#We prefer to live in denial here!

[rafesangelita]

♡ after a nasty break up, you and rafe find yourselves at the same valentine’s day party, both of you on a mission to distract yourselves for the night. what started as a petty competition to piss each other off, soon turned into a competition to see who would tap out first..

warnings: toxic!rafe, mentions of stalking, jealousy, oral (m. receiving), fingering, face fucking, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, orgasm denial, hair pulling, slapping, choking, biting, asphyxiation, very little blood, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘EXES AND O’S’ 🤍 this was originally a fluffy prompt with frat!rafe.. idk how we ended up here but i hope you love it nonetheless <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 2.5k

“what about him? he’s cute.” you followed chanel’s line of vision, your eyes landing on a guy with curly brown hair, a soft smile, and freckles that dusted across his cheeks. “he’s too cute.” you looked away, sighing to yourself as chanel snickered at your side. “oh, i’m sorry, i forgot you only like guys who look like they’re damn near unapproachable.” just then, you spotted rafe in the corner with another girl, that stupid flirtatious look adorning his face as he spared you a single glance. he knew you were looking at him, his hand trailing down the stranger’s back until he grabbed a handful of her ass through her dress.

truth be told, rafe didn’t really care about the girl in front of him. he was at this party for one reason, and one reason only; pussy. after you two ended things in a fit of rage, rafe couldn’t stop thinking about you, even going as far as stalking all of your socials and camping outside your house just to catch a glimpse of you since you enforced a strict ‘no contact’ rule. at the end of the day, he had needs, and his preferred need didn’t want shit to do with him, so now he was here; telling this girl whatever she wanted to hear in hopes he could ‘hit it and quit it’ as soon as possible.

he hated how sexy you looked sitting there. hair freshly done, your face was in what you called ‘full glam’, but your outfit? he was on the verge of dragging you out of the house and taking you home with him just for wearing it. a black see through dress, that he indeed could see through, black strappy heels that hugged your calves perfectly, and his personal favorite; a black lace choker with a ribbon in the front. to put it simply, you looked like sex on legs. “are you even listening to me?” rafe snapped out of his trance, a shit-eating grin playing on your lips while he cleared his throat awkwardly.

he was so pathetic, he had a free opportunity to get his dick wet standing right in front of him and he still couldn’t help but get distracted at the sight of you. if he wanted to make you mad, he needed to have actual competition, and just like both of you knew; there was no such thing. if rafe was going that low, you were going to go even lower. getting up from your spot on the couch, rafe’s eyes followed your every move as you made your way to the crowded living room. the lights grew dim, one of his favorite songs playing over the speakers as you started dancing.

you weren’t even by yourself for a full minute before you felt a pair of large hands snake around your waist, the person’s frontside digging into the soft flesh of your ass as your hips moved against the mystery man. rafe felt his eye twitch, his jaw clenching as you looked up just in time to hold your new dancing partner close by the back of their neck. “you fucking bitch..” he whispered to himself. as if you could read his lips, you turned around, looking up at the hottest guy in the room. besides your ex-boyfriend, of course. he had dark hair, a chiseled jawline, and was exactly the type to make rafe pissed.

pulling him down to your head level, you leaned in and kissed him, your eyes staying on rafe’s the entire time. at first, rafe was just gonna let you have your moment and let you think you got the last laugh.. but then he saw the guy’s hand slip underneath your dress and your tongue slip out of your mouth. “fuck it.” rafe nudged the girl off of his arm and stormed upstairs, your chest blooming with pride as you watched him disappear. once he was out of your sight, you pulled away from the stranger with a roll of your eyes, leaving the poor guy confused in the middle of the living room.

now that rafe was gone, you were bored once again, your phone going off inside your purse.

[10:10 PM] chanel <3: come upstairs!! hottie alert..

your eyebrows knitted in confusion at the message. ‘hottie alert’, chanel did not talk like that. adjusting the hem of your dress, you made your way upstairs where a line for the bathroom wrapped around the hallway. you could feel everyone’s gazes burning into your skin, your eyes scanning for your bestie in the crowded area. walking past some of the bedrooms, you paused once you reached the last door on the right.

“give me my phone you fucking psychopath!” the voice belonged to none other than chanel, your nails clicking against the metal knob before you swung the door open. “what the fuck are you doing?!” you shoved rafe in the chest before ripping chanel’s phone out of his hand. “i wouldn’t have to text you from your friend’s phone if you didn’t have me blocked on everything.” he spat, a teasing smile gracing his lips as you whispered something in chanel’s ear. “..are you sure?” you had just told her to give you a moment alone with him, your bestie feeling a little uneasy at the idea.

“trust me, i’ll be fine,” you scoffed, “look at him.” both of you turned around just in time to see rafe stand up with a wince.

you may or may not have pushed him straight into the chiseled edge of the hardwood dresser that sat in the corner of the room..

chanel accepted her phone as you handed it to her, making sure to shoot rafe one more glare before shutting the door behind her. rafe watched you click the lock, his figure towering over your own as he caged you between the wall. “posing as my friend to get me upstairs.. really, rafe? you look desperate as fuck.” you laughed, the degrading sound turning him on. he laughed along before wrapping a hand around your neck, the smile dropping from his face the second he leaned into you. “so what does that make you? ‘over here shoving your tongue down some random dude’s throat.”

you scoffed before rafe pressed into your windpipe, your eyes fluttering shut at the force. “you started it.” your voice barely came out above a whisper, a shiver running down your spine when you felt his breath fan against your cheek. “yeah? well, then i guess that means i should finish it too then, huh?” before you had a chance to get out some catty remark, he gripped the sides of your neck, dragging you over to the bed before pinning you down by your wrists. he took this time to examine your outfit closely, his nostrils flaring as your nipples were visible through the fabric.

“looks like you came here for the same reason i did,” he laughed, “what? you don’t got any panties on either?” you struggled against him, thrashing in his hold while your heel clad feet dangled off of the plush mattress. “why do you care? you’re not getting anything.” rafe smirked, his eyebrows lifting as if you just proposed a challenge. taking one of his hands off of your wrists, you wasted no time in landing a slap across his cheek, the action only making him grow hard in his boxers. “the fuck was that supposed to do?” he laughed, “that’s just foreplay for me, baby.”

you groaned, rolling your eyes before you felt rafe’s hand slip underneath the waistband of your panties. all objections died in your throat when his fingers worked skillfully around your clit, your body jolting at the familiar stroke of his digits. you hated that you let him get to know you like the back of his hand. the man knew what it took to get you purring, your hips chasing his touch for more friction. “look at you, you’re so fucking easy.” you shoved his chest in a poor attempt to get him to back off, the action deemed useless as he took your hand and pressed kisses to your knuckles instead.

“i hate you.” you moaned. without warning, rafe slipped both his middle and ring finger inside your soaked entrance, your arousal contradicting your words. “hate me? it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it..” you cried out when he curled his digits, the tips of his fingers pressing against your sweet spot. it didn’t take long before you were trembling, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his wrist. one look up at rafe and you could see just how much he was enjoying this, the erection in his pants catching your attention. you decided right then and there you weren’t going to be the only one coming undone.

palming him through his jeans, rafe’s mouth opened as he let your other hand free, your dark gaze meeting his own before you were working him out of his pants. he gave you a little bit of leeway, allowing you to sit up just enough to be eye level with his throbbing cock before he ran his tip across your lips. “you know what to do with it, baby.” poking your tongue out, rafe groaned as you held him at the base, taking the first half of him between your lips. “see? this is what your mouth is for.. ‘it’s not for all that fucking attitude you give me.” he stroked the side of your cheek before cradling your head with both hands.

just as you rested your hands on his thighs, rafe tugged on the roots of your hair before forcing himself to hit the back of your throat. you whined, your nails digging into the denim of his jeans. asshole, you thought. rafe could see the combative look in your eyes, a knowing smirk gracing his lips before you swallowed around his length, drawing a hiss from the man above you. he continued dragging your mouth up and down his length until he was panting, his eyes rolling back the same way they did before he was going to shoot his load. pinching his side, rafe groaned as you pulled away with a gasp, slipping out from under him.

his cock was standing straight up against his stomach, your saliva running down the underside of it while his chest rose and fell with each breath. “you were just waiting to do that shit to me, weren’t you?” he stood up, kicking what was left of his jeans off of his ankles before wrapping a fist in your hair and slamming you against the wall. you yelped, a teasing grin taking over your features as he hiked your dress up, lifting you off of the floor with ease. rafe held you, his large palms squeezing the globes of your ass before slapping the flesh there harshly.

rafe leaned in to kiss you, his ego taking another hit when you moved your head to the side. “i’m about to fuck you stupid and you can’t even let me taste you?” he tsked, “is that really how you wanna be on valentine’s day?” you scoffed at his words, your eyebrows knitting together as he pulled your panties to the side. “you don’t even care about valentine’s day. you said it was corny, remember?” he ran his leaking tip between your folds, a whimper leaving your lips when you felt him nudge your sensitive bud. “yeah, i said a lot of shit, i know that, alright?” rafe grabbed your chin, forcing your head to stay in place, “but i want that to change.. ‘want things to be different between us.”

it was hard to deny him when he was sliding into you, your arms wrapping around his neck as he moaned in your ear. “you say that every single time..” you grumbled, your walls fluttering around the girth of him. rafe bit down on the sensitive part of your neck, a small gasp emitting from your mouth before he started rocking into you. “i mean it, though,” he grunted, “i want you back at home, at tanneyhill.” slowly but surely, rafe kissed up your jaw until you hesitantly gave in and let him take your lips with his. it was searing— the way your mouths melted into one was nothing short of addicting.

rafe’s hips slammed into your own with a precision that turned you into a puddle of nothing, your nails running along the back of his head as his chest pressed into yours. “you want me back home?” you bit his bottom lip, tugging on it until he cursed out loud. you ended up pulling a little too hard, a small bead of blood pooling in the indent you managed to make with your teeth. rafe was turned on out of his mind, his hips moving faster as he began thumbing at your clit. “fuck— yes, i need you back home. m’gettin tired of this stalking bullshit.” you giggled at the revelation, pulling him in for another kiss.

both of you moaned at the metallic taste on your tongues, your hand snaking down to fist his t-shirt. “prove it then.” that was all rafe needed to hear before he went all in, his thrusts growing rapid and hard— your head knocking against the wall behind you. your moans were so graphic, rafe couldn’t believe he lasted this long without hearing them. pretty soon, you were gasping for air, the band in your tummy snapping as rafe watched the way you lost yourself in his arms. you were so fucking pretty like this. swollen lips, heated skin, sparkly eyes and your now fucked up hair. you looked absolutely perfect.

having been denied an orgasm the first time, he had no idea how he hadn’t filled you with his seed yet, his climax just in arm’s reach. “please let me cum,” rafe pleaded, his abs constricting as the familiar heat began to simmer in the pit of his stomach, “i haven’t finished in fucking months.” you did a double take, your eyes widening slightly. “are you tapping out, ‘cameron?” the man in front of you rolled his eyes before burying his face in the curve of your neck. “are you really gonna make me say it?” your cunt was sucking him in like a vice, his eyes screwing shut as he started falling over the edge.

“of course i am. tell me i win before i unwrap my legs around your waist.” rafe gave in immediately, a pathetic ‘you win, you win, baby!’ was grunted into your flesh as you felt the hot ropes of his cum paint your insides. he stilled, his cock twitching until you took him for all that he had. rafe’s fingers dug into your skin, leaving crescents engraved in their wake. “shit.” he sighed, peppering your exposed chest with kisses. very gently, rafe carried you over to the bed where he adjusted your dress. “as much as i love the way this looks on you, you’re keeping this dress inside the house and that’s it.”

grabbing your phone, you opened your text thread with your best friend. rafe could hear the rapid clicking of your nails on your screen, his eyebrows knitting together as he pulled his jeans back on. “what are you doing?” he asked, craning his neck to steal a glance over your shoulder. “i’m just letting chanel know we didn’t kill each other.”

fair point.

[snoopyhq]

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ i want your drama, the touch of your hand

type: viktor x reader

summary: making up with viktor after a particulatly nasty fight

warning(s): suggestive/borderline nsfw content after the red line divider !!!

word count: 1320

a/n: literally had this thought occur to me while i was boxing at my job yesterday and bad romance came on shuffle on my phone, MAN... the original version but also think the moulin rouge "backstage romance" version MWAH

Hour two, still no talking. The atmosphere within the apartment was heavy with unspoken resentment and hurt. Both of you had woken up in particularly bad moods, and it seemed that being in each others' presence simply amplified that.

Every little thing he did 'wrong' was ticking you off, and everything you said that was slightly unpredicted or off in tone would set him off, and it finally boiled over during dinner.

"I don't like lemon zest. I thought you knew that," he commented. He twirled a strand of the linguini through the fork, pushing the food around on the plate. In that moment, he looked like a petulant, petty brat, and it took all your strength not to reach across the table and slap it out of his hand.

"Maybe speak up next time. Or better yet, you could cook for a change then, since you seem to always have a smart remark about it!"

Viktor set down his fork. The lines between his brows furrowed.

"Don't speak to me that way please," he said, meeting your gaze. "I understand you may be frustrated, but I was just stating my preference. Something I thought you would know, since we do live and spend much of our time together, do we not?"

Anything else he may have said after the first statement didn't matter. You were already in an angry mood, and very much did not appreciate being told how to act.

"Don't police my fucking tone, Viktor. I'll speak however I want to dammit!"

He said nothing, picked up his fork again, and ate the rest of his meal in silence. The wall was slowly rising between the two of you once more. Viktor didn't wait for you to finish your food. He took his dishes, stood up, and walked off, the sound of his cane tapping against the tiles echoing too loudly in the space. You did your own dishes that night, and he did his.

Now there was a warmth lacking, even as the mattress dipped and sighed with every toss and turn. You were doing your best to keep your back to the other. It hurt, but your prides were nearly as sharp as your minds.

One of you had to break. You didn't want it to be you.

The loud banging noise from your upstairs neighbor finally did something.

"Goddammit, that idiot dropped something again," you complained.

"Someone please ban him from buying anymore hideous garden statues. That balcony is straight out of a post-apocalyptic nightmare," Viktor agreed.

You snorted, and quickly tried to cover it by clearing your throat.

"Am I only useful when I'm entertaining you?" he asked softly.

"Shut up. You know that's not true," you finally turned to face him.

"Then..."

"Viktor, I swear."

"That denial implies you care for me. Please, show and not just tell me," he requested sweetly.

"Oh yeah? Show you how, exactly?"

"I'm cold. I miss your warmth. You are cruel when you take away my routinely expectations."

"Fine. Come here," you finally reached out, and clasped his hand in yours.

This wasn't going to completely fix all the underlying emotional distress you were both dealing with, and it certainly wasn't going to fully rid what had transpired. But it was a start, made all the more worth it when he closed the gap, arms already wrapping around you tightly.

"I hate it when we fight," he whispered.

"Me too. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you."

"I'm sorry too. I should not have nitpicked so much, and I should have realized policing your tone wasn't going to make things go well."

NSFW AHEAD !!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!! MINORS DNI PLS !!!

Viktor gasped, the sound breathy as it fell from his beautiful lips, now slightly swollen from how much you'd kissed and nipped at them. Your hands were in his hair, and you delighted in his reactions with every sharp tug. His amber eyes were dark. They gazed up into yours, practically begging for more more more.

You were happy to indulge.

"Tilt your head back a bit more for me," you rasped in his ear, pushing him back against the pillows. He complied easily.

"Please...," he groaned.

You pressed another kiss to his pulse point. It was one of his more sensitive area, and wasn’t helped when you followed it up with more kisses on his beauty marks.

He sighed.

“You always kiss me like you’re discovering oxygen for the first time again.”

"Because you always take my breath away." You murmured in response. You knew he was going to tell you off for such a stupidly predictable statement, and he did. You shrugged and kept kissing him again and again, silencing any more protests he had with your choice of words.

He nipped at your lower lip, enjoying the small little hiss you let out. He loved that. It never grew old.

His lips left yours, reluctantly, but moved on to your flushed cheeks and down your jaw. Viktor’s hands began gently trailing down your body, tracing and touching and feeling, committing you to memory. Everything about you was perfect, and he was in awe of it all.

As if to translate his thoughts through touch, he squeezed your thighs. He especially had a thing for them, always had. It was like they were made for him to hold.

“You’re so touchy already, Viktor? Insatiable,” you teased.

"But you love it when I can’t keep my hands to myself. You can't lie to me about that,” he cooed in a soft, lilting tone. His fingers traced along your thighs again, digging into the soft flesh.

“Yeah, yeah. enjoy that smug look while you still can,” you grumbled, not denying his words.

You suddenly lunged at him, kissing a trail down his body, giggling to yourself at his surprised yelp.

"Hey!" he laughed breathlessly, his stomach doing somersaults as you kissed along his body. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt your lips press to his skin. He loved when you did this, especially when you would leave soft little marks on his hips.

And speaking of that. You were currently working away at his hips now, trying to hold back the urge to just sink your teeth into him.

He couldn't stop the soft sighs and moans that escaped him. Gods, the touch of your lips on his delicate skin was sending shivers throughout his body.

"You don't have to be ah… gentle all the time." he murmured breathlessly, his fingers now the ones tangled in your hair.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Just bite me already, coward," he demanded.

He liked when you were a bit more rough with him. In fact, he preferred it. You not treating him like he was fragile. It made him feel better than being treated like a priceless doll, hidden away behind locked glass.

“Fuck, finally.” With his permission explicitly given, you finally sink your teeth down into him.

He let out a sharp moan, his hips rolling up a bit automatically.

"Keep going, please." he whispered. “Keep proving to me you’ll keep me warm for the rest of our days.”

You looked up at him, so wonderfully vulnerable and so violently true. His emotions were etched onto every angle of his face. Viktor was never once to mince words when it came to acts of passion, and you were fully reminded of exactly why you adored him so.

“I will. You’re forgiven,” you smiled. “Consider this worship my apology to you, and your acceptance, yours to me.”

You slowly pushed his legs apart, practically aching with the reverence and love and affection you felt for him. You could feel his breath hitch as yours ghosted over his inner thighs.

If this was how you two were to make up after a fight, maybe you should engage in conflict more often, you mused to yourself. It was going to be a slow, feverish night.

[cinhomi]

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: boyfriend's best friend Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you should've left your boyfriend sooner considering the man of your dreams, his best friend, has always been there for you... but the faithful event you were hoping for finally occurs and you find yourself at his house, in his arms, in his bed.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst?, smut, fluff, aquaintances to lovers

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cheating (but not really, you'll see), reader is in a toxic relationship, explicit descriptions of sexual acts, unprotected sex (it's sexy but use protection babes), fingering, pretty vanilla.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4K

I have a thing for sex while it rains, it seems... and like this I post something after months. I'll work this storyline in the future too for Hyunjin, but for now, enjoy!

It's strange how sometimes we believe to be in the right place to later find out we were living in a lie, a product of our fervid imagination, just to not accept reality and the fact that life, or even our past self, played a good and structured not-so-funny prank on us.

These lies we tell ourselves most of the time are a response to our awful experiences, but they can become harmful in numerous types of ways, and we should learn that instead of letting us be tempted by sweet beliefs. When we find ourselves facing reality it's hard to accept it, it's ugly, but ugly things are part of life and we should try and accept them nonetheless, they may reveal themselves as lessons or the best things that happened to us, with various meanings to that.

What pisses people off the most is the "waste of time". And that's how you feel too, like the rest of humankind, angry because you wasted time. You would very gladly prefer to be in the denial stage of the whole thing but it's so evident that you can't even pretend to be doubtful, to question what you saw, to give him a chance to explain himself.

The car is still cold even if you already reached the destination that popped in your mind right after what happened, salty tears adorning your eyes as they cross your freezing cheeks, collecting under your chin, falling on your scarf. The same damn scarf he gifted you after your first two weeks of dating, the one you didn't even like at all, the color you hated, a dull pattern over it… the urge to pull down the car window and throw it outside in the middle of the parking lot soon becomes reality. Wind starts to rise a bit, and you see it dance on the wet concrete for a while before a car passes over it and plasters it on the ground.

Ironic, right? You feel a bit bad after the impulsive gesture, but he didn't hesitate to make you feel the same, so, "screw it".

You shouldn't even be here. You should go to your own best friend, sitting on her way too low couch with its broken springs and cry your eyes out as she yells at you her usual "I told you so!" and "You're an idiot, I knew it from the start!" even if what you really need is comfort, and not to be scolded like a twelve years old while she offers you chocolates and tissues like in some chiché romcom.

That's why Hyunjin's place is just few meters and five floors away from you now. You're actually hesitant to get out the car but when you see your boyfriend's text appear on your screen, asking where are you, it's suddenly not so difficult to take your things and rush to take the elevator, and when you send Hyunjin a message telling him you're in front of his apartment he's quick to open the door. He doesn't say a thing, he doesn't even dare to, he already knows.

He delicately takes your hand in his and guides you inside with a saddened smile, his eyes soft as they watch you attentively trying to search for your tears. God, he wants to kiss them all away, he never wants to see you like this ever again, but he thinks it's probably not the last time… is it? Either way, he'll do anything he can to make the redness of your eyes disappear.

"Go sit on the couch petal, relax for me, hm?" he says in a hushed tone to not provoke your impending outburst. When you're finally hugged by his cushions you feel his presence behind you, his hands going on your shoulders to free you from your heavy coat and bag that he places on his forearm. When he reaches for your scarf his fingers are suddenly met with the cold skin of your neck and a startled "oh!" escapes from him because of the unexpected touch, making you giggle. If only you knew how his heart starts beating faster whenever he hears you like this…

"Where is your scarf? You always wear it, were you in such a rush to leave it at your place?" he's now lowered near your face, breath tickling your cheek as he adjusts your jumper on your shoulders ー the stained one you only wear at home, you didn't even change, how embarrassing. He touches you like frail porcelain and little bumps start to rise on your skin where traces of his touch linger, you wish his fingerprints could bruise your skin.

"I threw it in the parking lot…" you explain, looking at him trying to not make your lips touch while doing so.

A laugh that comes from his chest slowly builds up as he lifts himself and reluctantly distances from your face to go place your belongings on the hanger at the entrance. If only he knew how your heart twists in excitement whenever you hear him like this…

Hyunjin doesn't come back to you immediately. He always makes sure you have enough time to think by yourself first, to gather your words, to decide if you want to cry or yell, and then he sits beside you and goes along with anything you've come up with. It's always been like this until today, every time you came to his place after something happened between you and his best friend, every time he had to gather your broken pieces and try to put you together again. He doesn't know he's always done that beautifully though, making a breathtaking mosaic out of you, making you so splendid and wonderful anyone could say he's your creator.

You hear a distant rustling in the kitchen, the clicking of the bottles in the fridge as he closes it with a thud, two glasses colliding it seems, and his slippers sliding on the floor, approaching you.

"You're lucky petal, I have your favorite today." he proceeds to place the glasses on the way too elegant coffee table and pour the drink with all the calmness in the world. Time with Hyunjin stops. You think that every second spent with him is never wasted.

"I like this clip, it compliments your hair color." he says suddenly, snapping you out of your trance. How could he notice such a thing?

"Really? It's the first time I wear it…" you still mumble a bit, too shaken to let your voice take its natural timbre. Hyunjin laughs again, handing you the drink and carefully sitting so as to not spill everything on his expensive carpet. His body is completely facing yours, knee against knee.

"It's not true!" Hyunjin takes a sip and giggles at your confused expression.

"You had it the first time we met, too. It was perfect with your dress and necklace. Do you really not remember? You looked beautiful…"

What Hyunjin refers to is a random saturday evening of autumn. What day it was, what you were wearing, what you did before meeting in front of the restaurant, you can't remember… but what you can vividly recall is the stinging sensation of the first cold breeze of the season on your cheeks, how crunchy multicolored leaves swirled on the sidewalk, and the city lights beginning to be turned on a bit earlier than usual. Now that you think about it, it was around this period. You remember what perfume you wore, paying attention to what type of impression you wanted to give to your boyfriend's group of friends that you were about to meet for the first time, and you even remember what mascara you decided to use.

But what remained tattooed on your bones the most are the first ten seconds of Hwang Hyunjin taking possess of your vision, because you felt incredibly sick.

If you close your eyes and concentrate you can almost feel the same emotions, when your stomach swirled like it was a washing machine, your head light, and your legs almost giving in making you trip while standing still.

You felt incredibly guilty, disgusted with yourself, disappointed, a monster. Why the hell your first thought was "he's my soulmate" and not something along the lines of "nice, my boyfriend's best friend" you still don't know. Call it destiny, call it sixth sense, you immediately tried to suppress it all.

It didn't help that Hyunjin's slender fingers delicately took your hand to kiss your knuckles with his oh, oh so beautiful lips like an ambassador of chivalry itself, his siren eyes looking up at you sweetly but confidently, making you blush like crazy ー you later blamed your flustered expression to the restaurant's excessive heating.

On top of that, your boyfriend decided to sit at your side leaving Hyunjin in front of you, so you had his ridiculously handsome face in sight for the whole night as you ate your stupid california rolls and tried to elegantly slurp your noodles ー for as much as something like that is even possible.

You talked, a lot, even if you felt your face heat up at every strangely seductive giggling sound he made together with the little bumps his shoes would land on your naked ankles, toying with your heels from time to time. You had so much in common, and after that you only felt complete when he was near you.

Your boyfriend did catch on with the new dynamic though, so unfortunately considering how jealous and a bit possessive he is, you and Hyunjin didn't see each other as often as you expected after that, but you really didn't grasp that it was because he wanted you apart at first, just a series of unfortunate coincidences.

Hyunjin parted from you with a tight hug, lingering his hands on the smaller of your back, adjusting your shawl over your coat and twirling a strand of your hair behind your ear, the moment never fully leaving your memory. He was… perfect, really just perfect, and you couldn't help but feel nauseous when you got in the car with your boyfriend to let him accompany you to your apartment, the thought of another man being more suited for you making you feel like you were cheating. You only felt relieved when you talked about all his friends during the ride and he revealed that Hyunjin is "a bit of a player, y'know, he flirts with everyone and he has those french manners, but he's always been like this." so you thought that maybe your feelings would slowly fade… but they always, always rested down the bottom of your heart, even if you pushed them away forcefully, almost violently.

No one knows you two meet up from time to time now, because one time you found yourself crying in a corner on his shouler. No one knows that you always seem happy and carefree only because you talk with Hyunjin, because he comforts you when you need it without complaining. Not that it needs to be a secret, but you both are well aware that it may result suspicious to meet with your boyfriend's best friend late at night, best friend's girlfriend from his side.

And the fact that you two always seem to attract each other like magnets, so close, with instant connection, it doesn't let thoughts stray further from the idea of something tender existing between the two of you, everyone can see it.

It's just that it's prohibited. Or, to say it better, you were too caught in your lies to even contemplate the idea of leaving your boyfriend and Hyunjin simply didn't want to betray his "friend". But when you started to message him asking for advice, when you later had long calls together, when you crumbled in his arms crying almost weekly, he wasn't so sure about having a best friend anymore.

"I… you really think I was beautiful?"

Your question comes from the heart. The mixture of the memories of that night and his proximity makes heat rise on your face, shyness visible from the automatic action of your teeth catching your bottom lip and your gaze straying from his face to linger on the glass in your hands. The bubbles of the drink fizzle on the surface and for a moment or two that's all that can be heard in the room.

"You're always beautiful, y/n. I told you many times." he says cautiously, putting down everything to wrap his hands around your wrist.

"I don't know how he doesn't make you feel like you are, I don't know why he treats you like this but, petal, you're an incredible woman," he lowers his head to look into your eyes as he tries to explain himself further, "smart and strong. He's an asshole and you should stop doing this to yourself."

Does he know? Does he know what your boyfriend did? Probably not. Hyunjin would never hurt you, he would've immediately told you. You want to make sure though, in case everything that involves Hyunjin is a lie too.

"Why are you his friend then? Why do you keep coming to our house and have dinner as we fake not knowing each other like we really do? Why do you keep on hanging out with him? If you really think he's terribleー"

"Because I want to protect you."

His reply is fast, cutting you off. His stare bores into your eyes and drinks in all of your feelings, like he can see them displayed in front of him. A few seconds of silence fill the room and you suddenly gulp down your drink until the last drop, sprinting up from your seat and escaping his intoxicating presence that's almost engulfing you.

Hyunjin doesn't say a thing. He waits, he can sense that something big happened this time and fuck if he's going to kill his "friend" after this. You were never this silent, you usually would storm inside and throw yourself on him… for as much as he dislikes seeing you like this, he's grateful for your presence, for the feel of your body against his, the trust you put into him. He doesn't do all this just to be a rebound, he already knows part of him is yours and vice versa, so he's simply waiting. Everyone considers him being a romantic man, but really, he just believes in destiny. When Hyunjin first saw you every cell in his body started to boil, goosebumps rising down his nape, the world destroyed itself and was reborn before him, it's impossible that it didn't matter at all.. That was the day he realized he didn't know what "love" meant before.

He watches your silhouette get near the big windows that face the road, little droplets of water striking them. The sound of the rain reaches your ears only when you notice the detail, and soon you see how much water is actually coming down from the sky, your scarf already soaked and dirty laying alone between various cars. You take a deep breath, thinking about your next words, a way to tell Hyunjin what happened without sounding pathetic as you concentrate on the mesmerizing foliage outside, reds and oranges and yellows decorating the city landscape.

"He accidentally left his phone at home since he rushed to his office, I don't exactly know why…" you started to explain, hands fidgeting with your rings, heavy breath obstructing your throat, "and I heard a notification so I went to check right?"

Hyunjin slowly gets up and approaches you, his warmth radiating behind you now, hands resting on your shoulders and caressing them as he listens and slowly gets closer and closer until he's hugging you.

"So, petal? What was it about? Did you find porn?" he tries to guess, but when you shake your head as a 'no' a cold chill goes through his back. Oh, oh no…

"It… it was a message, a very sexual one, coming from a saved contact, I don't even remember the name." you pout, looking down almost in shame even if you're not the responsible one. Maybe it's the shame of having a cheater as a partner.

"I opened the chat Hyunie. They've been sexting for months and from what I could grasp they even met few times…" you can feel tears start to form on your waterline again, a deep ache inside your chest rises when you finally say it out loud. One thing was to acknowledge it, another was to tell everything to the man you've secretly been in love with for a year already. What were you doing exactly all this time?

"Am I really not good enough for anyone, Hyunie? She's… she's so different from me… Am I really a disaster as he says? Why would he do that to me? I've always been a good girlfriend, I even ignored all those mean words and his being immature and the shitty sex!! I put aside my needs to make him happy thinking I was the problem!" you turn around to face him and you're met with his serious expression.

You expected to find him at least slightly surprised by your sudden show of emotions, but he's calm, he radiates calmness. Hyunjin sighs and looks in the distance behind you for a second, blinking ever so slowly, his touch traveling up to cup your cheeks and wipe your angry tears with his thumbs.

That's the final stroke, the gesture that makes you sob and bury your face in his chest to hide.

You aren't broken yet, it's almost as if Hyunjin is physically holding you together. He's trying to smooth the new sharp edges that formed around your heart to not let it be isolated, while hugging you he's working hard to let it be still approachable to receive and give love, he's trying with all he has to prevent a horrible plague that's trying to approach you.

You hold his shirt between your hands, tightly, you're afraid you'll ruin it but you can't stop, you need to ground yourself and try to be strong, but it's so hard to not let him sway you around the room, lullying you as he hushes you and lets his fingers comb your messy hair.

"Leave him."

You freeze.

Did he really say that? Hyunjin never said it out loud. He did make you understand his vision about the situation, he did suggest it with hidden phrases, but so explicitly…

"It's time to let him go, don't you think?" he presses his lips on your forehead, continuing to mumble his real feelings, "You don't need someone who mistreats you petal. You deserve better." he closes them in a kiss that leaves a mark on your soul, making you gasp.

"Hyunjin?" it takes a lot of strength to look up at him. His eyes seem less gentle, brows forming a frown that's not his usual playful one, a bit scary even. The mole under his eye is contracted and his mouth is curved in disgust, just enough for you to understand he's furious.

"Why don’t we put an end to this farce? He didn't even deserve you in the first place, you don't love him, stop doing this to yourself y/n. There's someone who's the right one, for sure…" his tone is desperate, but you want him to say it clearly. You can't help it, if it's to be sure or to satisfy a need you've been having for a while you don't know, but you want him to say it loud and clear.

You know that if he says it now everything will change and it'll be scary as fuck, but if that's a premise for a better life… maybe it's not as scary as you think, it's Hyunjin after all, the man who's looking at you in adoration.

"And what man could possibly want me at this point?" your voice is shaky and uncertain as you tease the confession out of him.

Hyunjin looks away and smiles, a bit frustrated. He wipes another tear away from your cheek and then places his hands on your waist.

"Me?" he fakes the question, smiling softly; "Be mine y/n."

Breath gets caught in your throat as he finally says it. It's wrong that you waited for it, it's wrong that your first instinct is to say yes without thinking about it.

"Hyunjin Iー"

"Ooh don't say you don't reciprocate, petal. I know you too well." he interrupts you, his hold a little tighter. Hyunjin tilts his head to the side, few strands of black raven hair following the motion and slightly covering his eyes. He's beautiful now, even more than in any other moment you've ever been with him. Hyunjin is the most beautiful man in the world and he wants you.

Your phone starts ringing. It's a strange moment to realize your ringtone is kind of cringe, cutting the tension weirdly… but you can't laugh, not right now. Both you and Hyunjin know who it is.

He's right. You should put an end to all this and start to think for yourself, about what you really want, need. This is not wrong. To love yourself isn't wrong, and Hyunjin makes you feel like the person you want to be.

"Do you want to pick up?" Hyunjin takes his hand under your chin again and directs it up to make your eyes meet his, gaze frenetic as he tries to not look at your tempting lips. Everything will depend on what you decide now. And you think quickly, under pressure, and you don't know if it's a good idea or not but you shake your head and hold him tighter, hiding again.

"Y/n, please look at me…"

The phone eventually stops ringing and silence overwhelms you when you can hear his fast heartbeat right against your ear. And it's because of you, it's for you, your heart starts to adapt to his and you almost feel pain in your chest. It's too much, too much…

Ah, that's it.

You get on your tiptoes to pull him down by his collar and make your lips crash together.

Hyunjin drags you towards him as if you kissed thousands of times before, immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth as you grant him access, making it run along yours. You hold his shoulders trying to search for your lost balance and he's quick to walk you towards his bedroom, he isn't even slightly hesitant.

The desperate sighs you two let out add into the sound of your first kiss; it's a relief, something you didn't imagine to need so badly. Hyunjin pushes you further into the room until your legs meet the mattress and you fall on it guided by him, a knee starting to press beside you as he cradles on the bed on top of you. He can't stop kissing you.

Hyunjin clumsily reaches the lamp on the nightstand to turn it on and oh, oh if this is even better than any fantasy he's ever had… seeing you panting with that flustered expression, your legs already crossing beneath him, jumper half lifted up, your hair all disheveled since you quickly reached for your clip and threw it somewhere in the room. You just look breathtaking in his eyes, even more than any other moment he's ever thought about it. He has to let you know. You didn't think he'd turn on the light but maybe you can put aside your shyness for once if it means having this type of gaze reserved to you.

Your hands try to reach his shirt to pull him out of his trance and he resumes his kissing, hands flying on your sides as they slowly, painfully slowly slide down until he's hooking your pants. Hyunjin lowers down to press chaste kisses on the little part of your cleavage that is exposed, going down to your stomach, then your belly, until he darts his tongue out to lick a stripe just above your groin, leaving a longer kiss there while he proceeds to undress you.

The way you feel embarrassed when you remember you're wearing plain, white cotton panties… but it's honestly sending him haywire. The fact that you didn't expect to end up like this, a confirmation that you didn't plan anything to happen, it's making Hyunjin even harder in his confines. You're so wet your juices dampened the fabric, making it almost transparent, and he sighs at the faint outline of your cunt now puffy and pulsing… and he still has to touch you properly.

Hyunjin is honestly the same. You can't see it but waves of excitement run over him so violently he physically trembles and his legs give in from time to time.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't dare to come back to him…” it's whisperes, almost as if he's accidentally thinking out loud but it makes you clench. Hyunjin's fingers start to tease you on top of the fabric, seeing the wet patch getting larger and larger. You can't believe this part of him exists… how many things do you still have to learn about him?

Hyunjin keeps on touching you there but this time he starts flicking, snapping his fingers where you're most sensitive, the tingles that start to make you jolt are strong and they make your breath sharp.

“H-Hyunjin…” your stuttering voice slightly higher as you call for him, he rolls his eyes back.

“Hyunjin please…” you can't help but pant, wrapping your hand around his forearm to try and make him slow down. Is this what those stupid magazines talked about? That sex feels better when you do it with someone you love? So fucking true.

Hyunjin feels on cloud nine. He starts paying attention on your neck tenderly but still with open-mouthed kisses as his fingers subtly slide your panties to the side. “Yeah petal, let me hear you, let me…” his words get lost as he concentrates. Ah, it's uncomfy for him. Hyunjin lifts your legs and carelessly slides your underwear off with a hiss, his eyes closing like they've been blinded by the vision of the Virgin Mary for a second, then maniacally staring at your bare cunt, digits caressing your wet folds mere seconds before plunging into your entrance.

You can only let out a choked moan and push your head back onto his soft cushions, that smells just like him. You're completely surrounded by his presence when his scent is all around you, his fingers move smoothly to work you open and his mouth is now latched around your nipple, his forehead pushing your jumper further up. When the hell did he…

“Is it good?” his voice displaying signs of fatigue, urgency and need buried deep inside him. You know his fingers are long but God if they can reach otherworldly places. It's not the in-and-out motion but the brushing of your g-spot that makes your legs close around his sides and poke his ribcage with your knees; he doesn't mind, your tits keep him occupied enough to make him mindlessly keep going. Hyunjin decides that prefers your chest covered in love marks over any art piece he's ever seen these past years, so nothing can disturb his work in progress. Maybe the work itself.

“‘S good Hyunie, Hyun…” it's difficult to breathe, it's difficult to think straight as the bumps of his fingers touch your insides so precisely, as if you've always done this and he already knew your body by memory.

“Did his fingers ever make you feel like this? Hm?”

The question makes you sigh along with a moan. You shake your head.

“Did he ever kiss you like I do?” and Hyunjin kisses you again as the movement of his fingers fastens. His teeth catch your bottom lip and his tongue slides against yours before he sucks it, drool making it shine where you two meet; passionate and euphoric, it feels like experimenting fireworks. You follow his lips when he detaches, but he just smiles and starts pressing his thumb on your bare clit. “Tell me, petal.”

“N-no…”

Hyunjin feels it, the way you start clenching around him, hard. He almost can't move anymore. So he whispers, just above the squelching of his palm spreading your wetness.

“Wanna go to Heaven with me, y/n?”

How, how can you say no? You need Hyunjin, even more than oxygen right now, he already has you completely. Your hands hurry on the button somehow miraculously keeping his pants together, and you reach his zip and pull the fly, that struggles to slide down ー he's too full.

“Wanna try how a real man makes you feel?”

You nod almost too eagerly and he chuckles within a whiffle. Hyunjin deprives you of his fingers despite your whines of protest and spreads your juices all over his face, tongue swirling on his hand. A low groan comes out from him, his touch moving to your hips where he squeezes, plush skin bending under his grip. It's all in contrast with the look in his eyes as he stares at your face, your reactions, as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

You're so distracted that when you feel something poke your inner thigh you gasp, and can only stare… his cock springs free from his confines altogether, long, slim and leaking, underside vein pulsating under the pads of his fingers as he pumps himself few times, precum dripping on your groin. Hyunjin's eyebrows are knitted together as he grinds between your legs, his still sticky hand moving your lower body closer so that he lifts you back up to wrap his arms around you, hugging you ever so gently.

His full lips kiss your cleavage and he curses under his breath because of his choice to not take all your clothes off but there's not much time anymore. You close your fists on his shirt, the lines of the fabric changing their shape under your hold while you wait for him, subtly writhing impatiently.

“Hyun please hurry…” not once in your life you've been this desperate for a man to fuck you. It's not because of the wait, not because you're horny, it's just that it's Hyunjin.

“Say it.” his eyes are darker, but they shine with the yellow-ish light in the room. He clears your forehead by adjusting your hair away.

You know what he's doing and it's nothing different from what you did before, in the living room, so you're more than willing to satisfy his request. You try to regain a bit of composure and steady your breath before speaking up, his head twitching together with every movement of yours.

"I want you, Hyunjin. I want you, please.”

A big bright smile spreads on his face as his head drops low, in disbelief. Hyunjin didn't imagine those words would have such a strong effect on him but here he is, blushing and trying to hold back a giggle. When he looks back at you he's serious again, eyes piercing into yours.

“I'm going in, hm? I wanna hear you scream my name through it all. Is that clear petal?”

What you'd give to hear him call you petal until the end of time, he says it and it's like dripping honey, he says it and you melt. The warm pool of pleasure in your belly tightens again as you say a shaky “yes”. You're his delicate, fragile petal.

His tip rests just before your entrance for a second while he takes a deep breath, breaching you gently. It's not a big stretch but his veins are already making your eyelids flutter and your lips part. Inch by inch, Hyunjin makes sure you feel his cock going deep, concern showing on your features as he doesn't come to an halt. He does, eventually, but the time he took to do it seemed eternal. “Oh my- Hyunie-”

“Bet my dick feels better than his,” he smirks between the kisses he's leaving under your jawline, “I bet mine's longer too.”

His comments only add fuel to the fire. He's bigger, he's better, the curve of his cock lands exactly on the spot that makes you black out. As you remember that you're technically still in a relationship your phone rings again. It's a distant sound, it's in another room, covered by yours and Hyunjin's sighs and moans, but he hears it too. Hyunjin stops every movement, hips against yours as he's fully inside you. He lifts himself up just enough to check on you. You look at him too.

You don't exchange any word, there's no need to, because you both arch your lips upwards and meet mid-air for another kiss, tender but messy as he moves backwards to get a starting point to his thrusts. The ringtone eventually dies making room to the faint dripping of the rain outside.

You feel warm, squeezing his cock just right and he's sure he will never let you go, never let you change your mind.

“Pussy ‘s so tight petal, was made for me, ‘m sure,” and he starts moving with consistency, picking up a pleasant rhythm, “you're so fucking perfect.”

His necklace is cold against your skin as he keeps on holding you flush against him, as well as your rings leaving icy lines on his back when your hands slip under his shirt and hold onto his shoulder blades. Hyunjin throbs inside you, drawing loud moans out of you that someone will for sure complain about. He thrusts harder, faster, every second that passes and you can only call for his name, yours being whispered by him against your skin making you shiver.

“Waited so long, so fucking long-” a guttural sound interrupting him, “since that time at the club, wanted to make you mine.” he mumbles, words hardly making sense but you decipher them anyway and when you realize what he's talking about the confused memories of it flood your mind. You, swaying your hips in front of him, grinding your ass on his crotch following the music; Hyunjin's hands right under your breasts guiding you together with him, his breath fanning on your neck, drying your tears completely as those three drinks made your head light enough to not care about any problem you complained about minutes before. It was just you and Hyunjin, all this would've happened sooner if a series of coincidences didn't happen.

“You would've let me take you in the bathroom, isn't that right?” Hyunjin asks, not losing concentration even for a second. “I wanted to bring you here, and fuck the sadness away. Every time, y/n, I wanted to tell you to forget him and be with me.”

You feel him stretch his arm between your bodies, and you feel your swollen bud stimulated again, you both whine against each other.

“‘M with you now Hyunie, want only you, ‘m yours babe.”

He's so fast now, the snapping of his hips moving you up and down the mattress… your words affect him on a visceral level.

“I choose you, I'll leave him for you-”

“Fuck!” he's close, so, so close and your walls tightening more and more and more are making him go crazy. Little beads of sweat decorate his forehead, a caramel-like smell coming from him as the crown of his head dampens and some hair stick to his forehead.

His tip keeps abusing your sweet spot, the kiss you share is feverish, your nails dig into his skin and his hold bruises your soft one. Both your bellies contract and before you can process it you're coming, white pois pattern creating over your blinding vision. You say his name out loud, dragging it together with your last moan as the hardest orgasm ever washes over you. Hyunjin pulls out just in time, copious white ropes of cum landing on your stomach like dripping art. Hyunjin loses track of space and time for a few moments as he comes down from his high, then takes you close to him when he lays next to you. Your heavy breath fills every other sound in your ears as you get comfortable hiding in his muscular chest. Your body spasms, all energy left your body already and your chest rises and falls frantically.

Hyunjin caresses your cheek and kisses your hair. It's peaceful. You just had sex with your boyfriend's best friend and it feels peaceful. It starts to feel a bit cold so he grabs the soft sheets near him and covers both of you.

“When will you tell him, petal?”

The question floats in the air for a while. You start playing with his necklace, making it dance between your fingers. He starts to worry a bit, when you don't answer him, but he decides to be patient, like always.

“After we eat something, I'll send him a text.” you seem resolute, and he's convinced. “Can I stay here tonight?”

He's a bit taken aback, his eyes narrowing in surprise: “Wasn't it obvious? You'll stay here from now on anyway.” and he says it so naturally, you think he's thought about this moment a lot… it makes you smile.

Hyunjin rolls to the side briefly, taking some tissues to wipe yours and his stomach since his sticky cum was still there, and kisses the tip of your nose adjusting your jumper back to its original place before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his phone, after finally freeing himself of his shirt. His back is slender yet defined, long, his spine making a beautiful curve. Your eyes travel from his nape to his glutes, the ones of a dancer. There's a doubt still in the back of your mind, you need to make it disappear.

“Are you… sad, that you can't be friends with him anymore?”

He doesn't even bother looking at you to answer, he keeps scrolling on the delivery app searching for something you may want to eat, the words he's about to say seeming obvious to him.

“We haven't been friends for a while already. I understood he's not the guy I met years ago, he changed, and I don't like to be around him anymore. Don't worry petal, it's not entirely because of you, I already wanted to part from him but you came into our lives so I endured it some more to stay with you… and it was worth it.” one of his hands shifts position behind him and taps the covers to signal for you to hold it. Your fingers interlace and he looks at you over his shoulder, slowly turning around, his body twisting slightly as he leans back again and kisses you sweetly yet still with some need.

Your breath is now steady, you're relaxed and it feels like Heaven, just like he promised.

"Pizza?"

You giggle and he follows.

“I love you y/n. I love you.”

[rabbitinashell]

So, the artist for this piece of art is on the art itself, I'm too blind to decipher what their name is :,)

Zhongli in the Sheets: Devoted, Patient, and Utterly Inescapable

Zhongli does not rush. He does not falter. Every touch, every glance, every movement is deliberate—an act of worship as much as possession. With him, there is no chaos, no uncertainty. He moves with the confidence of a man who has lived for millennia, who has seen and experienced all, and who knows exactly how to leave you trembling beneath him.

He is not cruel, but he is in complete control. He takes his time, savoring every sound, every shudder, every whisper of his name as if it were a rare and precious treasure.

And when he does decide to break you? He does so thoroughly, with the patience of a god who knows time is irrelevant when it comes to claiming what is his.

1. Poised, Patient, and Completely Unshakable

Zhongli never rushes. He enjoys the slow unraveling, the way anticipation coils tight in your stomach as he draws out every touch, every sigh, every desperate plea.

His hands glide over your skin with practiced ease, his golden gaze never breaking from yours. He waits—watching, studying—until the moment you can no longer hold yourself together.

“Patience,” he murmurs, voice like smooth amber. “We have all the time in the world.”

2. A God Who Demands Reverence

There is no question of who is in control. Zhongli expects your surrender, your trust, your complete and undivided devotion. He does not need to command it—it is simply a truth, an inevitability.

He worships as much as he dominates. His voice is soft, yet unyielding, each word sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let go,” he whispers, lips grazing your ear. “There is no need to think—only to feel.”

3. Overwhelming Strength, Used with Care

He does not manhandle—he doesn’t need to. His grip is firm, steady, unshakable—a reminder of the sheer power that lies beneath his calm exterior.

Zhongli holds you as though you are both fragile and unbreakable, as though he knows exactly how much pressure to apply before you crumble in his hands.

“You are shaking,” he observes, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Shall I ease your burden, or let you endure it a little longer?”

4. The Slow, Merciless Art of Ruin

He drags it out—the anticipation, the tension, the pleasure. There is no urgency, no reckless abandon. Zhongli is patient, so painfully patient, keeping you on the edge for what feels like an eternity.

His touch is methodical, his pace agonizing, his voice a constant presence in your ear, grounding and overwhelming all at once.

“There is no need to rush,” he soothes, fingers teasing, guiding, keeping you precisely where he wants you. “You will have everything… in time.”

5. A Lover Who Engraves Himself Into Memory

Zhongli is not fleeting. He does not leave bruises or marks of possession—he leaves something deeper. His touch lingers long after he has pulled away, his voice echoes in your mind, his presence haunts you in the most intoxicating way.

His devotion is quiet but absolute, and when the night is over, when your body is spent and your mind is dazed, he remains—his hands tracing soothing patterns, his voice a steady hum of comfort.

“Rest,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “I will be here when you wake.”

Bonus: Kinks & Preferences

Power & Control – He never raises his voice, never forces—but you obey him without question.

Tease & Denial – He revels in patience, dragging things out until you can’t take it anymore.

Reverence & Worship – You are his, and he treats you like something precious, something divine.

Slow, Sensory Overload – He takes his time, ensuring you feel every touch, every breath, every whisper.

Possession Without Chains – He does not need to bind you. His presence alone is enough to hold you in place.

6. Aftercare: Steady, Gentle, and Unwavering

Zhongli is always there when it’s over. He does not smother, does not coddle—but his care is undeniable. He ensures you are warm, comfortable, tended to with the same patience and devotion he gives to everything else in his life.

His voice is the last thing you hear before sleep takes you, deep and steady, a quiet promise in the night:

“You are safe. Sleep, my love. I will not leave your side.”

Final Verdict: A Lover Who Transcends Time Itself

Zhongli does not simply take—he claims, he engraves, he leaves a mark that never fades. He is patient, unyielding, and entirely inescapable—a man who demands nothing less than all of you and gives the same in return.

To surrender to him is to lose yourself completely—only to find yourself again, in the most exquisite way imaginable.

[temmtamm]

I need you to write SOMETHING about yan Ford locking up (gn) reader slskxlflwld please I need him,,,,,,,, ogh

It wasn’t an easy feat to do this, y’know??

Really, he’d expect more appreciation on your part. Don’t you see all that he is putting on the line just for you? But, no. He supposes it is to hasty for a wild animal to suddenly get used to being loved and having a home.

And trust, that IS what you are. A wild, stray dog. One he intends on domesticating.

After all, it would do you no good to live on your own in a town like Gravity Falls. Too many creatures who would tear you limb from limb if given the chance.

Really, it’s much more preferable that he found you than the others.

…

Now, suuure, he may have found you through unconventional ways—But, hey!! Every Romcom starts with miscommunication!!

…His just happened to be him tracking you down after seeing you at the Mystery Shack, finding your home, your family, your first pets name.

It was all in the name of research, however!! Research is what he does best!! He can pick apart and dissect any topic of interest with enough time.

You just so happened to be his latest topic of interest.

—

“You have to eat, y’know?” Ford knelt down next to your curled in form laying weak on the ground, malnourished, sick, with sweat clinging to your skin and hair that hasn’t been washed in days. No matter, he’s seen worse. He’s lived through worse. They don’t exactly have showers in every single dimension, so a couple months is nothing compared to his nearly 30 years without a shower.

You didn’t respond. That has been your new gimmick lately, he noticed. You’re newest stage of grief.

You’ve already went through anger, bargaining, denial—Now, he just had to deal with your depression before he could get to the sweet ivory bliss that was acceptance.

He’d be waiting with bated breath for when you accepted him and how good this truly was for you, when you’d lean into his touch rather than jerk away.

Maybe then you can finally see more of the house than the basement—So long as you don’t snitch to the others why you’re here.

First things first, however, he needed to make sure you were healthy.

“I said eat.” He huffed, thick bushy brows knitting together as his tone grew more stern. That’s how he usually got his way, he noticed. He had to intimidate you. That’s what he had to do to stop you from stabbing him with his pens, to stop you from using any broken shards of glass to cut yourself, and to stop your from telling him how much you hated him.

Strangely enough, however, it didn’t work this time. If he had to guess, this was your new way of getting back at him, of not giving him the satisfaction of taking care of you. You’d sooner die from starvation than eat anything he cooked.

Too bad he wasn’t letting you. “They always want it the hard way..” Ford sighed, shaking his head before one of his hands jutted out, grabbing at your jaw, already so sore and bruised from the other times when he was…less than kind when handling you. It’d stop if you stopped biting, y’know.

“Glk—“ A choked gag left your lips, your nose wrinkling as your eyes grew misty from the pain. You tried to stay strong, to fight against him, though, inevitably, your mouth parted to let out a cry of pain. “Stop—“

You barely had time before a metal spoon was forced down your gullet, burning hot chili following it. You weren’t allowed solids yet.

Your eyes watered further, feeling it burn at your tender flesh and gums, making you swish it around, desperate to alleviate some of the pain before giving up, swallowing to make the pain, and food go away.

You hated that defeat tasted so good, especially with how you had been neglecting yourself lately.

“There we go,” You hated how Ford cooed even more. “That’s much better, isn’t it?”

A pathetic groan left your lips, with your head ducking back in to hide in your curled up form as he reached out, a rough, calloused six-fingers palm petting and playing with your hair as you laid like a old, tired dog.

…The feeling was soft and sweet, contrasting how tired and sore your bones were.

“There we go…Good dog.”

[boofeine]

Heyyyy I really love your writing and I think it fits the members very well

I am not sure if you do these types of request but are you okay with writing headcanons on Jeonghan's personality? Like just his personality in general? Are you okay with adding some spicy (I didn't know which other word I was supposed to use) ones at the end? How would he be like? I am a very weird person and I love analysing people's personality and jeonghan happens to be my main interest these days lol. You can do it through tarot if you want!! You of course know better than me lol and I am completely alright if you don't wanna do my request. I will still love you lol

helloo!! u r def not weird at all!! as a psychology major bb i also love analyzing ppl :)))) — i won't work with tarot for now bc next year im planning on open requests just for it. one more thing I've done tarot in their persona in bed over here !

Jh's personality – headcanons

WARNINGS: mdni under the cut, descriptive and mention of sexual subjects

jeonghan gives me best friends vibes... he looks calm, almost indifferent, but he just looks like he loves to peep with you, to talk for hours and go grab meals together. he reminds me of family.

you know his lives just eating, joking around and talking... that's exactly how he is with his friends. obviously, he's more reserved because it's with us, but i feel he is all out with his friends. that one friend that literally doesn't know when to stop the teasing and goes overboard, but it's funny nonetheless... especially when he's drunk.

prefers to do meetings at his home with homemade barbecue and beverages. or going to a restaurant with his close friends. not the club type 100%. he likes the introspective meetings.

cocky and flirty for fun :/

so so so so caring!!!!!! the type of person you'd choose to say your deepest secrets and ask advice. hears you closely, gives you comfort, and tries to help you how he can. he will even make sure to check up on you for the next days, make a joke or two to light up your mood.

he's love language is probably acts of service.

don't ever pick up a fight with jeonghan... he's that type of scary that nothing bothers him until it does. his words get assertive, and he's not afraid of saying what he has to.

something makes me believe jeonghan is protective with his friends. he will speak up if he's in a situation that makes any of his friends or anyone really uncomfortable. when there's something you tell him, he not necessarily picks a fight but encourages you to do what you should, would that be cut someone toxic from your life or doing what you want.

Spicy Thoughts

kinky!!!! KINKYYY!!! he will be honest with his wantings and desires with you, you will know what he wants to try, and he's hoping you're wanting too. communicative as hell, we love it.

jeonghan isn't quiet. man trying to contain himself?? not him!! he moans, groans, dirty talk, grunts, the whole package bb. you're making him feel good, and he wants you to know.

a switch and open for anything.

sex drive high and horny. when i say he's open for anything, i mean it... he's up for anything!! will not always be penetrative sex, you want to get on your knees and suck him, fine, let's do it. want to make out, grind and cum on your panties, he's up to. just finger you and make you cum on his tongue, okay... let's do that.

not the type to enjoy lazy or slow sexy, he likes raw, sweaty, and nasty sex.

im sorry, but i do believe he'd go to strip clubs. i feel like sex is a need for him, like a healthy need, you know what i mean? so if he's not with someone, he'd would satisfy that paying for it.

a tease, baby!!! prepare yourself for overstimulation, sensory play, and orgasm denial. he's up to make you cum many times 🙂‍↕️ you're getting sore and sensitive next morning.

jeonghan is not aggressive. he's ok with accessories, handcuffs, blindfolds, anything, he's just not causing you any physical pain.

[donotpush]

Daily vlog

CW: mpreg, sort of magic pregnancy, birth denial, car birth

"So..." Adam smiled, holding the camera over his head, to get his best angle. "Are we filming Baby #3 birth?"

Adam asked, turning to look at his wife, and at the camera again with another smile without waiting for Alissa’s reply.

His hand traveled to spank Alisa's tight, bare belly, leaving the mark of his palm over the sensitive skin and making her groan slightly. Adam nodded enthusiastically before talking to the camera again. "Of course we are! What do you think, huh? It's a tradition at this point, right, honey?"

Alisa took a deep breath, putting herself together before looking at the camera and giving her best smile. She had been up since 5 am this morning, with a crying baby hanging from her hip and a sick toddler throwing up all day long, and honestly, the last thing she wanted to do right now was to expose herself to the camera.

But Adam insisted. How could they let their followers down without a daily vlog today?

He couldn't, and he was gonna post that vlog. Of course, who wouldn't have the energy to produce, film, edit, and post a vlog when you wake up at 10 am and do exclusively nothing all day?

Alisa knew that it was their job, that the moment they signed up for the influencer life, their whole purpose (and not like she was complaining, there were moms out there that had real jobs and still had to deal with way worse than her) but she did expect some empathy from her husband.

She was about to pop, literally, this baby out. Everything was crazy, from her hormones to the altered routine in the house, but as always, Adam was blissfully unaware of the chaos that surrounded their lives right now.

“So, there you go” Adam winked at the camera, “Actually, our next blog will probably be Baby’s #3 birth, right honey?”

Yes, it was gonna be another birth vlog. This morning when she looked at herself in the mirror, Alissa realized that her stomach had dropped, tight and bloated past her hips, the taut skin stretching to its limits today seemed like it was about to burst.

So, yes, the next video on their channel Alissa was almost 100% sure it was gonna be a birth vlog.

“...maybe.”

She really wished that this time they could’ve done something a bit more… conventional. Private, away from all the cameras and views. With their last baby, Adam had the fucking camera in her face the whole process. From the moment she woke up to contractions to the moment she popped out the kid in the birthing tub. This time, she wasn’t in the mood for all that, no matter how many views it would give them.

Adam went on, ranting about something and talking about their sponsor they got earlier in the month, a really bad marketing job for a really bad product, but Alisa didn’t hear him because Ryatt was getting something she shouldn’t have inside her mouth. The blonde groaned as she clumsily tried to kneel down, reaching over her huge stomach to take the toy out of the baby’s sticky hand.

“Adam, help me here” she breathed, pointing to the baby with her hand.

Adam gave her a look, and outside of the camera frame, signaled her to wait. He talked about another one of their sponsors, said goodbye to their subscribers and their classic outro line (family always first, and y’all are family) to their subscribers, and just then walked over to help her after he turned the camera off.

“God, fuck…!” she groaned, holding onto her stomach as she struggled to stand up straight.

“Language” Adam raised an eyebrow, pointing at Ryatt with his head.

“Bullspit, I’m so darn over with this”, pointing to herself, Alisa looked down at her gravid stomach. “I’m so fucking done. I can’t wait to get this baby out of me and… And I told you I would prefer to keep his birth private, Adam”

The tone wasn’t stern or accusative, just done— deep down, Alisa knew her husband was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. Little choice she had.

“I know, I know…” Adam shrugged, his eyebrows raising and his mouth scrunching up.

He knew, of course, he did, but to be honest, he didn’t care enough. His wife was being dramatic as if she hadn’t gone over with this two times already. But he knew that he had to add something to fill the silence that followed, he always did have something to say.

“If I could, babe, I would carry our baby for you” he sighed dramatically, turning around and away from his wife. “Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now, honey…”

His words were left hanging in the air as Adam disappeared into the hallway to the kitchen, ready to grab a beer and sit down on the couch to relax for a while before getting to edit.

Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now.

Alisa stared at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen. His nice legs and his toned arms, his perfect back and she couldn’t see the six-pack, but it was there. Because Adam didn’t have to carry two kids, to gain weight and to lose weight, to lose his six-pack or to see his whole body change in a matter of months.

It wasn't him who had to endure the contractions, the labor, or the long hospital nights while waiting to be able to spread his legs open and push.

He didn’t wish he could be pregnant. Oh, but Alisa did.

***

Alisa made breakfast, did laundry, got through the morning with two kids under 5 and all while dealing with those awful cramps that kept interrupting her. They weren't contractions, she knew those pretty well, but they were the foreword of a long story.

Adam? He edited their latest video and went to take a nap on the couch.

Without opening his eyes, Adam let out a small groan and tilted his head to hide his face against one of the cushions. Something had interrupted his sleep, but he didn’t hear Ryatt's cries or Bobby playing loudly somewhere in the house, nor his wife complaining about something.

So he did what everyone would do, he didn’t even bother fully opening his eyes and tried to go fall back into a deep slumber.

But something was off. His head was feeling dizzy and his whole body was… acting funny. An overall feeling of being sick, something he ate, probably.

He shifted, moving his hips to turn to his side, and he frowned when he felt something in his stomach move. With a groan, the hand that rested between his thighs slid off from there to move to his abs, rubbing the soft spot trying to ease whatever was grumbling inside his tummy.

Soft, a bit harder if he pressed down. But it didn’t have to be soft, he hit the gym 6 days a week and had washboard abs, he was the envy of all the suburban dads in their neighborhood. Suddenly, his stomach fussed again, and this time it came accompanied by a cold free of air brushing against his skin, making him shiver.

Half asleep, fighting to pull a strand of consciousness and get himself up fully, Adam’s features turned into a confused grimace as his mind finished coming back to this reality. When he finally opened his blue eyes, covering his face with his hands to dismiss the headache that the sunlight from the windows gave him, he immediately knew something wasn’t right.

His free hand was still rubbing over his stomach, and it was still… It was round. Round and firm, the protuberance that rested under the palm of his hand.

“What…?” Adam mumbled, confusion slowly taking over his sleepiness and pulling him back to reality.

He was wide awake now, his body and mind alert. When he looked down at himself, the scream of horror that left his lips almost deafened him, leaving his eardrums ringing loudly and his heart hammering against his chest.

It felt cold. The cold breeze brushing against his skin because his white shirt was now all lifted over to his chest, exposing his warm skin to the air. His shirt was lifted because where it was supposed to be a flat, toned stomach, now there was a fat, round belly, nothing like what he had ever seen before.

He must have eaten something bad, something that made him bloat and just feel weird overall, but bloat like this?

In front of him, his stomach wasn't just bloated, it felt tight and hot at the touch and the skin was itchy, stretched to the limit in what seemed to be the few hours he was asleep. His abs were gone, and now a gravid mount of flesh sat there, huge and tender.

From confusion, Adam's mind raced to fear, because there was no logical or reasonable explanation to any of this. If it was something he ate, then it was something that made him terribly wrong and he probably should head to the doctor ASAP.

But, deep down, Adam knew it wasn't something he ate. Under a thinning layer of denial, he knew.

His chest wrenched with his agitated breaths, and Adam tried to lift himself up from the couch. He failed, not used to the weight that he carried now on his middle (God, he was heavier now) and the only thing he could do was to lay there for a few seconds, staring down.

At his belly.

He felt like he needed to puke when unexpectedly something inside him squirmed.

He closed his eyes tightly to avoid nausea rising up in his throat, and the deprivation of one of his senses seemed to whip up the other ones. He could feel how hot the skin that covered his now rounded stomach was, how hot his body was, how heavy he felt and how something was squirming inside him.

His left hand moved over his stomach, right under his left rib, and he swallowed. As soon as his hand pressed down against the tense flesh, another tiny hand pressed back from the inside.

"Fuck, fuck fuck..." gripping at the couch's back, a loud moan escaped from his lips as he curled his fingers around the fabric above the couch, holding onto it desperately, lifting himself up.

It was, to say at least, weird to carry himself around now. The few seconds that he ran, well, more like waddled, towards the bathroom were something. So this was what it was like?

The image in the mirror proved what Adam already knew.

I wish I could be pregnant.

He stared at his reflection, turning to the side to let his eyes travel from the top of his head to his middle, then turned to his other side and to the front again. His hand moved to rest on top of his stomach as if he needed another confirmation that it was there and it was real.

He thought about it for a moment, before he pinched the tight skin of his belly. He hoped he would wake up, there was a small part of him that still hoped this was just a bad dream and his mind was doing some crazy tricks while his real body was still asleep on the couch. But he was awake.

The waistband of his sweatpants moved down a centimeter. He looked down, his eyes wide open as he witnessed right in front of him how his stomach swelled, the skin extended and shifting as his stomach grew in size.

***

The front door opened, and Bobby rushed in, throwing his frog backpack next to the door before Alisa followed him with Ryatt clinging to her hip. Adam made his way to her as quickly as he could.

“Oh! Mommy, look!” Bobby shouted as soon as he saw him, his little finger pointing to Adam’s gravid stomach. “Daddy has Little brother now! Look!”

But Adam couldn't even stop to look at him, because he could only focus on the fact that where Alisa was supposed to have a nine-month overdue belly, there was just a flat stomach. Fuck.

They stood in front of each other, Alisa looked at him, then down at his belly, and then up at him again.

“Well, I guess wishes do come true, honey!” The tone was so cheerful that it made Adam’s blood boil.

Probably…his hormones messing with him? As if that was the least of his problems. A cramp took over him, painful enough to bring a frown to his face and make him rub the side of his belly.

“We need to go to the hospital!”

“Why the rush?”

A dark spot started to spread all over Adam’s grey sweatpants as a gush of amniotic fluid came out of him.

“My…your…my water just broke!”

“You need to change, and we need to take the kids to my mom’s house…”

“Why are you so calm?”

“Relax, honey” she sighed “I have done this two times already! It’s gonna be just fine. You have to change, go get the hospital bag, oh, and of course get the camera!”

“We are not… fuck… filming this” he breathed, gripping the table next to him when another sharp pain took over him.

“What do you mean?” Alisa frowned as she picked up Bobby's backpack again “It's a tradition at this point. Of course, we're filming. It’s going to be a hit.”

Besides the fact that all of this escaped all logic and reason, there was a tangible reality. Something that was happening right here, right now, and it was the fact that Adam was in labor. Didn't matter how much he tried to deny what was going on, to say he was still dreaming, because the pains that were shooting through his middle, contracting the muscles and making him whine felt very real and were happening, quicker and faster every minute.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand under his belly to lift it slightly, hoping to ease the pain or the pressure that was starting to build up on his hips, but it didn’t work. He wasn't sure how much time he had before it got actually serious, but he did know that after his water broke, it was little.

**

“Turn that off…” Adam titled the camera that rested on the car seat cup holder away, his free hand flying to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Oh, fuck…”

Alisa tilted the camera back to its original position. Her husband shifted on the passenger's seats, his both hands now busy rubbing the contracting bump that rested between his open thighs.

Well, at least now he knew that contractions were more painful than a kick in the balls.

“Oh, oh, ah!” He cried out, his body tightening up, and a low groan leaving him as he leaned forward pressing his palms against the dashboard and panting heavily. “Fuck, I need you to… ugh… I need you to drive faster, honey.”

“Babe, I’m going as fast as I can,” Alisa replied, looking at him through the corner of her eye. “Just breathe, okay?”

Looking outside the window, Adam tried to find a distraction. Anything, really, that made him not think about the increasing pressure that was building between his legs and about how low the baby was.

He shifted in his seat, his hips swinging back and front trying to find a spot that didn't make him feel so miserable. Placing a hand on the side of the seat and another on the grab handle, Adam leaned forward and spread his legs as another loud grunt escaped his lips, his eyes closing tight and his breath picking up again when another tight contraction hit him.

He tried breathing, in and out just as he would tell Alisa to do, but it wasn’t doing shit.

The heavy weight on his hips and pelvis was getting closer and closer to coming out. Adam didn’t want it to come out. At least not here, in the fucking car in the middle of the road.

“We’re five minutes away from the hospital” Alisa reassured, her hand patting his tense thigh. “Just breathe”

“I don’t… ughn, fuck! I don’t know if I can… oh… hold it in that much longer” Adam panted, moving to unclasp the seatbelt that now pressed uncomfortably against his stomach. “Fuck, there’s pressure. It feels like… I have to push!”

“How do you even know that you have to push?” Stopping at a red light, Alissa raised both eyebrows before tilting to face him.

“Because it’s coming out!” Adam cried, moving back on his seat to prop up both feet against the dashboard, throwing his head back as he moaned.

“Just breathe. We’re almost there”

Just breathe. We’re almost there. The words were an echo, and Adam was sure that he said those exact phrases before, before the births of their two kids, in this exact same car. But he didn’t realize how useless, how annoying having someone repeating just calm down was.

God, fuck, he wondered how Alissa didn’t just slap him those times. If anyone was going to tell him to calm the fuck down again, he was going to kill someone.

His murder instincts were quickly dismissed when he closed his eyes, his hands moving to slide under his belly and lifting it slightly, as if it could help to ease the pressure on his pelvis. With a cry, he shifted forward, now moving his hands to slide under his thighs, lifting his hips from the car seat.

It was coming. Now. And out.

He could feel his own body pushing against his wishes, and the more he tried to avoid it, the worse it was, the baby helpless making its way down his pelvis and towards his hole. It felt as if at the first bump Alisa hit on the road the baby would just pop out of him.

He didn’t notice when he pushed back in the seat, breathing heavily through his nose as he pressed himself down against the seat, trying to prevent anything from coming out.

But it was useless because his commitment lasted little when his brain was overwhelmed by the urge to just allow his body to do what it had to do. To push.

The baby’s head was right there. Adam’s hand slid between his legs, the palm of his hand pressing against his bulging hole, the head sitting behind his entrance and almost ready to start crowning. Almost out of him.

“…fuck!” he writhed, gritting his teeth as he kicked against the car floor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The fingers of his free hand gripped at the grab handle, knuckles turning white, and his other hand was busy pressing against his hole, trying to keep the head from coming any further. It was useless because the head was still pushing its way down, out of him on its own.

He could feel the bulge against his palm, growing ever so slowly as Alissa pressed her foot on the pedals. Adam threw his head back, closing his eyes shut and trying to focus on his breath. The same advice he always gave: breathe.

His chest rose slowly as he inhaled, then shakily exhaled through his closed lips. It should be fine, he just had to breathe —in and out and counting to five— focus on remaining calm, and he could just make it to the hospital. They were just a few minutes away, all he had to do was… push.

“Oh, fuck, it’s coming!” he screamed, kicking his feet in the air, his hips shifting forwards and to the seat edge. “Honey, Alissa, it’s right there”

Alissa tilted her head, looking away from the road for a brief moment to face her husband. She found herself contemplating an image that, deep down in her stomach, in a very hidden spot and a very small dose, made her happy: she got exactly what she wanted. Her husband going through all of the wonderful miracles of birth.

Adam panted, the tense orb his stomach had become contracting and tensing in front of him, his hands gripping at the taunt red skin, furiously trying to relieve the pain or the pressure, his body almost shaking by the urge of pushing the baby that was starting to crown. His face was red and sweaty, hands and all of his body straining and tense.

Alissa, rightfully, stopped at a red light, a bunch of cars passing in front of them.

“Don’t stop, fuck, it’s…!” Adam shouted, but then his words became a muffled groan as he gritted his teeth, pushing his chin to his chest. “I can’t hold it in, I’m pushing!”

Even against his wishes, his body was pushing. Adam found himself trying to hold the baby in, to not give in to the urge, but his body was pushing. His stomach contracted and he found himself tensing, chin to chest, and gripping at the grab handle as he pushed. He counted to three and pushed again when another cramp took over him.

“Fuck!” he shouted, feeling the head stretching him open, making its way out. Adam reached with a free hand to press his hand over his wet, birth-fluid-stained shorts, only to feel the start of a bulge in his pants.

The pressure of the head right about to crown was hell. It only made him want to push to get over it, to push more to get the head to a full crown and get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, but god fuck he didn’t want to give birth to this baby in the car.

“It’s crowning, the head’s-... nhgn, what am I supposed to do!?” it was more a whimper than a question, and Adam found himself kicking in the air, biting his lower lips until he almost drew blood. “Shit, shit, shit…! Ughn!”

“I don’t know!” Alissa stepped on the gas and accelerated. “Don’t push! Just… wait! We’re almost there, just five minutes away from the hospital.”

Adam nodded, then shook his head, both hands moving to cup the underside of his belly, trying to relieve the pressure that was weighing him down. It didn’t work, and he found himself trying to contain a moan when another contraction rippled through his body, a gush of amniotic fluid rushing from between his legs and dripping to the car floor.

His hips jerked frantically as he rocked forth and back slightly, trying to find any angle that was comfortable for him to keep this baby in, but it was terribly useless because, with every movement of his body, the baby's head seemed to come closer and closer to a full crown.

“Ughn…!” he moaned, his fingers gracelessly trying to slide under the hem of his pants in order to pull them down. The baby was coming. “Fuck, it’s coming, I’m pushing….!”

His finger’s ministrations were interrupted when he interrupted when another contraction took over him, all of his focus on pushing. He gripped the sides of his belly, leaving white marks on the red skin, as he closed his eyes and whimpered.

“Oh, oh– it’s out, the head’s out!”

It wasn’t necessary for him to say it out loud because Alissa’s attention was dangerously divided between looking at the road and staring down between her husband's legs. His pants were dark and wet, stained by amniotic fluid, and the baby’s head bulged out of them almost obscenely -–god, it was huge—, only contained from coming further by the fabric of the pants.

“Fuck— I need to push, I need to push, I’m pushing!” he moaned, throwing his head back against the car seat and jerking his hips forward, his hands desperately trying to undo his shorts. “Ughn…the…mhgm…pants! Help me!”

“I can’t, hands at 9 and 3!”

With a loud whimper, Adam finally managed to pull his shorts down enough to allow the baby’s head to pop out of him free, a gush of fluid dampening his seat as the head dangled between his legs. His body shook at the feeling of the head stretching him open on its biggest point, and then the relief when it was finally out. Alissa stared in horror as her husband held the baby’s head in hand with one hand between his legs.

Alissa reached a hand to help Adam slide his pants down more, his body contorting as he pulled forward, pushing his hips towards the free space of whatever was left in the car. Now with his pants to his ankles, his body tensed once again, and he squirmed on his seat as he focused on the next contraction that rippled through his body.

“...fuck, nhgn!” his face became red as his feet kicked the car floor, kicking and screaming as he pushed. “Nhgn!”

With his next push, the baby’s body almost came shooting out of him. He screamed in pain as he felt the body coming out of him, the shoulders being even worse than the head. But before he could realize, it was over. A second later he heard a heavy cry, and the newborn resting against his chest.

His body slumped against the seat. He looked outside the windows, seeing the well known entrance of the hospital as Alissa parked the car, parking it at the nearest spot available. Before unclasping her seatbelt, Alissa reached to grab the videocamera. Adam stared at it before he spoke.

"You filmed it, right?”

[cheeseceli]

Boyfriend Jimin

Pairing: Park Jimin × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, almost non existent angst, headcanons

Request: can i request a headcanon of what jimin would be like in a relationship? || When are we getting a Jimin bf headcanon?

Warnings: skinship, he's an idol, that's all?

A/n: how do we feel about the design | daily click

Hobi ver. | Jimin ver. | Taehyung ver. | Jungkook ver.

My boy was in denial for the first part of it, let me tell you that

He'd either wait for you to make a move or wait until you clearly explicitly like him back

He needs to be sure

Just in case

Needless to say he loves physical touch

Mostly kisses I think

I mean, we see how he is with his members so imagine with an actual s/o 😭

Bro would be kissing you like 24/7

His favourites tho: kisses on the hand, on the forehead and on the neck

🙂‍↕️

And he's such a gentle lover if I'm being honest

Besides having the softest touch ever, he also says the kindest words to you

You would definitely feel very safe and reassured around him

His love languages are physical touch, gift giving and acts of service btw

I think that in the beginning of the relationship there would be a few conflicts here and there

But mostly because of miscommunication

Once you both actually understand each other, then things would work way smoothly

Personally, I think he would enjoy having matching items

Something kinda discreet but that still gives the idea that you guys are together

Mostly jewels

The cutest because he will always smile whenever he randomly reminds himself of you

And it's crazy because he could be doing anything and then boom, suddenly you're all that he can think of

The boys always know when he's thinking of you because it's clear how his eyes suddenly get filled with love

Writes songs about you

Most likely won't show them to you unless he's really vulnerable with you

LOVES to cuddle to sleep

His favourite moment with you is those few minutes right before falling asleep where dreams and reality get kinda mixed

But he still can feel you even with all the fog in his mind

He also loves to travel with you

It doesn't matter if it's those big overseas trips or if it's just a 15 minute car ride

He loves going out with you and exploring

Will always save you a seat at his concerts

Will also always look in your direction as much as he can

Loves to hold eye contact because he KNOWS you're going to get flustered

That's how he found out you liked him at first actually lmao

Really wants you to have a good relationship with the boys

I think he would like to adopt a pet with you

Idk it just makes so much sense to me that he would want to do it

Fight me but I think he'd be one of the boys that would be able to hide your relationship with the media the longest

He would probably prefer to keep it a secret

Not because he doesn't want people to know, but because he doesn't want people all over his business

And he would be ready to fight with anyone who had anything bad to say about you

Very protective of you overall actually

Genuinely doesn't know how he lived so much before loving you

Masterlist | you'll probably like: I'm not letting go

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics | images 1, 2 and 3

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana

[themothwhisperer]

Dina is not invalidating her own sexuality.

Well, yeah. But it’s temporary. It’s pure denial and it’s for a good reason. The whole narrative will benefit from it (and it’ll just be more realistic anyway).

Here’s the thing. The world stopped evolving in 2013. Remember what it was like in 2013?

They have other priorities, you say? Their world is so different to begin with. True. Nobody should care about anyone’s sexuality. Of course. But their roots remain, for better or for worse. That means the judgements, preconceptions and interrogations still live in all of them, to a certain extent. Mentality wise, it basically is 2013! They never had a chance to learn better and grow in a world that truly embraces them for who they are (we’re not even there irl). Self acceptance is a process and every queer individual deals their own way.

So yes, Dina’s reactions are completely normal. Hell the girl probably isn’t even sure what she feels! She’s so young. She’s probably a bit scared too. If anything, I prefer to see her acting this way. It rings so true with the queer experience.

The contrast with Ellie’s journey also is something that makes their dynamic even more fascinating.

Trust the process.

Dina is queer, just give her some time.

UPDATE: In the show it’s actually 2003! How can we really expect her to react any different?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Precarious 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, arranged marriage, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you're forced to leave the pages of your books and face reality.

This is part of the Three Sisters for Three Misters AU (this reader is know as Wren)

Characters: Loki

Note: Here is the second one!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You don’t know when your perch grew so uncomfortable but it is preferable to the alternative. You lean against the trunk, legs hooked around the thick branch for balance, as you delve into a world not your own. You build the pillars in your mind, paint the vivid landscapes, and mold the characters into silhouettes. Fiction has always been much more interesting than reality. And safer. 

Still, your denial is a hefty a shield as those pages. Neither can protect you from the inevitable. The hours tick away on your watch and countdown to your fate. 

The bell will soon toll with the screech of your mother’s voice. She will be certain to sniff you out of your nest. You sigh wistfully and close the book. How many hours had you wiled away just like that? How many days had you spent ignorant to your own freedom? It is all coming to an end, though can’t truly say you ever lived outside captivity. Yet, what you know is always better than the unknown. 

Your brow twitches and you rub it to calm the tight muscle. You nearly knock your round glasses off in the process. As you straighten them, you can already hear your mother’s remonstrance. ‘Why don’t you wear your contacts? We spent all that money on them.’  

Well, mother, they make my eyes burn. 

Like everything else, you keep the gripe inside. She never cares when you do speak up. Only your sisters care and they’re just as powerless as you. 

Some might say you’re spoiled. Ungrateful, even. Look at what you were born into. Not everyone has a nice house and fancy cars and sprawling lawns. Oh, and don’t forget that title. You have one of those too. Well, no one ever asked you if you want all that. They just put the mantle on your shoulders so you could stagger under its weight. 

The familiar lurch of the front gates draws you from your spite. You dread that sound more than anything. It means there’s a guest and you were never one for people. 

You duck to see through the leaves and watch the car roll through the gates. The older model is painted a shade of robin’s egg that sticks out even at a distance. You sit up and check your watch. It’s very early still, yet, you don’t have much time at all. Not as it keeps on rolling by. 

You tuck your book in your sweater and tuck in the hem to keep it from slipping. You turn to scale down the trunk, careful as you lower yourself to the next branch and the next, before gently dropping into the grass. You stand and adjust your glasses as you try to track the vehicle’s advance towards the house. 

You hug your book through the wool of your sweater and sprint across the lawn. You stay behind the hedges and the spiked shrubs around the front of the house. You duck behind the plinth that holds a full-bellied vase of lilies.  

You peek out from behind the stone as you watch the blond man step out of the car. He peers up at the facade as he shades his gaze from the sunlight. It’s a nice day for the worst of your life. 

He’s tall and his golden hair has a subtle wave, even combed back neatly. He wears a brown suit with a plaid pattern in a tan tint, and he stands with fearless determination. He measures the house. He does not see a future wife, he sees the riches waiting. 

You skirt around behind the greenery and enter through the side door before you can be spotted. The hubbub of the cooks and the maids overshadows your covert quest. Even as the second-born daughter of a prestigious family, you go unnoticed. You scurry up your stairs as your father’s voice booms from behind you. He isn’t calling for you, he never does. 

You hurry down the hallway and the book slips from your sweater as the bottom pulls loose from your waistband. You push your glasses up into your hair as they slip down your nose. You catch the novel and press it under your arm as you charge towards Chicky’s door. You let yourself in without knocking, breathless as you slam yourself against the other side. 

Your sisters turn to you in surprise, your own must be just as plain. You only expected one, not both. 

“I saw one,” you blurt out. 

“Saw one?” Chicky, your younger sister, repeats back. 

You shush her and storm away from the door. 

“He’s tall. Blond. Look.” You point to the window, hoping he has yet to breach the walls.  

Your sisters glance at each other then behind them. Chicky stands and she goes with Kestral to look. You hover near the vanity and glance your reflection. Oh, you are a mess. You pull a leaf from your hair and glower. And you are to meet your betrothed today? 

“Oh, wow, that is typical,” Kestral sneers. “An antique car. Well, Wren, you should hope he’s yours then. By the looks of it, he’ll spend more time with that beast than you.” 

You squeak and shake your head, swaying on your feet so you almost topple. The thought makes your stomach bubble. You scrunch up your face and put your book again your chest. 

“Mm, he has manners. He is chatting rather intently with Reginald.” Kestral says. 

You frown at the mention of the valet. He is so nosy. 

“Yes, Reginald can be rather chatty,” you mutter. Chicky tilts coyly. You’re not sure why. 

“Well, Kes,” Chicky says as she turns to you, “you said you asked around. What did you hear?” 

The question makes your heart knot even if you are just as curious, though rather scared, to hear the answer. 

“Like I said, gossip is rarely useful.” Kestral gives a long sigh. “Mine, Conrad… he’s not much history in ‘society’,” she gives a lilt to the words with a gesture, “from what I’ve gathered, he comes from a well to do family. I heard more of his brother than him. Frustratingly mysterious.” 

She sounds as aggravated as her words suggest. She sits on the bed with folded arms. “then there’s Laufeyson,” the name sends a shiver through you. You remember when you first heard it spoke. Your father’s demands echo in your head. ‘You will do as I bid.’ As ever father. 

“He does have quite the reputation,” she continues. “A tricky man. I’m not entirely sure why mother and father chose him but no offense, Wrenny, you are a middle child.” 

You blink dolefully, “Mm, I’d say better than no one but no one sounds rather nice.” 

Chicky giggles. She always finds things so funny. You wish you could be like her. That anything could make you so happy. 

“And me?” your younger sister prompts. 

“Pine, proper gentleman by my measure. Never as toe out of line. No mystery. No scandal. He sounds like he was created in a factory.” 

“Boring?” Chicky wonders. 

It’s all boring and it’s all terrifying. You trace the edge of the book with your fingernail and rock. Their voices haze together as you try to imagine what your life will be. It’s right there, closer by the minute, but you just can’t imagine it. You can’t imagine the man who you’ll spend your life with. 

You squeak at the very thought of him seeing you. What will he think? And after that? You’re expected to… to… oh my. No, you could never. 

“Wren,” Kestral’s voice snaps you back, “you can take all your book and add a thousand more to your shelves. You could build yourself a castle and lock yourself away to read forever. And Chicky, you just be you. Go out shooting or dancing or shopping. As long as our duty is met, we will be free. Truly. No more mother, no more father. We will laugh in their faces and say ‘no’.”  

“I hope you’re right,” Chicky speaks your thoughts aloud. 

You don’t believe she is right, though. You don’t see it happening. As much as you would love to build a little hermitage, you don’t think any husband will stand for that. Even if your father would rather swallow glass than spend time alone with your mother, they still make their appearances. Together. 

“So, Wren, you look ready to meet your beloved,” Kestral teases.  

You blanch, “oh. Sorry. I... was reading.” 

“You? Reading?” She chuckles. “I’m only kidding. But if you want me to work on your hair, I think I might have you looking a kitten rather than a lion.” 

“Hm, yes, maybe,” your brow spasms again and you nearly slap your glasses off trying to stop it. 

“What are you wearing then?” Chicky asks. 

“Um, clothes. Er. They’re in my room,” you shrug.  

“Well, yes, I would hope,” she smirks. 

“Sorry,” you apologise again. 

“I’ve got to fetch my dress, might I get yours as well?” Kestral offers as she stands. 

You shake your head, “that’s fine. I’ll... I’ll figure it out on my own.” 

You turn for the door and she calls after you again, “we’re your sisters, you know? If you need anything... well, we’re in this together, aren’t we?” 

“Sure, uh, yes,” you murmur over your shoulder as you clasp the door handle. “See you at dinner.” 

“See you...” Kestral drones in disappointment as Chicky clucks. 

You inch open the door and peek out before you plunge into the hallway. You hurry down to your room and hide inside. You just need time to think. Get yourself straight. 

You check the mirror on the wall. Ugh! Your hair. Your face. Your everything. 

You go into the en suite bathroom and rinse your face. You moisturise with the tinted lotion Kestral gifted you and scrape your lashes with mascara. Ugh. You hate painting yourself up like a doll. So you keep it minimal; lotion, lashes, lips. 

You pop back into your room and pull out your chosen attire. Your mother approved after you moped her into submission. All the dresses she showed you had you turning your shoulder to you. She finally relented and let you choose something less... risque. 

The pattern of the silk reminds you of an empress you read about. The blue and gold pair well and the red patches add some depth. The pantsuit is as comfortable as you’ll be given the circumstances. 

You’re not like Kestral. You can’t pull off elegance, and you’re far from cute, like Chicky. You’re just yourself. That fact is not a happy one for your parents. You’re not sure it’ll be any more endearing to the stranger you’ll call your husband. 

You put it on and tie up the belt. You have some bronze heels to match and a satin band to try to rein in your hair. The sapphire on the headband adds a touch of shine to appease your mother. When you look at yourself all done up, you’re still not ready. 

You wonder if that blond man is the one you’re expected to wed. The very thought makes you sick to your stomach. He doesn’t look like a good match. He’s too suave, too handsome, too pristine. Well, no aristocratic gentleman would present himself otherwise. 

You retreat from your reflection and sit at your desk. You stare at the book, mourning it like a friend. You aren’t naive or foolish, though many people assume that you are. A marriage means you won’t be alone. You won’t be able to just sit and read and hide away from the world.  

Your mother might be demanding but you expect nothing less than a tyrant to replace her. By your father’s foreboding, any husband would be right to put you in your place. Based on how disappointed your own parents are, you can’t imagine someone without any familial obligation will be any less disillusioned. 

You bend forward and rest your forehead on the book. It’s not just all those fictional companions you’ll lose. It’s your sisters. They speak as if it will all be as it is, just with some new faces. You know better than that. You’ve read enough stories of strained arrangements and reluctant pairings, but this is no fairytale. You will have no happily ever after. 

[twopoppies]

I'd like to share my opinion in refrence to this ask and see what you think: I think the first thing to acknowledge is that Louis knows he played a role in creating this. He knows that in the past, he rebelled against his closet in the only ways he could—through coding, lyrics, even the bears. But he’s not that young, reckless version of himself anymore and he’s now trying to rein it in. Because while those signals may have been acts of defiance back then, they also helped create a situation that he now has to manage all the time for his own privacy.

And that’s where these more recent denials come in. If you actually look at what he’s saying, he’s not saying what people think he is. He’s not denying anything about Harry. He’s not saying he’s straight. He’s saying that this conversation has become too big, too invasive, too damaging at times.

"And occasionally, [these theories] end up addressing things that are a little unfair. This is what we have now. There’s nothing I can do about it."

This is what actually bothers him. Not people believing in Larry. Not people thinking he’s in love with Harry. But the way people go after his family, invade his privacy, and refuse to respect the reality he’s living in. Because whatever the truth of the situation may be, Freddie has been in his life for eight years. This is his reality for now. At this point, what else can he do but accept the situation and try to make the best of it? I think that’s really what it comes down to—boundaries. Not just for himself, but for the people around him who never asked to be part of this narrative. Because while there are plenty of fans who support him quietly and respectfully (like us staying over here on our little corner of Tumblr), there are also people who take it way too far—who harass his friends and family, invade privacy, and trample over boundaries in pursuit of proof.

And I think that’s who he’s really calling out when he speaks on this. Not the people who love and support him. Not even the ones who believe in Larry. But the ones who won’t accept that some things aren’t theirs to dig into. The ones who make his closet harder to live in. The ones who take what was once about love and turn it into a demand for answers he can’t give.

So, I think he uses these denials more to set boundaries. At the end of the day, I think his priority isn’t proving or disproving anything—it’s making life as livable as possible for himself and the people he loves (including Harry).

Hi, darling. I agree with all of this, with one small bit of nuance added.

The last denial was very different from all the others. With that, plus the documentary, I agree very much that he’s trying to set boundaries. And there are definitely larries who overstep, just as much as there are solos etc. who do.

The problem is that every denial he’s done previously has felt so targeted toward larries and “conspiracies,” that the immediate reaction from everyone is to attack us (and for us to feel defensive).

I think this new vibe is certainly a better approach. And, as I’ve been saying for a while (and in the post you link), I think he’d prefer fans who focus on his music, his fashion brand, and whatever other work he does, and stop focusing so much on his personal life.

They don’t need the same sort of support they once did. I do wish he’d just say that instead of leaving it up to everyone to read between the lines because most people are going to read it in a way that suits their own narrative.

I recognize it’s a very tricky thing to do. But fans could help if they’d pull back a bit. I know I’ve been trying to do that (it’s hard).

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter one

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

AO3LINK NEXT

"You're in denial, you could just say you didn't want me anymore. But you prefer to pretend that..." You throw his favorite book out the window like it means nothing. 'Cause now it doesn't mean.

"You can't blame me, our romance should have ended a long time ago. But you and I..." Yoongi seems almost too serious saying this. Do you mean nothing to him?

"You and me what?" You respond from the balcony of your apartment. Luckily your neighbors aren't too curious to know why you're yelling at your ex-lover.

"You know I can't shout that here, some fans might be here." Poor little thing, at that moment you wonder where the brave man is who asked you to embark on this relationship even though you knew your worlds would never be the same.

"I thought the whole point of paying a lot of money to live in an apartment far from the big city and known for its discretion would be being able to yell at you at two in the morning." You don't care if he thinks he's going to leave you without anything more or less, and that you're going to come out of this situation smiling, he should have found someone else to have sex with.

"If you would let me come up, we could talk like adults." He speaks subtly with an impressive poker face. If he stops being a musician, perhaps he could try a career as an actor or a gambler.

"Like adults? I'll be waiting for the other adult to arrive." You say throwing some clothes that are in your apartment that belong to him.

"Like you're being mature about all this. Damn!" One of his belongings ends up breaking near his feet. In fright he lets out several swear words, you luckily end up laughing.

"You break up with me over the phone and I have to be mature. I gave up part of my freedom to be yours. And look what I get in return." Anger took over you initially but now all you can do is try to keep from crying.

"Y/N. Let me in, so we can talk. I can see you almost crying from here." You smile lightly as you feel tears fall down your cheek. What a humiliation.

"If you cared about me you would have had the decency to say that you wanted to finish it the last time you were here." His cowardice can only be explained by his fear of having to do this in person.

"I couldn't. I didn't..." That was exactly what was left of the two of you. An awkward silence and resentment.

"Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to curse your name or tell someone you broke my heart?" You say that sobbing. What a tragedy it is that has made you sentimental now.

"Just because we don't work anymore doesn't mean I don't love you." You look at him and for a moment you feel more sorry for him than for yourself.

"If this is how you love someone. I'm sorry to inform you that you don't know love." Ironically it makes you smile. Maybe this is all his fault, not yours.

"Love..." It's very painful to see the man you've been involved with for the last year, call you that and not be able to respond.

"I'll send the rest of your things to the company. Don't worry, I won't expose you any more than I already have. Now get out of here, you and your fake love." Using one of his songs as the grand finale was a majestic act. Crying yourself to sleep, unfortunately, is not so majestic.

Two Months Later...

"You were the only person I thought would understand my situation. Try not to judge me but I need an opinion." You say looking Namjoon in the eyes. You got really close to him during your secret relationship with Yoongi.

"Is it too big a secret?" He asks entering his new home. A home where you swore you would start over.

"You tell me..." You say, opening your coat and revealing your stomach.

"Did you call me here because you gained weight after the breakup or do you have worms?" Namjoon asks and you smile nervously. Until you shake your head denying.

"Let's say the weight gain is due to something prior to the breakup..." You try not to say the word. Maybe the situation will go away if you don't name it.

"You are pregnant?" He named his current situation. Now it means it's really happening.

"Surprise!" You say trying to liven up the situation but you know you're fucked. Namjoon seems really surprised. As soon as he assimilates the information, he hugs you. You knew you could lean on the friendship you two have.

[jinbeisluffy]

I see so many posts over different social media platforms about sexuality/gender hcs for the strawhats and i want to add in my own two cents because i believe im very correct (but anyone’s opinion is valid so long as it doesnt go against canon coding)

Luffy - the most aroace and trans guy to ever BREATHE. i dont mean aroace in that hes somewhere on the spectrum where he can still be attracted to people, because he cant. this guy had never grasped the concept of romance and never will, because theres no reason for it to him. hes trans because i say he is, i dont have many reasons for THAT but its just the signals hes sending me. trans to trans communication trust

Zoro - gay. thats it thats the post. no but i dont ship luffy with anyone but zoro is just attracted to literally any man who is strong, thats his criteria and thats all he ever needs. is he aware of it? not at all, he has no idea that its not normal to get bricked up by the thought of other men

Nami - i havent seen a bigger lesbian in media ever, genuinely i dont think any other character is as obviously lesbian as she is. she loves girls unapologetically no matter what, supports all girls at the end of the day (cough kalifa) . i also hit her with the asexual beam because i can, specifically demisexual because i THINK so

Usopp - while i wanna consider kaya, i wanna consider sanji too and thats making me lean between bi or omni even if omni is a label under the bi umbrella. its more a question of if he recognises his preference for men or not, because he does prefer then at the end of the day. the ace beam bounces from nami to usopp because he too doesnt feel anything and doesnt think about it either

Sanji - oh my god where do i begin. maybe just the blatant queer coding of wci as a whole?? of course hes attracted to women, thats not an aspect you can remove or just toss around to being something else. he loves and respects women, but he is so QUEER. all of wci is just queer coding, its a queer story and sanji is a queer character i will die on this hill. he probably has some kind of gender issues too, what specifically? no clue, but he likes people of multiple genders and is in deep denial about it all the time he wont ever truly accept it but he can one day as a treat live with that fact

Chopper - oh hes a reindeer he cant really have a sexuality DID WE FORGET THE FACT HES HUMAN TOO ISNT THAT LIKE HIS WHOLE THING, NOT BEING A MONSTER BUT ALSO A HUMAN. HE IS BOTH? i dont have any specific labels to slap onto him, just that hes a people lover and encourager of literally everything. ace beam bounces onto him too

Robin - trans trans trans trans trans trans trans trans you will accept robin transfem into your life right here right now. she can like anyone, she has no label on it, she just likes people and cant bother with genders or anything like that. the ace beam actually skips her because if they were doing a hear me out cake she’d be the one putting all of the crazy things. freak. (lovingly)

Franky - HOW TRANS CODED IS IT NOT TO REBUILD YOUR OWN BODY TO BECOME A BETTER VERSION OF YOURSELF AND TO REBUILD YOUR LIFE IN A WAY YOU WANT, BUT GOING BACK TO WHAT YOU LOVED ABOUT YOUR OLD SELF, AND EMBRACING IT. literally, trans goals. he modified his body and went i might as well give myself top surgery and an awesome dick while im here!! sexuality wise hes a lover of everyone, but he has preferences for women (robin) but encourages all bromances (with brook)

Brook - THIS IS WHERE IM MOST PASSIONATE!!!! people can say that hes the token straight grandpa. but theyll never understand the joy of old gay brook had a romance with his captain, the joy of brook trying to subtlety let the other strawhats know he accepts them (he isnt subtle at all and everyone knows). look at brook in drag twice for no reason and tell me he isnt queer, in some way. the ace beam finally hits someone and its brook, insert skull joke here

Jinbei - very specifically old gay man who didnt really do much throughout his youth, he always knew he liked men but he never had TIME to do anything, too busy being awesome and a father i fear. now that hes with the crew he isnt automatically gonna seek anyone out, but hes also not gonna restrain himself from finding interests in people, hes being more selfish now and thats good for him. finally the ace beam hits jinbei and proceeds to fly off towards other op characters that i might talk about some other time

can you tell im asexual and love projecting onto characters with it !!!!

[sunnystaytiny2018]

——————————————

ATEEZ Fanfiction

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Fandom: ATEEZ

Pairing: ATEEZ x Fem Reader

Genre: Smuttttt -maybe a few more- tttt

POV: First Person

Additional Tags: Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Rough, Mean punishments, multiple rounds, squirting, orgasm denial, choking, spanking, biting, jealous sex, established relationship, 0T8 x Reader, g x b, blindfold, blow jobs, multiple partners at once, cum licking, creampies, cum swallowing

Requested by @yuyuyuyumesblog

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have been really misbehaving lately. My boyfriends had been so busy that they didn't seem to have time for me anymore. So I started acting out to get their attention. Not rejecting someone when they are clearly flirting with me and dancing around with other guys. I still hadn't gotten a reaction out of any of them, considering they weren't there. Or so I thought. So why the hell were my boyfriends standing there in our living room like it was an intervention?

“Um, I'm home.”

“Why were you out so late?” Hongjoong questioned me.

“I went clubbing.”

“Without us?” Wooyoung demanded and I frowned, feeling anger bubble in my chest.

“Every time I ask you're too busy! Every last one of you!” I yelled, my eyes watering from frustration.

“Oh! So you just go and grind on some other guy?!” Seonghwa demanded and I was taken aback, Seonghwa rarely ever yelled.

“How did-”

“You think we didn't have an eye on you at all times?” San asked, as if that was the most outlandish thing to think. Hongjoong set his laptop on the computer and showed me a video of me dancing near a guy. I never actually grinded up on anyone, I didn't want anyone but one of my boyfriends. But I let them close enough to cause jealousy.

“Get your ass to the room and strip. I better find you waiting in position for your punishment, baby girl.” My heart raced. I quickly skimmed over everyone to find I would in fact be punished by every single one of them. Fear and excitement swirled in my chest. “NOW.” I jumped and quickly headed to his room.

“Yes, Daddy.” I whimpered. I tripped half way down the hall but I quickly got up and hurried into his room, not wanting the punishment to be worse than they already planned because I wasn't ready by the time they got here. I stripped all my clothes off and scrambled on the bed into position. I sat on my knees with my palms upwards on my thighs. My head bowed down, not daring to look up especially as my boyfriends came into the room.

“Oh good, she listened. I'm sure she already knows her punishment won't be easy, right Baby?” Jongho asked as he titled my chin up. I remained silent knowing I wasn't supposed to reply, it was merely a rhetorical question.

“Well, tell you what. How about…” Yunho whispered as he slowly pulled a silk fabric over my eyes. “If you can guess who is pleasuring you, we can switch to the next person. He won't get to cum. But if you make a wrong guess or don't guess within 15 seconds… you don't to get to cum and he does.” The idea made my heart race and my pussy ached. This might be the harshest punishment yet. They had never denied me orgasms for so long.

“Color?” Hongjoong's voice broke through the darkness of my vision.

“Green.” I replied as hands immediately guided me to lay down and spread my legs.

“First person.” Hongjoong said as the bed dipped and someone moved between my legs and rubbed his hands on my legs. My legs turned from the intimate touch. I sucked in a breath as I tried to focus. His hands weren't on the bigger side of the members. So Yunho and Mingi were out of play. When I felt their tongue delve into my pussy I let out a whimper. Okay, not Hongjoong or Wooyoung. They prefer eating me out after destroying me. I breathed in their scent.

“Yeo-Yeosang?” I stuttered out as my back arched into his tongue.

“Wow, very good, baby.” Hongjoong praised and Yeosang increased the speed of his tongue and pushed a finger into my wet pussy. I let out a desperate cry due to the sudden contact. I hadn't had sexual contact or action for a while.

“Oh Yeosang!” I moaned at his soft touches accompanied with the feverish licks of his tongue. My hands tangled in his brown locks as I felt my body jolt and tense. “I'm close, baby.” I moaned as he added a second finger increasing the pleasure. My back arched as my body released a gentle and warm orgasm. Yeosang had to pull himself away and someone new replaced him.

I felt his hands drag on my thighs and I bit my lip. I think I may already know who it is. I'm not saying all of them don't like my thighs but there is one specific one who loves them. He always touches and marks them up. Maybe I knew my boys better than I thought. I really started out thinking I would fail over and over. I felt his lips on my thighs for only a second before spreading my legs and immediately pushed into me.

I let out a cry at the stretching but I tried to focus on the feeling of his dick. I want to cum again, so bad. But this definitely wasn't who I thought it was, since he would have spent much longer than that on my thighs. I could only think of one of the guys who didn't do as much foreplay, not that I mind. Sometimes I just want a good fuck without the extra steps to work up to it. But then again I love the foreplay too. The nicest thing about having 8 boyfriends is each one of them can satisfy certain needs that the others may not be able to.

I let out a moan as he snapped his hips, pushing deeper inside of me. His rhythm was familiar, well of course it was. His rhythm is strong and almost harsh. Yep, I knew who it was.

“Who is it, baby?” Hongjoong asked as I felt fingers slip to my clit as his hips began to snap faster. Shit wait, it wasn't Hongjoong?

“I-I don't know! I thought it was you, I- W-Wooyoung?” I asked as he sucked in a breath.

“Incorrect, Honey. You don't get to cum.” Hongjoong informed me and I whined out. I already had an orgasm building since the one between my legs started rubbing my clit and fucking my pussy like it's the best thing he's ever felt. He finally let his voice out after I got it wrong.

“Fuck~ You feel so good.” Jongho growled in my ear and it sent shivers of pleasure through my body. His voice and groans are too sexy. My legs tensed as I tried to hold it back

“Color, baby?

“Green.” I moaned out, the shake in my breath making it clear I was teetering on the edge.

“Hold it, baby.” Jongho groaned as his pace increased and he withdrew his hand from my clit.

“I-I can't. I can't hold it-” I whimpered out as my abdomen tensed painfully.

“Yes, you can, baby. And you better not cum.” Seonghwa instructed. I could hear the sound of some of the guys jerking themselves off while watching. Soft groans coming from different parts of the room.

“You look so sexy getting pounded into, baby.” Wooyoung praised from somewhere in the room. “Squirming and trying not to cum.” Jongho thrusted deeper before spilling himself inside of me. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I felt slight relief as he cummed inside of me. No longer having any stimulation that made my body want to orgasm. Jongho kneeled between my legs and looked down at me.

“I'll be back, baby.” Jongho purred and gave me a kiss before leaving the spot. It took a few seconds before the next person caused the bed to dip again. My legs were still trembling slightly from the previous stimulation but holding back the orgasm.

I felt the brush of jeans against my pussy and I smiled softly. This one I knew for sure. There was only one member who liked to have sex with his jeans still on. His hands squeezed and kneaded my sides making it even more clear that it was who I thought it was. His hands moved up to my breasts and squeezed them. A moan slipped out of my mouth at the dorm squeeze. His lips were on them, soft fluttering kisses around the nipples. Then his hot tongue was on my tits drawing out the loudest moan since this had started. I rubbed my thighs together as my pussy clenched. I moved my hand along his arms and to his hair.

“Mingi, please.” I moaned and I felt the smirk spread on his face.

“Okay, baby. As you wish.” He said as he began to rub my clit as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. My back arched at the feeling of his silver rings against my burning pussy. He began to suck harder on my nipples and I couldn't last any longer from the sensitivity.

“Mingi! I'm close.” I moaned before orgasming on his fingers. He pulls them out and he makes a loud slurping sound, telling me he just sucked his fingers clean of my juices. I shivered, feeling turned on all over again. God, Mingi was nasty and I fucking loved it.

“Next one, Sweetheart.” Seonghwa purred to me. I felt cum splatter on my stomach and a low groan from Yunho. I decided to do something sexy and I slowly trailed my hand from my breast to my stomach until I felt my fingers touch the now warm cum. I heard his breath hitch as someone else got on the bed. I scooped some on my finger and sucked my lips.

“Oh fuck, I can't. She's too sexy. I'm done playing this game. I need to fuck her.” Wooyoung growled from between my legs. He ripped the tie off of my face to see his feral look. He grabbed me by my thighs and yanked me down. “Fuck, you so pretty, baby. I might just cum in you the second I put it in.” He said before pushing into me. I let out a loud and desperate moan. Thank God, someone broke. I need them so fucking bad it hurts. I want to feel their cum leaking out of my pussy like their good little cum slut.

“Please! Fuck yes please, Woo.” I moaned as he began to fuck me. The other members joined us on the bed and hands were on me. One landed to hold my cheeks.

“Open wide, baby.” Hongjoong ordered and I opened my mouth obediently. Hongjoong smirked and pushed into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I choked a little before adjusting to his size as my body continued to bounce up from Wooyoung's thrusts. Moans escaped around Hongjoong's dick as I sucked on him like it was the tasty lollipop ever. I missed this. I missed them.

Mingi began to suck on one tit and Yunho joined in my other. The pleasure was too overwhelming as I orgasmed once more. Hongjoong began to face fuck me and someone nudged my hand with their dick. I didn't hesitate to take whoever it was. It didn't matter who it was. I wanted to pleasure them all equally. I used the precum from his dick and smeared it around and started to pump my hand as I squeezed my eyes shut, Hongjoong busting in my mouth. I swallowed it quickly and Hongjoong slowly pulled out to be replaced by Seonghwa. He slowly pushed into my mouth and allowed me to go at my own pace, throwing his head back in pleasure.

I orgasmed once more, encouraging Wooyoung to cum inside me. He was pushed aside and quickly replaced by San who began to lap my pussy up. The thighs were trembling and someone else began to kiss, suck, and bite them. I moaned around Seonghwa's dick as the one I was jerking off cummed on my face.

“Cumming~” Jongho warned before doing so. I squinted my eyes closed so I didn't get any in my eyes. By the end of the night, my body was worn and marked. My boyfriends quickly washed and cleaned my body and changed the sheets before allowing me to lay in the bed again.

“Thank you, Love. You did so good. We really needed you.” San said as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. I nodded as I snuggled into his arms.

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too.” Seonghwa said softly, giving me a soft kiss as well.

“You can sleep, sweetheart.” Hongjoong encouraged me as he tucked the blanket around my body. I nodded, already nodding off.

[muiitoloko]

Learning to love

Summary: Love exists, but both just need to learn to show it.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Foul language, pregnant sex, breast milk, obscenity, orgasm denial and spanking.

Author's Notes: Ah, buckle up for a wild ride! So, I might be straying a little from Judge Turpin's character, but hey, who doesn't love a little mellow Turpin every now and then, right? Plus, I had so much fun writing this! And let's be real, we all deserve a dose of cute Turpin every now and then, don't we? So, without further ado, here is the epic story of Turpin's unexpected soft side! (But not too much because he's Judge Turpin.) And hey, full disclosure, I didn't fully proofread this chapter because, well, lazy mode is on! Let's dive in and enjoy the madness together! 🚀

First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth and Ninth part here.

As Judge Turpin mingled with high-ranking men at the ball hosted by the Byrons, he felt a sense of discomfort gnawing at him. The lavish festivities were not his preferred environment, but he knew the importance of ingratiating himself with these influential individuals.

As the conversation turned to Turpin's wife, the simple peasant girl he had chosen to marry, he bristled inwardly. He sipped his wine with a cold expression, his brown eyes flashing with a hint of irritation at the mention of her.

The men around him exchanged knowing glances, their voices filled with condescension as they discussed Turpin's unconventional choice of spouse. One of them scoffed at the idea, suggesting that it would have been wiser for Turpin to marry a woman of noble birth, someone with wealth and social standing.

Turpin's nostrils flared with barely contained anger, but he maintained his composure, knowing that losing his temper would only undermine his position further. Instead, he offered a tight-lipped smile, his voice dripping with disdain as he defended his wife's honor.

"My wife knows her place," he stated coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I have taught her well."

But despite his outward display of confidence, Turpin couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he glanced over at you, his pregnant wife, surrounded by curious women eager to feel the life growing inside you. He despised the attention you garnered, feeling a possessive jealousy burning within him as others laid their hands on what was rightfully his.

However, he forced himself to maintain his facade of indifference, his gaze hardening as he watched the women fussing over you. To the men around him, he projected an air of superiority, refusing to let their mockery affect him.

As the women fussed over you, their hands reaching out to touch your pregnant belly, you felt like a spectacle on display. You couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under their scrutinizing gazes, their curious whispers only adding to your unease.

Just as you were beginning to feel overwhelmed by the attention, Turpin intervened. With a cold and authoritative aura, he strode over to you, his mere presence enough to scatter the women like frightened birds. His brown eyes bore into yours, stoic and almost angry, as he held out his hand, demanding that you come dance with him.

Relieved to escape the suffocating attention, you eagerly accepted his offer, extending your gloved hand to grasp his. Despite the formalities of the occasion, you couldn't help but notice the heat of his hand seeping through the fabric, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Without a word, Turpin led you to the dance floor, his grip firm and reassuring as he guided you through the crowd of other couples. The musicians played a lively tune, setting the mood for the evening's festivities as you fell into step with your husband.

Turpin's grip on your hand was firm and commanding, his brown eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was a hint of something else in his gaze, something that made your heart flutter with anticipation.

The dance itself would have been almost graceful if not for the hindrance of your pregnant belly. Turpin guided you through the steps of the dance with skill and precision, his movements fluid and effortless. His hooked nose and stern expression seemed oddly fitting for the elegant dance, adding an air of authority to his every move.

As you circled each other on the dance floor, your hands barely touching, you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with your husband. It was the second time you had danced with him since your marriage, and despite his usual aversion to such activities, you couldn't help but wonder if it was the drink that had encouraged this sudden decision.

"Thank you," you whispered quietly as you twirled past him, your voice barely audible over the music. "The women were suffocating me with so much attention."

But Turpin seemed to ignore your words, his gaze fixed on yours as he led you through the intricate steps of the dance. His baritone voice was deep and commanding as he spoke, his words tinged with an air of authority that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you.

"Focus on the dance, my dear," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music. "Let everything else fade away."

You nodded obediently, losing yourself in the rhythm of the dance as you followed Turpin's lead. Despite the physical limitations imposed by your pregnancy, you moved with a grace and elegance that surprised even yourself.

As you glided across the dance floor with Turpin, the atmosphere crackled with an undeniable tension, palpable even amidst the elegant movements of the dance. Turpin's grip on your hand was firm yet strangely electrifying, his brown eyes boring into yours with a fervent intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Despite the formalities of the occasion, there was an undeniable magnetism between you and Turpin, a raw, unspoken desire simmering beneath the surface. As you moved in perfect harmony with him, your heart raced with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, unaware of the turmoil raging within Turpin's heart.

To you, the dance was a moment of pure bliss, a chance to lose yourself in the music and the movement. But to Turpin, it was something else entirely—a tantalizing dance of seduction, each step bringing him closer to the object of his desire.

As you twirled past him, your eyes sparkling with exhilaration, Turpin couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart hammered in his chest as he drank in your beauty, the soft curve of your cheek, the delicate arch of your neck, the way your dress hugged your body in all the right places.

But you remained oblivious to his silent admiration, lost in the thrill of the dance as you followed Turpin's lead with unwavering trust. The sexual tension between you grew with each passing moment, but you were too captivated by the rhythm of the music to notice.

When the dance finally came to an end, Turpin couldn't bear to linger a moment longer in the suffocating confines of the ballroom. With a sense of urgency burning within him, he pulled you off the dance floor and out of the Byrons' mansion without a second thought.

You were taken aback by his sudden departure, questioning why you were leaving the ball so early. But Turpin offered no explanation, his brow furrowed in determination as he continued to lead you away.

"Shouldn't we at least say goodbye to the Byrons?" you asked, your voice tinged with confusion.

Turpin's response was unexpected, his usually composed demeanor giving way to a rare display of vulgarity. "The Byrons can fuck off," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "We're leaving."

You were shocked by his outburst, knowing that Turpin rarely used such foul language except in the privacy of the bedroom. But before you could protest, he tugged you along, his grip firm and unyielding as he guided you towards the waiting carriage.

As Turpin waved to the coachman, the carriage door was quickly opened for him. With a sense of urgency, he helped you inside before entering himself, slamming the door shut behind him. But instead of taking his usual seat in front of you, he advanced towards you, his eyes smoldering with desire as he captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss.

You were initially surprised by his sudden passion, but the intensity of his kiss ignited a fire within you, and you responded eagerly, melting into his embrace. The stubble of his beard scratched against your skin, adding a rough edge to the tenderness of his touch as the carriage began to move forward, carrying you both towards your home.

Turpin's hunger for you was palpable, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive fervor. With a boldness that took you by surprise, he took one of your hands and pressed it against his crotch, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal. Despite your initial shock, you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through you at his touch.

As you pulled away from the kiss, blushing slightly at the intimate contact, you tried to move your hand away. But Turpin held you tight, his voice rough and hoarse as he remarked with a hint of amusement that even after two years of marriage, you still blushed at his advances.

Embarrassed by his observation, you attempted to hide your face in the crook of his neck, but Turpin wouldn't let you escape. He grabbed your chin firmly, his eyes boring into yours with a smoldering intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Don't hide from me, my dear," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "You belong to me, body and soul."

Feeling emboldened by his words, you met his gaze with a mixture of desire and apprehension. Turpin's eyes seemed to darken even more, a finger pressing against your lips until you parted them obediently.

Without a word, you sucked his finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it in a provocative dance. Turpin's breath hitched at the sensation, a low growl escaping his lips as he watched you with hungry eyes.

Satisfied by your response, Turpin withdrew his finger from your mouth, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

With a sense of anticipation hanging heavy in the air, the carriage continued its journey towards your home. But for you and Turpin, the real journey had only just begun—a journey fueled by passion, desire, and the unbreakable bond that bound you together as husband and wife.

As the carriage rattled along the darkened streets, the atmosphere inside grew increasingly charged with tension and desire. Richard Turpin's gaze lingered hungrily on your form, his eyes tracing the curves of your body with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

His baritone voice broke the silence, the husky tone sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. "Are your breasts still sore?" he inquired, his words laced with a mixture of concern and arousal.

You shook your head in denial, but before you could offer any further explanation, you confessed, "But they were leaking this morning."

Turpin's eyes lit up with a predatory gleam, his arousal evident as he leaned in closer to you. The bulge in his pants pressed against you, a physical manifestation of his desire as he moved to explore your breasts.

With a sense of urgency, he reached forward, his hands deftly undoing the buttons of your dress to expose your beautiful breasts to his hungry gaze. Despite his usual restraint, Turpin could no longer hold back his primal urges, his desire for you consuming him like a raging fire. He buried his face between your breasts, inhaling deeply as he savored the sweet, intoxicating scent of your skin. His lips trailed a path of fire across your flesh, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake as he teased and tantalized your sensitive skin.

You couldn't help but gasp and moan as Turpin's lips closed around your nipple, his tongue flicking and teasing the sensitive bud until it hardened with desire. His stubble scratched against the delicate skin of your breast, adding a rough edge to the pleasure that washed over you in waves.

Turpin's movements were deliberate and purposeful, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to elicit a symphony of pleasure from you. As you clutched the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair, he sucked hard on your nipple, drawing forth the sweet, creamy taste of your milk.

The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as Turpin drank greedily from your breast. With each pull of his lips, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

But Turpin wasn't satisfied with just one breast—he wanted to taste all of you. As the other breast began to leak, he wasted no time in latching onto it, his lips closing around the swollen nipple as he suckled eagerly, his hunger for you insatiable.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the blissful haze of pleasure that enveloped you. Turpin's touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and you found yourself craving more with each passing moment.

As the euphoria of pleasure enveloped you, a nagging worry crept into your mind, casting a shadow over the blissful haze of desire that consumed you. Between moans of pleasure, you couldn't help but question your husband's actions, a sense of unease gnawing at the edges of your consciousness.

"Richard," you gasped breathlessly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Isn't this... wrong? This is our baby's food... you shouldn't be... doing this..."

But Turpin's response was swift and commanding, his voice low and dangerous as he silenced your protests with a single, chilling command.

"Quiet," he growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You belong to me, and I will take whatever I want from you."

Despite your instinctive urge to protest, you found yourself falling silent at his words, a shiver of fear mingling with the arousal that pulsed through your veins. Turpin's gaze bore into yours with a predatory intensity, his brown eyes smoldering with desire as he continued to feast upon your breast.

With a sudden, abrupt movement, Turpin released your breast from his mouth, a thin string of saliva still connecting your tender flesh to his lips. He met your gaze with a mixture of hunger and possessiveness, his words dripping with an undeniable sense of dominance.

"You are mine," he declared, his voice rough and commanding. "And I will take whatever pleasures I desire from you."

Despite the conflicting emotions swirling within you, you couldn't deny the undeniable thrill that coursed through your body at his words. Turpin's dominance ignited a primal fire within you, awakening desires you never knew existed as he claimed you as his own.

With a boldness that surprised even you, Turpin slipped a hand under your skirt, his fingers trailing teasingly along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You gasped in surprise at the sudden contact, your body responding instinctively to his touch as he continued to explore your most intimate areas.

Turpin's fingers found their way to the damp fabric of your panties, the evidence of your arousal soaking through the delicate fabric. With a satisfied smirk, he teased your swollen clit through the thin material, eliciting a moan of pleasure from your lips as he sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Turpin's voice rumbled with a mixture of desire and dominance as he leaned in close, his hot breath tickling your ear. "You've been a naughty girl, haven't you?" he growled, his tone sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

You blushed furiously, unable to meet his intense gaze as you squirmed under his scrutiny. "I-I don't know what you mean," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Turpin wasn't convinced by your feeble protestations. With a low, menacing growl, he reached out and grasped your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Don't hide from me," he snarled, his brown eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Before you could respond, Turpin crushed his lips against yours in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue probing hungrily at your lips until you parted for him. With a deft motion, he slipped his hand between your legs, his fingers tracing teasing circles against your damp panties.

"You want this," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and commanding. "You want to ride my cock right here in this carriage, don't you?"

You gasped in shock at his brazen words, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But deep down, you couldn't deny the truth of his words—the thought of being taken by him in such a scandalous manner sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

As you hesitated, unsure of how to respond, Turpin growled impatiently, his frustration evident in the way his grip tightened on your wrists. "Don't make me wait," he warned, his voice dripping with authority. "I want you, and I want you now."

With trembling hands, you reached down to the hem of your dress, lifting it up to expose your soaked panties to Turpin's hungry gaze. But before you could fully undress, Turpin intervened, his hands moving to help you remove your panties with a swift, decisive motion.

Once the delicate fabric was discarded, Turpin wasted no time in situating himself on the opposite side of the carriage, his eyes never leaving your trembling form. With a predatory smirk, he stuffed your panties into his suit pocket, a silent reminder of your submission to him.

"Come here," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument as he beckoned you towards him. Without hesitation, you obeyed, your heart pounding with a heady mixture of fear and desire as you straddled his lap.

As you hovered above him, Turpin took a moment to undress, discarding his clothes with a swift, efficient motion. His erection sprang free from its confinement, the sight of it making your mouth water with anticipation.

With a sense of urgency, you impaled yourself on him, sinking down onto his throbbing length with a guttural moan of pleasure. Turpin's hands gripped your hips possessively, guiding you as you began to rock your hips against his in a rhythm as old as time.

The sensation of him filling you completely sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your walls clenching tightly around him as you rode him with abandon. Each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge, your cries of ecstasy mingling with Turpin's primal grunts of satisfaction.

Turpin leaned his head back against the carriage wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he continued to ride the wave of pleasure crashing over him. "You're a bad girl, aren't you?" he growled, his voice thick with desire and accusation. "A very bad girl."

Confusion clouded your features as you continued to move against him, your hips rotating slightly in rhythm with his thrusts. "I don't understand," you protested, your voice laced with uncertainty. "What did I do wrong?"

Turpin's eyes snapped open, his gaze boring into yours with a fierce intensity. "You know exactly what you did," he snarled, his chest heaving with exertion. "You've always had a way of bewitching me, like some kind of witch. Driving me mad with desire, invading my thoughts. How dare you do this to me?"

You froze at his accusations, the weight of his words sinking in as you struggled to comprehend his anger. "I-I never meant to manipulate you," you stammered, your voice trembling with emotion. "Richard, I would never—"

"No more," Turpin growled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to maintain control. "You will no longer have power over me! I won't allow it!"

His words sent a chill down your spine, the intensity of his gaze piercing through you like a dagger. Turpin's chest heaved with each labored breath, his hands trembling as he continued to unravel before your eyes.

"You'll cheat on me, just like Johanna did," Turpin spat out, his voice thick with accusation. "I know you will. Just like all the other women before her."

As he tugged at the collar of his suit, his face flushed with exertion, you reached out to him with a mixture of concern and desperation. "Richard, please," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "You're not thinking clearly. I'm here for you. I love you."

But Turpin's eyes blazed with a fierce determination, his words a bitter retort to your protestations. "You don't love me," he insisted, his voice raw with pain. "You're only with me because I send money to your family. You're using me!"

The truth of his words hung heavy in the air, weighing down on you like a leaden weight. You hung your head in shame, unable to deny the validity of his accusations. But even as guilt gnawed at your conscience, you couldn't bear to see Turpin in such a state of distress.

As he struggled to breathe, his chest heaving with each ragged gasp, you reached out and took one of his trembling hands in yours. Placing it gently on your swollen belly, you urged him to feel the kick of the baby growing inside you, the son you both already loved before he even entered the world.

"Feel him, Richard," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "He's our son. Our love created him. Please, believe in us."

Turpin's breath caught in his throat as he felt the tiny flutter of movement beneath his hand, his eyes widening in wonder and disbelief. For a moment, the turmoil raging within him seemed to ebb away, replaced by a sense of awe and wonder at the miracle of life growing inside you.

As you feel the baby kick beneath Turpin's hand, you lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes pleading for understanding. "Richard," you whisper softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "You were the one who chose me. You came to my house, offering to help my family in exchange for my hand in marriage. You could have chosen a Lady, someone of noble birth, but you chose me, a simple peasant girl. I didn't even know you, and you didn't give me a chance to meet you. You just came, slept with me, and were ready to leave."

Turpin's eyes flicker with a mixture of anger and shame, his jaw clenched tight as he struggles to maintain his composure. "Don't question my decisions," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You belong to me, and you will do as I say."

But you refuse to back down, your resolve firm as you continue to speak your mind. "How do you expect me to love you if you don't give me a chance?" you challenge, your voice rising with each word. "You treat me like a possession, a means to an end. But I'm a person, Richard. I have feelings, desires, dreams of my own."

Turpin's nostrils flare with barely contained rage, his brow furrowing in frustration as he struggles to find the right words. "I don't need you to love me," he spits out, his voice dripping with disdain. "I need you to obey me, to fulfill your duties as my wife and the mother of my children."

But you refuse to be silenced, your voice ringing out clear and strong despite the fear that churns in your stomach. "I'm trying, Richard," you insist, tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm trying to make this work. But it's hard when you treat me like nothing more than a servant, a vessel for your desires."

Turpin's gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing into slits as he glares at you with contempt. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" he sneers, his voice dripping with malice. "Thinking you can manipulate me with your tears and your words. But it won't work. I see through your lies, your deceit."

You flinch at his harsh words, the sting of his accusations cutting deep into your heart. "I'm not trying to manipulate you," you protest, your voice trembling with hurt. "I just want us to be happy, to find a way to love each other despite our differences."

But Turpin scoffs at your words, his laughter cold and mocking as he dismisses your pleas. "Love is for fools," he declares, his voice laced with bitterness. "I have no need for such sentimentality. All I need is obedience, and you will give it to me, one way or another."

With a heavy heart, you realize that there's no reaching Turpin, no breaking through the walls he's built around his heart. He's a cruel and callous man, incapable of understanding the depth of your feelings or the pain he inflicts upon you.

But as you look down at your swollen belly, feeling the tiny life growing inside you, you know that you can't give up hope. You may be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who sees you as nothing more than a pawn in his game, but you refuse to let him crush your spirit.

With a newfound determination, you square your shoulders and meet Turpin's gaze head-on, refusing to cower in the face of his cruelty. "I won't give up on us, Richard," you declare, your voice steady despite the trembling of your limbs. "I'll fight for our marriage, for our family, even if it means standing up to you."

As you meet Turpin's gaze with determination, his expression shifts from anger to surprise, his brown eyes widening in disbelief. For a moment, his harsh facade crumbles, revealing a glimmer of hope and uncertainty beneath the layers of cruelty and disdain.

Feeling a surge of compassion welling up inside you, you reach out and gently cup Turpin's face in your hands, your touch tender and reassuring. "Richard," you whisper softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I'm here. I'll always be here, between heaven and earth, beside you."

Turpin's breath catches in his throat at your words, his expression torn between disbelief and longing. "But why?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "After everything I've done to you, why would you stay?"

You gaze into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface of his hardened exterior. "Because I want to love you, Richard," you confess, your voice filled with sincerity. "But I need you to love me too. For us, for our future baby. I know you have the capacity for goodness, for kindness. I've seen it, glimpses of it, like when you smiled during our dance earlier. It was beautiful, Richard."

Turpin's brow furrows in confusion, his lips parting in denial. "I didn't smile," he insists, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I couldn't have."

But you shake your head, your resolve unwavering. "You did, Richard," you insist, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "And it was beautiful. I believe in the goodness that lies within you, hidden beneath the cruelty and harshness. I want that Turpin, the one I know you can be."

Turpin's gaze searches yours, his eyes filled with doubt and hesitation. "But what if that Turpin doesn't exist?" he questions, his voice laced with uncertainty. "What if I'm incapable of being the man you want me to be? Will you abandon me like the others before you?"

Your heart aches at the fear and insecurity reflected in Turpin's eyes, the weight of his past sins bearing down on him like a heavy burden. But you refuse to give up on him, on the possibility of a better future for both of you.

"I won't abandon you, Richard," you vow, your voice steady and unwavering. "I'll stand by you, through thick and thin. But you have to meet me halfway. You have to be willing to change, to let go of the darkness that consumes you. I know it won't be easy, but I believe in us, in our ability to overcome any obstacle together."

Turpin's gaze softens at your words, a flicker of hope sparking in his eyes. "Do you really believe that?" he whispers, his voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of the carriage.

With a nod, you reach out and take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "With all my heart, Richard," you reply, your voice filled with conviction. "I believe in you, in us. And I'll do everything in my power to help you find the happiness and redemption you deserve."

Turpin's lips quirk into a hesitant smile, a glimmer of warmth lighting up his features for the first time in what feels like an eternity. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "For believing in me, for giving me hope. I'll try, I promise."

With a sense of renewed optimism, you lean in and press your lips against Turpin's in a tender, loving kiss. In that moment, as the carriage rattles on towards an uncertain future, you cling to the hope that love can conquer even the darkest of shadows, that redemption is possible for even the most lost and broken souls. And with Turpin by your side, you're determined to prove that anything is possible, as long as you have each other.

As Richard Turpin approached the bed, wearing his pajamas that resembled more of a nightgown, he couldn't help but feel a pang of irritation as he noticed you engrossed in writing something in the notebook. With a slight frown, he slid under the covers beside you, resting his head on your shoulder, his gaze drifting to the pages of the notebook.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, his baritone voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

You looked up from the notebook, a small furrow forming between your brows as you met Turpin's gaze. "Oh, Richard, I'm just trying to come up with some baby names," you replied, your voice warm and affectionate. "You know, for our future son. There's only a month left until the birth, so I thought it would be a good idea to start brainstorming."

Turpin lifted his head from your shoulder, his expression softening as he realized the innocence of your actions. "Baby names?" he repeated, his voice laced with surprise. "For our son?"

You nodded eagerly, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yes, Richard," you confirmed, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "I want us to be prepared when our little one arrives. I've been jotting down some ideas, starting with boys' names first. Do you want to help me brainstorm?"

But before you could delve further into the discussion, Turpin interrupted, his tone dismissive. "There's no need for that," he declared, his voice firm. "I've already chosen the baby's name. Bartholomew for a boy, Belladonna for a girl."

You looked at him in shock, the revelation taking you by surprise. "But Bartholomew?" you exclaimed, disbelief evident in your voice. "And Belladonna for a girl? Richard, those names are... unconventional, to say the least."

Turpin's expression hardened, his jaw set in determination. "It doesn't matter," he retorted, his tone final. "The names have been decided. The heir will take the name I deem best."

You protested, wanting to have a say in the matter, but Turpin's stubbornness left no room for negotiation. Frustration bubbled up inside you, an irresistible urge to lash out at him rising to the surface.

As Turpin leaned over to blow out the candle at the head of the bed, you seized the opportunity to release some of your pent-up frustration. With a swift movement, you kicked out, catching Turpin off guard and sending him tumbling out of bed with a thump.

He shouted in surprise as he fell out of bed with a thud, his sleeping hat tumbling off his head in the commotion. Turpin's expression was a mixture of shock and indignation as he looked up at you, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. But before he could voice his accusation, you burst into laughter at the sight of him sprawled on the floor.

The sound of your laughter seemed to only fuel Turpin's anger as he scrambled to his feet, his pajamas rumpled and his hair in disarray. "What in blazes was that for?" he demanded, his voice laced with irritation.

You struggled to contain your laughter as you watched Turpin's indignant expression, the sight of him so flustered and disheveled only making you laugh harder. With a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you couldn't resist teasing him further. "Oh, Richard, you should have seen the look on your face," you chuckled, unable to stifle your amusement.

Turpin's anger flared at your laughter, his nostrils flaring with barely contained rage. "This is no laughing matter," he growled, advancing towards you with purpose in his stride. "You pushed me out of bed, and now you're mocking me? How dare you?"

But you couldn't stop giggling, the absurdity of the situation only making it harder to control your mirth. Turpin seethed with rage as he grabbed the bed sheets on either side of your head, his face mere inches from yours as he glared down at you.

"How dare you laugh at me?" he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "You think it's funny to push me out of bed and then mock me for it?"

Despite his anger, you couldn't help but find Turpin's indignation amusing. With a playful grin, you reached up and planted a kiss on his lips, cutting off his tirade mid-sentence. Then, with a giggle, you planted another kiss on his nose, unable to resist teasing him further.

Turpin's anger seemed to dissipate at the unexpected display of affection, his expression softening as he gazed down at you with a mixture of irritation and reluctant amusement. "You're impossible," he muttered, though there was a hint of affection in his voice.

You grinned up at him, knowing exactly how to dispel his anger. "I know," you replied cheekily, reaching up to ruffle his hair playfully. "But you love me anyway."

Turpin tried to maintain his facade of indignation, but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. "I suppose I have no choice," he grumbled, though there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

With a satisfied smirk, you settled back against the pillows, feeling victorious in your ability to defuse the situation. But as Turpin shifted slightly, you noticed a pained expression flicker across his face, his hand moving to rub his hip gingerly.

Concern washed over you as you realized the extent of Turpin's discomfort. "Are you alright?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern. "Did I hurt you when I pushed you out of bed?"

Turpin hesitated for a moment, his expression guarded as he weighed his response. "My hip is a bit sore," he admitted reluctantly, his pride keeping him from admitting the full extent of his discomfort as he grew angry again, the pain fueling his anger towards you.

Instantly, your guilt intensified at the realization that you had caused Turpin pain. With a sympathetic sigh, you reached out to stroke his side soothingly, your touch gentle and reassuring. "I'm so sorry, Richard," you apologized sincerely, your voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

As Turpin moved away from you and extinguished the candle beside the bed, you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You hadn't meant to hurt him, only to express your frustration at being sidelined in such an important decision. With a heavy sigh, you reached out to him, pleading for him to talk to you.

"Richard, please," you implored, your voice soft and pleading. "Let's talk about this. I didn't mean to upset you. I just... I wanted to have a say in our baby's name."

But Turpin remained silent, his back turned to you as he crawled under the covers, pulling them up to his chin. You felt a sense of helplessness wash over you as you realized that Turpin wasn't going to engage with you. With a heavy heart, you decided to give him space, promising yourself that you would try to talk to him again tomorrow.

The next morning, as you entered the breakfast room, you were greeted by the sight of Turpin limping in, his expression unreadable. Guilt gnawed at your conscience as you watched him, knowing that his discomfort was a result of your actions the night before.

"Richard, please," you began, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "I'm sorry about last night. Can we talk?"

But Turpin ignored you, his attention focused on his morning coffee as he took a sip, his expression stoic. The tension in the room was palpable as you struggled to find the right words to break through to him.

Just then, Beadle entered the room, ready to accompany Turpin to court as usual. But Turpin surprised both of you with his next words.

"Beadle, cancel all of my appointments for today," Turpin instructed, his voice firm. "I'll be staying home."

Beadle nodded in acknowledgment before leaving the room, leaving you alone with Turpin once again. Seizing the opportunity, you tried once more to reach out to him, desperate to make amends for your actions.

"Richard, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know I messed up, but I'm truly sorry. Can we talk about this?"

But Turpin remained resolute, his silence a barrier between you. With a heavy heart, you realized that you would have to give him space, even if it tore you apart inside.

As the morning wore on, the guilt continued to weigh heavily on your shoulders, driving you to take action. With a deep breath, you made your way to Turpin's office, knowing that you were risking his wrath by intruding without permission.

"Richard, please," you said softly as you entered the room, your voice hesitant. "I need to talk to you."

But Turpin's response was immediate and harsh. "Get out," he barked, his voice cold and commanding. "I have no desire to speak with you."

Refusing to back down, you stepped further into the room, your resolve unwavering. "Richard, we need to talk about what happened," you insisted, your voice tinged with desperation.

But Turpin was having none of it. With a swift movement, he crossed the room and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you towards him until you were pressed against the edge of his desk. You gripped the edge tightly, careful not to put pressure on your pregnant belly as Turpin hiked up your skirts and pulled down your panties.

"What are you doing?" you protested, your voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

Turpin's expression was hard and unforgiving as he delivered a sharp smack to your exposed backside, the sting of his hand against your skin sending shockwaves of pain and arousal coursing through your body.

"You need to learn your place," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You're mine, and you'll obey me, no matter what."

Despite the pain, you found yourself submitting to Turpin's dominance, knowing that it was what he needed in that moment. As he continued to administer his punishment, you gritted your teeth and bore it, silently vowing to make things right between you once the storm had passed.

Turpin continued to administer his punishment, his hand landing with precise and stinging blows against your exposed skin, he couldn't help but notice the way your body responded to his touch. Despite the pain, you found yourself growing increasingly aroused, the sting of each slap sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Turpin's expression darkened with a mixture of frustration and desire as he observed your reaction, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You like this, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You're enjoying being punished like the little slut you are."

You gasped in surprise at his words, the heat rising to your cheeks as you realized the truth of his accusation. Despite your embarrassment, you couldn't deny the undeniable thrill that coursed through your body at his dominance, the ache between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

Turpin's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he continued to rain down blows upon your backside, relishing in the way you squirmed and moaned beneath him. But as he felt your arousal building, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of uncertainty gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

With a sudden, abrupt movement, Turpin ceased his assault, his hand coming to rest against your throbbing flesh as he observed the slick evidence of your arousal. He leaned in close, his hooked nose brushing against your skin as he inhaled deeply, his baritone voice dripping with contempt.

"You shouldn't be enjoying this," he sneered, his voice a low, menacing growl. "You're supposed to be repenting for your disobedience, not reveling in it like some kind of whore."

You whimpered in embarrassment at his harsh words, the shame of your arousal washing over you in waves. "I-I'm sorry, Richard," you stammered, your voice trembling with humiliation. "I didn't mean to... I'll do better, I promise."

But Turpin paid no heed to your apologies, his gaze burning with a primal hunger as he reached down between your legs, his fingers trailing teasingly along your soaked folds. "It's too late for apologies," he declared, his voice thick with desire. "You've been a naughty girl, and now you need to be punished properly."

With a swift movement, Turpin flipped you over onto your back, his hands roughly spreading your thighs apart as he positioned himself between them. You gasped in anticipation as you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.

Turpin's lips curled into a cruel smirk as he met your gaze, his brown eyes smoldering with desire. "You're mine to use as I please," he growled, his voice rough with need. "And tonight, I'm going to fuck you until you're begging for mercy."

With a primal grunt, Turpin surged forward, burying himself deep inside you with a single, powerful thrust. You cried out in pleasure as he filled you completely, the sensation of him stretching you to your limits sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

Turpin's movements were rough and urgent, his hips slamming against yours with a relentless rhythm that left you breathless and desperate for more. With each thrust, he claimed you as his own, marking you with the heat of his desire as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy again and again.

As you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of his touch, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the primal intensity of the moment. Turpin's dominance was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter and brighter with each passing second.

With a fierce determination, you wrapped your legs around Turpin's waist, pulling him closer as you urged him to take you harder and faster. His grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chased his own release with single-minded determination.

As Turpin continued to thrust into you with a primal intensity, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of blissful release. Your body arched against his, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as you rode the wave of ecstasy building within you.

"You're going to make me cum, Richard," you moaned, your voice thick with need as you felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you. But just as you were on the brink of climax, Turpin abruptly withdrew, leaving you gasping in confusion as he held himself back, leaving only the blunt tip of his cock nestled inside you.

Confusion clouded your senses as you looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of explanation. But Turpin's expression was unreadable, his features twisted into a mask of determination as he began to stroke himself with the tip of his cock still buried deep within you.

Realization dawned upon you in an instant, your heart sinking as you understood what Turpin intended. "Please," you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. "Don't do this. Let me cum, please."

But Turpin merely shook his head, his grip on his throbbing member tightening as he denied you the release you so desperately craved. "You don't deserve it," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You hurt me, and now you must suffer the consequences."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you pleaded with him, your voice cracking with emotion. "I apologized," you protested, the ache in your heart matching the throbbing pain in your neglected core. "I'm sorry, Richard. Please, don't punish me like this."

But Turpin remained unmoved, his resolve unyielding as he continued to stroke himself with cruel determination. "Your apology means nothing," he declared, his voice dripping with disdain. "You hurt me, and now you must pay the price."

With a shuddering breath, you closed your eyes and resigned yourself to your fate, knowing that there was no arguing with Turpin when he was in such a merciless mood. The ache between your legs only intensified as you felt his cock twitching inside you, his impending release a cruel reminder of what you were being denied.

As Turpin continued masturbating with just the tip of his cock inside you, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and arousal washing over you. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, but the denial of release only served to fuel the fire burning within you.

After a few more torturous pumps, Turpin finally reached his climax, his hot seed spurting deep inside you. You gasped as you felt him fill you completely, his curse mingling with your own whimper of frustration as he watched his cum leak out of you.

With a cruel smirk, Turpin made sure that you took every drop of him before pulling away from you, his gaze cold and indifferent as he took you off his desk and delivered a sharp smack to your ass. You whimpered at the sting of his hand against your skin, but you knew better than to protest as he sent you away with a dismissive gesture.

As you scurried out of the room, your cheeks burning with humiliation, Turpin shoved himself back into his pants, his expression unreadable as he settled back into his chair. Despite the lingering pain in his hip, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having asserted his dominance over you once again.

With a grimace, Turpin leaned back in his chair, his baritone voice echoing through the empty room as he allowed himself a moment of contentment. Despite the ache in his hip, he knew that his position of power remained unchallenged, and that was all that mattered to him in the end.

Hours later, you entered Turpin's office once again, the air thick with tension, you couldn't help but notice the way he stiffened at the sight of you. Ignoring his icy glare, you approached him with purpose, the jar of healing ointment clutched tightly in your hand.

"Richard," you began, your voice soft and tentative. "I brought some healing ointment for your hip. I thought it might help ease the pain."

Turpin's expression softened imperceptibly at your gesture, though he still regarded you with a mixture of skepticism and resignation. "You didn't have to do that," he muttered gruffly, his baritone voice tinged with reluctance.

But you refused to be deterred, determined to offer him some small measure of comfort despite his stubbornness. With steady hands, you unscrewed the lid of the jar and dipped your fingers into the cool, soothing ointment, scooping up a generous amount before reaching out to him.

"Please, Richard," you implored, your voice tinged with sincerity. "Let me help you. I know things have been difficult between us, but I want to make things right."

Turpin hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the jar of ointment in your hand. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he relented, nodding his consent. "Fine," he grumbled, his tone begrudging. "But make it quick."

With a small smile of gratitude, you stepped closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached out to apply the ointment to his hip. Turpin tensed at your touch, but he didn't pull away, allowing you to gently massage the soothing balm into his sore muscles.

As you worked, you couldn't help but steal glances at Turpin's face, noting the subtle lines of pain etched into his features. Despite his stoic facade, you could see the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface, a reminder that even the strongest among us are not immune to pain.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you last night. I just... I felt so frustrated, so powerless."

Turpin remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the wall opposite him as he processed your words. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and hesitant. "I know," he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. "And I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I let my pride get the best of me."

Your heart swelled with a mixture of relief and gratitude at his admission, knowing that it took a great deal of strength for Turpin to admit fault. With a gentle smile, you continued to apply the ointment, your touch growing more tender as you worked to ease his pain.

When you finished, you withdrew your hand and capped the jar of ointment, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having provided Turpin with some measure of relief. But as you turned to leave, Turpin reached out and grasped your hand, his touch warm and reassuring.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

You met his gaze, your eyes locking in a moment of shared understanding. "You're welcome," you replied softly, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "And Richard, I meant what I said earlier. We can work through this together. I know we can."

Turpin's expression softened at your words, a flicker of warmth lighting up his eyes as he squeezed your hand gently. "I believe you," he said, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "And I promise to do better, to be better for you."

With a nod of appreciation, you squeezed his hand in return, a silent pledge passing between you. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, you knew that as long as you faced them together, there was nothing you couldn't overcome.

As you left Turpin's office, a sense of hope bloomed within you, a renewed determination to build a future together, one built on trust, understanding, and love. You knew it would take some time, but the two of you would learn to love each other because the love was already there, you would just have to learn to show it.

[lunion]

If there's a bit of brilliance in Komi san and that I'll never be able to praise enough is how well the main theme of the story is well reflected on its characters and its progression.

Komi-san is a romance slice of life story and the main conflict revolves around the hardships of communication. As such, we have the titular character, Komi-san, whose main challenge is to overcome her anxiety and her communication disorder to live her life as she wishes. She makes friends along the way, but here's an interesting detail: Every other character in the story, apart from a single one, has the same main flaw.

They are so self absorbed by their own stories (be it their weird preferences, their life story, their hobbies or their idea of how things should be) that they cannot communicate with Komi-san and keep making wild presumptions. While they're still her friends, there's a limit to how well she can feel comfortable with them due to them just assuming things for her.

Meanwhile, Tadano is DEFINED by his ability to sense how others are feeling and he uses that ability to avoid problems and as the story starts, to help komi feel more comfortable with herself and improve herself.

He is, quite literally, the only character (aside from Komi's family) who doesn't incorrectly presumes things about her and instead lets her speak her mind and express herself, because instead of indulging in his own fantasies (like everyone else does), he actually tries to listen to her.

And it works!

No wonder she's already crushing on him as early as chapter 60.

He's also crushing on her, but some bad experiences led him to not being able to believe she'll find him interesting, which ends up helping Komi's arc for the following reason:

If they want to develop their relationship, Komi will have to stop relying on Tadano's capacity to guess her feelings and she'll have to express her feelings herself.

The story is about communication and while Tadano can help Komi surpass many hurdles, if she wants to bridge that gap between her and him, she'll have to overcome that herself in order to get across Tadano, who is constantly in soft denial about the possibility of being liked by Komi.