#and when dream talked about things like trying desperately to reach out and getting nothing + the confusion of being friends one day and

[calamitydaze]

okay i’m gonna go to sleep cause it’s late iiiiii hope i don’t wake up to nuclear bombs dropped on us

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 31st. tom riddle — breeding kink, raw sex.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: tom has a dream about fucking you raw, and decides it’s time he ditches the self-restraint.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, needy tom riddle, fingering, slight begging, desperate sex, PIV, creampie, incoherent babbling/dirty talk, breeding kink, literally the most feralized and needy and pathetic tom i have ever written .

You wake up to the feeling of Tom at your back, sometime within the early hours of the morning. 

Not an unusual occurrence, per say, but you're vaguely aware of the fact that the desperate way he's gripping your waist and pressing against you isn't just par for the course—something's off—and you don't get to wonder or question what exactly it is because within a second he's pressing his lips to your neck, murmuring your name, and stealing your cognitive function before you even get the chance to wake. 

"What—" you manage to get out, just as his hand slides up the front of your shirt and his lips continue mouthing against your neck. 

"Hm?" He murmurs, as if he's doing nothing unusual, as if you aren't completely aware he's pressed up against you like an animal in heat.

"Are you," you're struggling to get the words out as his lips graze the spot on the nape of your neck that makes your breath catch. "Okay?" 

He stills for a moment at that, before he makes an amused sound in the back of his throat, as if the question is almost funny somehow. "Should I not be?"

"I just...mmf—" a whole body shudder goes through you as his hand reaches the underside of your breasts; palming, squeezing. "You seem—different." 

"Different," he echos against your neck with a smile. "In what way?"

"Uh, needier—oh," his hand slips from your chest to the front of your pyjama pants, grinding his erection against your ass. "What's—gotten into you—"

"You, of course," he husks, and the fact that he can be cocky while he's practically pinning you to his chest is the perfect bloody summary of him. "Who else?"

"Well—I mean—" the words leave your lips in a hissing moan as his hand, that beautiful, steady hand—slips under your waistband and wastes no time in finding your clit, long fingers swirling tight little circles against it. "What—ohhh—" 

"You do know that you're asking way too many questions," he whispers, teeth nipping at your ear lobe as he runs his index and middle fingers down your slit. "I'd rather you be moaning my name as opposed to doing a million cross-examinations on my behaviour."

Well, that certainly shuts you up, at least on the verbal side of things—because the gasp that leaves your lips is not entirely something you can control, considering the fact that you're suddenly very aware of just how badly he seems to need you right now.

"I think that was progress," he croons between open-mouthed kisses, absentmindedly making you shiver and jerk as his fingers resume rubbing and massaging your clit. "Good girl." 

You whimper faintly at that, and you wish you could hate the way you react to the praise on principle only—but that's kind of hard to do when it's him, and he's doing the praising in the first place. So instead, you just try to keep any kind of higher brain function intact, regardless of it being a losing battle at this point.

"I just need you," he practically groans, and it's the strangest thing to hear him say when he's usually just fine being all smug and self-composed. "I need to feel you, now."

It's the closest thing to him pleading that you think you've ever heard, and the guttural moan you let out as he slips one of those long slender fingers inside your embarrassingly slick cunt is the closest thing to feral as you're sure you've ever been. 

"Need," you whimper as your hips jerk, and it takes an embarrassing amount of time to realize that it's a sound you've made and not some kind of vocal fry of his. "Need me, why?" 

He doesn't answer right away, not in words—just sucks your earlobe into his mouth in a way that makes you want to scream. "You're not usually this difficult." 

"M'tired." The argument is weak, at best, but you're not exactly in any kind of frame of mind to try and make sense of the situation. "And you're—intense—"

"Yes," he murmurs, that smug tone still needling your eternal irritation. "And if you must know, it really is because of you. I had a dream about you." He punctuates the sentence by slipping a second finger into your slick heat, and you barely manage to keep a whimpering moan inside that you just know he would love to hear. "Fuck. It was a beautiful dream." 

He bites at your ear again, and it occurs to you that the desperate edge to his voice might have something to do with just how good the dream of you felt—or how badly he'd clearly wanted it to be real. 

You suddenly need to hear every goddamn detail. 

"Felt you for once, without protection," he tells you, as if reading your mind, and you whimper at what you're pretty sure is a pretty profound confession. "Even better than I thought you'd feel—fuck—"

"You're not the only one who's thought about that," you manage to get out, and you're not even being coy about it—at this point you're simply trying to deal with the realization that Tom Riddle having a wet dream about you is apparently enough to turn you into a pathetic, drooling mess. "But you are the one who's always been insistent on using condoms."

Oh, the low growl he lets out at that is a dangerous sound—it's low and guttural and it makes you realize that there's a very real chance this is going to go somewhere you might have trouble walking away from. 

"Yes, well," he pauses, and you can practically feel the fire in his eyes. "I'm just realizing I might have been a bit of a fool."

"You, admitting you're a fool?" You somehow give a half-assed scoff at the idea as you try to hold onto your sanity. "I think hell just froze over."

He laughs at that—actually laughs, and it does strange things to your insides to have it directed at you. 

"Maybe I'm just in a very specific sort of mood." 

"Oh?" You manage to raise an eyebrow. "And what kind of mood is that?"

"The kind of mood," he says, in an almost growl that you're trying to interpret through the haze of trying not to moan, "where I throw all reason out the window. The kind of mood where I forget all self-restraint."

"That's a dangerous thing, coming from you," you choke out, because that is true, but you're only half-thinking through your words before you say them, half your brain stolen by the curling of his fingers inside you, massaging your slick walls. "You don't usually—"

"Never," he cuts you off, like he's fully aware of just how different this is and trying not to admit it. "Until you."

Well, you don't know what to say to that—because you know him, and you know he doesn't usually lose himself in things like this, not like he's apparently doing now. 

"Oh?" You gasp, as his thumb sweeps over your clit, making your eyes roll. "So I've made you reckless." 

His answer comes in the form of a low, grunting sound of agreement, his grip on your body shifting a bit as he pulls you back tighter to his chest, rutting his erection against your ass. 

"You've done more than that," he murmurs with a sigh right in your ear as his slick fingers slip out to draw wet little circles against your clit. "Fuck it. I need to feel you—please, let me fuck you right. No protection."

Oh sweet Mother of Merlin.

There were a lot of words in that sentence that you were fucking sure, just a minute ago, were entirely out of the question for him. Not a soul on god’s green earth could have prepared you for the feeling that utterance just invoked—and you can't help but let out a helpless, wanton groan in response—his fingers driving you directly to the very edge of climax—

"I need a word out of you," he grits, and you realize then that you're both at the mercy of something he can only half control as he ruts against you again, his fingers slowing as if he's edging you— "please." 

You wish you could give him something teasing, snarky, maybe even witty. Something to needle him for just how beside himself he is, something to call him out for the feralized broken thing he's seemingly been reduced to. 

But you can't, because your climax is right there, and he's moving his fingers too slow, denying you of it on purpose—

"Yes," you whimper, the word like an answer to a prayer you hadn't even known you were praying for, and you realize somewhere behind your consciousness that you're desperate and aching inside for so many reasons, all of them because of him. "Please, fuck. Please, do it—I need—to cum—"

And at those words—that plea—the need in them, there's no stopping the sound that tears itself out of his throat, and before you can even think he's jerking your pyjama pants off your thighs—

"Wanna feel it—" he hisses as he frees himself next, tugging you against him and lifting your thigh toward your head. "Need to feel you cum when I'm inside you."

Oh, and at this point you're begging that you'll survive this. 

You're at his mercy, as you've been before, but in a completely different way—one that seems to be fueled by whatever animalistic thing is driving him today, and you're left with no defense besides the knowledge that he's doing this because if he didn't, he may just lose his goddamn mind. 

And for as much trouble you generally get into by enjoying him being cocky and in control of the narrative, this—this is something you've never once experienced. Tom on the edge of falling completely apart in his need for you, desperation and need taking a front seat to his usual restraint and control.

He's between your thighs before you can blink, and then he's pushing in. "Oh, fuck."

It's a sensation that's completely different when there's no barrier between you, and you're pretty sure that if it wasn't for the fact that the animal in his chest has risen to the surface, taking you by the throat, you would have gasped out in a moan so loud it woke the entire fucking country—but somehow, someway, you manage to tame it. 

His face buries in the crook of your shoulder, and it's a sound of guttural relief as his breath goes shaky and unsteady right in your ear.

"Feels so good," he whispers as he sinks in—as his thick, throbbing dick disappears into your greedy cunt. "Too good."

'Too good' feels like the exact wrong thing to say right now, at least in your mind, because you're pretty sure you'll take the fact that this feels so good you're scared it might kill you to your grave. 

"Oh my god." You manage to get out the words through the haze, and you're barely even sure what you're saying, your head thrown back against his shoulder, his arm coming up to wrap around your throat. "Oh my god, Tom." 

He responds with a shaky curse of your name, and you’re absolutely certain somewhere in you is exploding, something in your gut is coiled so tight it's like holding in the biggest possible secret of the world that you're desperate to scream to someone—

"So wet. So tight. I'm never starving myself of this again." It's a confession that steals your breath, and you struggle to keep breathing, struggling with trying to keep your world from spinning away as he starts to make shallow, languid thrusts into you, free hand slipping down to your clit. "Let me feel it. Let me feel it all."

You keen. "Fuck! Please."

It's the only word you can manage in a half-hysterical moan, your hand grabbing onto the one he's wrapped around your throat as if he's saving you from certain destruction, as if he's the only lifeline you'll ever find—and maybe, you think that's okay, because you're so used by him in so many ways that right now you don't even want another.

"T-tom—" his fingers swirl your clit in perfect time with his thrusts and you're clenching so tight your entire body is almost stiff. "Tommmm—I'm fucking—"

His teeth bite down on your shoulder with such ferocity you'd think he wanted it to bleed, and you're not even sure it's intentional as his body tenses against yours, tugging you back like he's trying to crush you into his chest. 

"Yes. Yes," he hisses again, and it's broken. "Please give it to me."

'Please give it to me' are the best five words you've ever heard from his mouth, you think with the quarter of your brain that’s still functioning—and it's like you've been waiting for permission without realizing it, because you feel fireworks going off behind your eyes a moment later. 

"Oh fuckk! Yes, yes, oh!" 

You cry out, so loud you'd be nervous about someone hearing you if the pleasure wracking your body wasn't so powerful you're pretty sure you're going to feel it all the way into next week—and there's a sound like something coming undone against your skin as his teeth dig deeper into your shoulder, a sound that's like a low, guttural moan of your name before he shutters something in half-broken words you're not even sure he's meant to.

"Oh yes—god, you're tight—fuck—"

You can't answer him, but it doesn't matter, because a moment later it's all painfully forgotten with the way he lets out another moan against your shoulder—

"That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it. Just like that."

It's the pet name that does something to your insides, twisting them up in a way you can't quite parse through the haze, but it's enough in the moment to make tears prick unbidden at the corner of your eyes as he jerks against you, his breaths coming in shaky, heavy pants against your skin as his own climax draw closer, and there's no way this wasn't something you both needed that neither knew how to ask for. 

"Tom," you manage to whimper, and it sounds like a prayer of your own creation. "Tom—"

It's like he needed to hear you moan his name like that in a way that's primal—because in that moment his hand moves from your neck to your hair, and he clenches his fist into it, pulling, and it's enough to make a shattered moan force its way out of your chest and up to your throat. 

"M'close. Mmm. So fucking close," he hisses against your skin. "M'gonna—fill this tight cunt."

And god, it should be alarming, because you've always been careful, careful, careful—because you've always known the risks, the consequences, but right now you're having a hard time remembering why you ever thought it was a terrible, terrible idea to let him do this. 

"You're—Tom—you—"

"I know,” he groans, and it's like a plea, as if you're saying something out loud that he doesn't want to admit he knows— "just take it. Let me—fucking breed you."

There's a moment where your chest seems to constrict violently at that, where you're almost sure you must have a heart condition because it feels like skipping a beat is the under-explanation of the century, but it's gone as quickly as it came, and god if it wasn't as profoundly hot as you know it shouldn't be. 

“Jesus—Tom—“ there're a lot of things you know you should be saying, things you'd planned to say—or not do, as the case may be—but the only thing that leaves your lips at this moment is, “please."

And he doesn't know if it's a plea or a prayer, but either way it’s all the same because there’s no stopping the sound that leaves his lips as your answer sinks into his brain, as the meaning sinks into his bones: the low, guttural, primal sound of a man losing pieces of himself in something that he doesn't care to stop. 

"Oh—" he chokes out. "Oh god—"

It's like it's taking him like he wants it to, stealing him up in a way that both makes him feel both more whole than he's ever been and like he's lost more of himself than he can possibly cope with at every other moment all at once, and you're pretty damn sure you'll be the only thing that survives it, in the end— 

And then, he explodes. "Fuck—"

It's a choked-off sound that tears violently into the room without his permission, one that claws its way out of his chest and up his throat in a way that feels simultaneously like falling into and being pushed off of a cliff straight into oblivion—

"Mmm yes. Yes. Take it—" he's twitching inside you, hips trembling as he pumps his release deep within your walls. "Fuck. Fuck yes." 

There's a million and one responses to everything he's done and said in the last few minutes that dance on the tip of your tongue, but you're not entirely sure you have the mental capacity to do more than manage a shaky whimper at this point, and all you're even remotely sure you can do is respond to his own moans and gasps with ones of your own. 

"Tom," you whimper as he finally slows. As you both work to catch your breath. "I wish you had dreams like that more often."

He just laughs, a breathless, unsteady thing.

"That's my fucking girl." He mutters. "All mine."

[munsonsmixtapes]

Touch Me

virgin!Eddie x fem!reader

summary: you get your nipples pierced and your best friend, Eddie is the first one you want to show

cw: MDNI (18+) nipple play, thigh riding

part two part three

You hadn't told Eddie that you were going to do it. He knew that you had been wanting to get your nipples pierced, talked about it at length, in fact. you thought it would make you look hot and Eddie couldn't have agreed more. Not that he would have ever told you that. How attracted to you he was and how often he got himself off at the thought of you, piercings included.

So when you showed up on his doorstep with your piercings peeking through after having gotten them done a few weeks ago, he was trying to keep himself from getting hard. He was trying to think about literally anything else, but all that was happening in his mind was flashes of him with his mouth on your tits, toying with your piercings as your back arched underneath him.

Little did he know that you had been waiting for them to heal a bit because you were thinking the same thing. You were going to take a leap and ask him if he wanted to have his way with them. Ever since you had that dream the night before your appointment, you couldn't get the idea out of your head. And now you had to make it a reality before you drove yourself crazy.

"So you finally went and did it," Eddie pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Sure did," you nodded, trying to arch your back subtly as you sat down on his bed. "Do you...wanna see them?" He could clearly see them through your very thin, very white shirt, seeing that you hadn't even put on a bra.

"Fuck yes." his words came out like a whimper and you tried your best to not think about how hot it sounded. You pulled off your shirt with ease, almost as if you had shown your best friend your tits all the time, which you didn't. Eddie definitely would have remembered that.

You let the shirt fall to the floor and pat the spot next to you, inviting Eddie to sit there. He was quick to sit next to you, his gaze on your tits the whole time. He hadn't seen many pairs (at least, not in real life) but he had to admit that yours were the best. And seeing the piercing going straight through your very hard nipples was just the cherry on top.

"You can touch them if you want." Eddie just blinked at you, unsure if he had heard you right. "Go ahead." You pressed your palms into the mattress, leaning back, giving Eddie perfect opportunity to touch you if he wanted to.

His hand reached out to one of them and he cupped it, not entirely sure what to do. He hadn't touched a woman period, let alone like this. But he was glad it was right, knowing that you would help him and be nothing but sweet while you did it.

"Here," you took his hand away from your tit and fixed it before putting it back so that his thumb was pressed against your nipple and the rest of his fingers were resting along the side, curling against your back.

His thumb moved back and forth along the piercing and you shut your eyes, feeling pleasure course through you. An involuntary moan fell from your lips and Eddie continued, seeing that you were enjoying it.

"That feels good," you told him. "Keep going." Eddie followed instructions, pressing even more and you moaned again, sounding even better than you did in his dreams.

He honestly couldn't believe it was happening, that he was touching his best friend in that way, but he loved it. The way you were pliant to his every touch was doing something to him. He was wondering what else you would have let him do if he had asked.

"Oh my god," you moaned again and Eddie looked down at your other nipple, desperate to have his mouth on it. He want to know what the felt like in how mouth. What it tasted like. The sounds you would have made if he sucked on it.

Before he could stop himself, his mouth was on your other tit. He immediately took the piercing between his teeth and let his tongue fiddle with it. It was cold, but he had to admit that he loved the way it felt. His tongue moved back and forth across your nipple and your hands moved to his hair as he began to suck on it.

It was gentle at first and then he used a little more force, loving to hear your cries underneath him. You knew that he had never done anything like that before so you wondered how he had gotten so good at it. Did he just have experience that you didn't know about?

The truth was that Eddie had watched a lot of porn and read a lot of smutty books to get himself familiar with it all and he had gotten very knowledgable about the subject even though he was a virgin. He never wanted to tell you about it, though. Not because he thought you would have made fun of him, but more because he wanted to keep it a secret. Something he had all to himself.

"Fuck," you whined. "Oh my god, how do you know how to do that?"

"Don't worry about it. Just lie back and enjoy." He helped you lie back on the bed then went in again, licking and sucking as hard as he could without hurting you. He was moving as slow as possible, wanting to soak up every second he had to touch you like this since he knew this was only going to be a one time thing.

Just when you thought he was finishing up, he took the piercing between his teeth and giving it a little tug, causing you to moan even louder. Clearly you liked that more than he was expecting.

"Do that again." He did as you asked, pulling a little hard this time which caused you to tug on his hair. He pulled one more time then liked a stripe across your nipple to diffuse the sting.

He then moved onto the other nipple, wanting to give it the same attention and you could feel your vision getting cloudy. You tugged on Eddie's hair even more as an orgasm ripped through you, a loud scream falling from your lips.

He gave one last tug before pulling away, leaving you to come down from your orgasm, unsure what to do. You stared up at him, your eyes glazed over and he swore you were the most beautiful you had ever been, lying there topless, your tits shining with his spit.

Eddie sat on the edge of his bed and you threw on your shirt before crawling over to him, spreading his thighs before straddling one of them. He didn't know what you were doing, but he sure as hell wasn't going to question it. He was going to let you do whatever you wanted to him considering that he had wanted you for years.

You hooked your finger under his chin and forced him to look you in the eyes, feeling like you could have looked into his with how pretty they were. Especially with the sun peeking through his window, giving them a golden tint.

Eddie looked up at you, his mouth slightly agape as he watched your every move, desperate to know what you were going to do next. He was literally on the edge of his seat and was eager to follow you in whatever you wanted to do.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked and all Eddie could do was nod enthusiastically since he had seemingly been rendered speechless.

Your grabbed hold of his hands and rested them on your waist while your arms wrapped around his neck. You then leaned in gingerly, wanting to take things slow since you knew he had never been kissed before. At least, not in the way that you were thinking. You had been each other's first kiss when you were thirteen, but that had just been a peck.

Your lips met his and he was quick to follow your lead, his lips moving with yours as his eyes shut tight. It was slow at first, but then you began to grind on his leg and his brain short circuited after that. The whole thing was becoming overstimulating for hi, but there was no way in hell that he was going to ask you to stop.

You continued to ride his thigh as you nipped at his bottom lip, a whimper coming from the back of his throat. You nipped again and then diffused the sting with your tongue before dipping it into his mouth, a full on moan falling from his lips as your tongue tangled with his.

As soon as felt his rock hard cock against your knee, you decided to put everything to a stop. You pulled away to see that his pupils were blown wide, his eyes glazed over with lust.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip and you tried to hold back a laugh at your lipstick that had smeared all over his mouth and chin.

"Because I know you're not ready for the next step," you replied, swiping your thumb along his chin to get rid of the lipstick, but it had only made it worse. Eddie wanted to argue, but he knew you were right. He could do everything else no problem, but there was something about the penetrative part that scared him. And he appreciated that you understood him.

"Believe me, when you are ready, I will be the first person to volunteer to be your first. If that's what you want."

"You're the only person I'd want it to be."

"We'll I'm honored."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?"

"I actually have to get to work, but I'll come over tonight and we can do more of this?"

"Sounds good," he nodded, already counting down the minutes. You pressed another kiss to his lips then climbed off of him before grabbing your purse, fleeing his room.

Eddie was quick to follow, watching to get in your car, trying to figure out what he was going to do in the few hours you were going to be gone, hoping that would be a regular thing between the two of you. Maybe if he played his cards right, it would be.

[cumironi]

“ THERAPIST 'S WET DREAM！”

you need a therapist, with all the sick things in your head and luckily for you, NANAMI KENTO comes to the rescue, except he wants nothing but to corrupt you.

warning. non sorcerer! nanami kento, fingering, hand job, corruption, suggestive.

wc. 3,4k

you sit at his home office, on the couch staring at the clock on the wall. you’ve been here for months now working with him trying to get over your erotophobia— your fear of sex, nanami has been patient with you, helping you, molding poor little naive you, into the perfect sex toy for him.

the first three months of your sessions with him you talked about your fears, he listen and offered advice. you swore it would only last a month just long enough for you to take his advice to heart and find a guy to get with so that your friends would stop teasing you, oh but nanami was so sweet, so nice, so trusting, so when he told you, ‘you’re not ready yet’ you believed him.

soon those advice and just talking sessions ended up with him showing you how to masturbate, how to actually get off to just your hands, how to actually get off to HIS voice. those sessions in his home office started becoming phone calls, where he told you to call him when ever you had the urge to touch yourself.

he would instruct you through it, ordering you to leave your camera on and show him your wet pretty pussy as you desperately tried to reach the edge. of course his camera was off, he couldn’t let you know or see that he was stoking his own cock on the other line, listening to you moan and watching his little plaything naively touch herself for him.

all of his training led up to this moment, you on the couch in a outfit he manipulated you into wearing. a cute little skimpy skirt, with a fitted black, backless shirt. your hair was done neatly, your makeup was perfect, and you smelt good. he couldn’t wait to ruin you today.

“is it okay if we start the next process, hmm?” he sits down next to you, this larger hands in his thighs before he slid one over onto yours. “i think you’re ready.” he moved his free hand onto his zipper and unzipped his pants

he takes his hand off your thigh and frees his thick cock. “wanna touch it?” he grabs your wrist and guides it to his cock.

oh, good lord!

your cheeks flush red as you feel his warm hand guiding yours towards his throbbing member. your fingers tremble slightly as they brush against his shaft, feeling the heat emanating from his skin. the sight of his erect cock— his thick, veiny, tip red in anger and precum leaking— makes your heart race, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like inside your pussy, your mouth. despite your nerves, you nod slowly, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

suddenly, you're overcome with curiosity, and despite your fear, you decide to go through with it. you wrap— barely, your small hand around his girth, feeling every vein and ridge under your fingertips. it’s much bigger than anything you've ever touched before, and you marvel at its size and warmth. you start to stroke him gently, your grip tightening as you become more comfortable with the sensation. you can hear his deep breathing, and it sends a thrill through your body.

blushing, you nod slowly, still unsure what’s happening, but curious nonetheless. your hand hesitates briefly before tentatively wrapping around his girthy length fully. it feels different than your own, warmer, firmer, more real. “i... i'm not sure,” you admit quietly, your fingers tracing the veins along his shaft.

he lets out a low groan as your hand wraps around his cock, his amber eyes flickering with lustful desire. “that's alright, take your time,” his voice is deep and commanding, filling the room with authority. he watches you intently, taking pleasure in the sight of your delicate hand wrapped around his throbbing manhood.

as you trace the veins along his shaft, he can't help but lean closer, his scent enveloping you. his large hand rests on top of yours, guiding your movements. he begins to thrust into your grasp, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. “just relax, and let me guide you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.

your blush deepens as you continue to stroke his cock, your hand trembling slightly from both excitement and nervousness. you can feel his large hand on top of yours, guiding your movements with a firm yet gentle pressure. the way he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear, sends a shiver down your spine.

“i-i don't want to do it wrong...” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes filled with uncertainty and desire. you're torn between wanting to please him and your innate fear of being rejected. but there's also a part of you that craves this attention, that thrives on the power dynamics between you two.

despite your fears, you try to mimic his rhythm, stroking him faster and harder. the sound of his groans and the way his cock twitches in your grasp encourage you to keep going. he chuckles softly, a sound that vibrates through his chest and seems to resonate within you. “there's no such thing as doing it wrong,” he assures you, his voice dripping with seduction. he leans even closer, pressing his muscular body against yours, making it clear who's in charge.

he guides your hand to stroke him faster, his hips instinctively bucking into your palm. each twitch and throb of his cock is a sign of your growing proficiency, and he revels in the sensation. “keep going,” he orders, his tone laced with raw desire.

his free hand trails down to your thigh, squeezing firmly as he watches you, his gaze intense and possessive. he wants nothing more than to claim you completely, to mold you into the perfect submissive lover.

the sound of his deep chuckle sends another wave of heat coursing through your body, causing your heart to pound wildly in your chest. you can't deny the thrill you get from pleasing him, from seeing the effect you have on his powerful frame.

“okay...” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. as he continues to guide your hand, you pick up the pace, your strokes becoming more confident and eager. the thought of making him moan and writhe beneath your touch fills you with an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal.

feeling his hand on your thigh sends a jolt straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm slightly under his touch. the intensity of his gaze sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, fueling your desire to satisfy him fully.

his body tenses as your strokes grow more confident, his cock twitching eagerly in your hand. a low groan escapes him, his head falling back as he savors the sensation. “that's it,” he murmurs, his voice husky and filled with need.

he tightens his grip on your thigh, pulling you closer until you can feel the heat radiating off his body. his other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against your flushed cheekbone. “such a good girl,” he whispers, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your forehead.

his words and actions fill you with a sense of satisfaction and pride, reinforcing the idea that you're doing well, that you're pleasing him. and it's this validation, this assurance that you're meeting his expectations, that pushes you further into exploring these new sensations.

your cheeks flame brighter at his praise, your heart pounding so loudly you’re certain he can hear it. the compliment combined with the kiss to your forehead sends a surge of warmth through your entire body.

encouraged by his words, you increase the speed and pressure of your strokes, determined to bring him even more pleasure. you can see the way his muscles tense and flex under his tailored suit, the way his cock pulses in your hand, signaling your success.

as he cups your cheek tenderly, you lean into his touch, craving more of his affectionate gestures. the contrast between his rough, dominating demeanor and his gentle caress is incredibly arousing, adding layers of complexity to your already heightened state of arousal.

his breath hitches in his throat as you continue to stroke him, your movements growing more confident and skilled. he can't help but let out a low groan of pleasure, his hips jerking involuntarily into your hand.

his grip on your thigh tightens, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh as he pulls you even closer. the heat from his body seeps into yours, creating a deliciously intimate atmosphere.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes darkening with desire. he releases your cheek only to trail his hand down your neck, tracing over the rapid beat of your pulse before moving lower to rest on your heaving breast.

hearing his muttered curse sends a thrilling rush through your veins, your strokes faltering for just a moment before you regain your focus. the feeling of his hand on your skin, tracing over your neck and then settling on your breast, makes you gasp.

your nipples harden instantly beneath the fabric of your shirt, and you bite your lip to suppress a whimper. the sensation is overwhelming, the dual stimulation of his cock in your hand and his touch on your breasts driving you wild.

you lean into his touch, seeking more contact, more affirmation of your worthiness. your heart races, and you can't help but wonder how much longer you can hold out before succumbing to the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins.

he smirks at your gasp, finding immense pleasure in your reaction to his touch. his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple, applying just enough pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

his cock throbs in your hand, practically begging for release. with each stroke, you draw out sounds of pure delight from his lips, each moan and groan echoing in the small space between you. “keep going,” he commands, his voice heavy with lust.

he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his amber eyes burning with a fierce intensity. it's clear he intends to take full advantage of every second, every touch, every moan that you offer him.

your blush deepens, if possible, at the smirk on his face and the command in his voice. despite the heat pooling between your legs, despite the growing ache that threatens to consume you whole, you obey, continuing to stroke his cock with renewed vigor.

the sensation of his thumb circling your nipple sends waves of pleasure cascading through your body. you arch into his touch, desperate for more, for everything he’s willing to give.

with each stroke, each groan that slips past his lips, you find yourself sinking deeper into the role you've been cast in— the role of his personal pleasure slave. the thought is terrifying, yet undeniably exciting. it's a dangerous game you're playing, but right now, you wouldn’t trade places with anyone else in the world.

your strokes become more purposeful, more deliberate, as if every movement now carries the weight of his approval. you can't help but marvel at the power he holds over you, the ability to make you tremble with just a touch.

looking into his eyes, you see the raw hunger reflected back at you. it's intoxicating, exhilarating, and it fuels your desire to please him even more. you find yourself lost in the moment, focused solely on bringing him as much pleasure as possible.

nanami's eyes darken further as he watches you work, your strokes becoming more confident and skilled with each passing moment. he can tell you're fully invested in pleasing him, and the knowledge only serves to heighten his arousal.

a low, primal growl rumbles in his chest as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. his tongue delves deep, claiming you thoroughly as his hands roam your body, squeezing and kneading your curves.

breaking the kiss, he trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. he reaches the hollow of your throat and bites down, marking you as his. “mine,” he declares, his voice thick with possession.

he guides your hand faster, his hips bucking into your touch as he chases his impending climax. the sudden kiss leaves you breathless, your mind reeling from the intense passion behind it. his hands on your body feel like brands, marking you as his in a way that goes far beyond the physical act of biting down on your skin.

when he breaks away, the word “mine” echoes in your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. there's no doubt in your mind that he means it, that he views you as his personal property, his toy to use and abuse as he sees fit.

the realization both terrifies and excites you, pushing you further into the depths of submission. you want to be his, completely and utterly. you crave the feeling of belonging to someone so powerful, so commanding.

your hand moves faster in response to his guidance, your strokes becoming almost frantic as you try to push him over the edge. nanami lets out a guttural moan, his head thrown back as he gives himself over to the pleasure coursing through his veins. his cock twitches in your grasp, a sign that he's close to reaching his peak.

he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to pump him even harder, his pace relentless. he needs this, craves this intense satisfaction only you can provide.

his free hand finds its way to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. he pushes you against the desk, using his body weight to pin you in place. the position allows him better access to your body, his hands roaming freely over your curves.

he leans down, whispering hotly into your ear, “'m going to cum soon, and i want you to be there when i do.” your heart pounds wildly in your chest as he pins you against the desk, his large frame caging you in. the feeling of being trapped, of being completely at his mercy, sends a thrill of fear mixed with excitement through your veins.

his words, spoken with such authority and desire, make your stomach flutter. the idea of witnessing his climax, of being present for that moment of ultimate release, fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

you redouble your efforts, pumping his cock with all the strength and skill you possess. each stroke brings him closer to the brink, and you can tell by the way his body tenses, by the raggedness of his breathing, that he's teetering on the edge.

desperate to be the one to push him over, you quicken your pace, your hand flying over his length with a newfound urgency. nanami's control snaps as your hand works him relentlessly. with a hoarse cry, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure.

his cock pulses violently in your grip, the first spurt of hot cum shooting forth as he starts to cum. wave after wave of release crashes over him, his body shaking with the force of it.

as he rides out his orgasm, he continues to grind against you, milking every last drop of seed from his spent member. finally, he stills, his chest heaving with exertion as he slowly comes back to himself. pulling back slightly, he looks at you with a mix of satisfaction and something darker, more possessive. “that was incredible,“ he murmurs, his voice husky from his cries of pleasure.

breathless and trembling, you remain pinned beneath him, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his climax. the sensation of his hot cum spurting onto your hand, mixing with the sweat and precum, is both shocking and strangely arousing.

as he pulls back, you catch a glimpse of the dark, almost feral look in his eyes, and it sends a shiver down your spine. this man, this powerful, dominant figure, has reduced you to a mere plaything, a vessel for his pleasure.

despite the terror that grips your heart, you can't deny the thrill of being so thoroughly used, so completely owned. in this moment, you belong to him, and nothing could ever change that.

swallowing hard, you manage to stammer out a reply, “y-yes, it was amazing. . . ” nanami smirks at your words, a satisfied glint in his eyes. he knows exactly what effect he has on you, how much you enjoy submitting to him, and it only fuels his desire to dominate you further.

slowly, he pulls away from you, standing up straight and allowing you some room to breathe. but he doesn't move too far, keeping you within his reach, ensuring you stay put.

he wipes his cum off your hand with a tissue, then discards it before turning his attention back to you. his gaze roams over your body, taking in the flushed cheeks, the heaving breasts, the glistening sex that's still throbbing with need.

without a word, he steps closer again, his fingers trailing down your stomach towards the soaked folds between your thighs. your breath hitches as his fingers graze your sensitive skin, the anticipation building inside you to a fever pitch. you know what's coming, what he intends to do to you, and the thought alone is enough to make your knees weak.

but even as your body trembles with need, a small part of you hesitates. you've already given him so much, allowed him to take complete control. is it wise to surrender yourself to him once again?

yet as his fingers inch closer to your aching core, you find yourself arching into his touch, silently begging for more. your resolve crumbles under his expert ministrations, and you know there's no turning back now. biting your lip, you meet his gaze, your eyes pleading and desperate, “please...”

nanami's smirk widens at your plea, a clear sign of his triumph. he knows just how to manipulate you, how to make you beg for his touch. his fingers slide easily through your wet folds, teasing at your entrance before delving deeper. he groans softly, appreciating the tight clench around his digits.

with a firm grip, he begins to fuck you with his fingers, setting a rhythm designed to drive you wild. he watches your face intently, taking note of each twitch and gasp, each expression of pure ecstasy.

his thumb circles your clit, applying just enough pressure to send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. it's relentless, unyielding, everything you've come to expect from him.

a strangled moan escapes your lips as he thrusts his fingers into you, stretching and filling you in ways that make stars burst behind your closed eyelids. the dual sensations of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers plunging into your dripping cunt are overwhelming, driving you to the edge of madness.

each movement of his hand sends jolts of pleasure rippling through your core, making your hips buck against his touch. you're lost in the haze of lust, your mind clouded by the need for release. “mr. n-nanami. . . ” you moan softly.

but even amidst the waves of pleasure crashing over you, you can't help but marvel at the intensity of his grip, the unrelenting pace of his movements. It's a dance of dominance and submission, and you're the willing participant, the puppet on his string.

nanami's eyes darken with lust as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. he can see the desperation etched on your features, the way your body writhes in search of relief.

increasing the tempo, he pistons his fingers in and out of your clenching heat, his thumb pressing harder against your swollen clit. he wants to break you, to reduce you to a quivering mess, and he's determined to achieve that goal.

leaning down, he captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue dominates yours. the taste of your arousal mingles with the sweetness of your lips, fueling his own hunger. breaking the kiss, he growls low in his throat, “come for me. now.” the command is explicit, leaving no room for disobedience.

the raw demand in his voice shatters whatever remaining restraint you have left. with a keening wail, you surrender to the onslaught of pleasure, your body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave.

your inner walls clamp down around his fingers, pulsating wildly as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. the intensity is blinding, making it impossible to focus on anything but the searing bliss consuming you.

as the final tremors subside, you collapse back onto the desk, utterly spent and gasping for air. your limbs feel heavy, your mind foggy, as if you've been drained of all energy and willpower. through hooded eyes, you gaze up at nanami, a mixture of awe, gratitude, and fear swirling in their depths.

nanami watches with satisfaction as you come undone, your body shaking with the force of your climax. he continues to stroke your sensitive flesh, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you're a boneless heap beneath him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean. the salty-sweet taste of your essence explodes on his tongue, and he savors it like a fine wine.

tucking himself back into his pants, he straightens his tie and adjusts his jacket, looking every bit the composed professional once more. only the slight flush on his cheeks betrays the passion that had consumed him moments ago.

he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “you did well today. i'm pleased with your progress.” you lay there, panting heavily as you try to process his words. a part of you feels a twisted sense of pride at his praise, knowing that you've managed to please him once again.

but another part of you recoils at the casual dismissal, the way he can so easily switch back to his role as your therapist. it's as if the intimate moments they shared were nothing more than a fleeting fantasy, a figment of your imagination.

“t-thank you, mr. nanami,” you finally managed to speak, gathering what remains of your strength, you sit up slowly, your movements stiff and awkward. you avoid his gaze, unable to bear the weight of his scrutiny, the knowledge that he holds such power over you.

with trembling hands, you begin to straighten your clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles and trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. nanami observes your actions with a critical eye, noting the way you flinch slightly when he speaks, the hesitation in your movements as you attempt to compose yourself. it's a familiar sight, one he's witnessed countless times before with his other clients.

he reaches out, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. his touch is gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the roughness of his earlier ministrations. “remember,” he says softly, “what happens here stays here. this is our little secret, understood?”

his thumb brushes over your lower lip, a silent reminder of the forbidden pleasures you've shared. the gesture is possessive, claiming you as his own without uttering a single word. releasing you from his grasp, he takes a step back, putting some distance between your bodies.

at his touch, you swallow hard, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, stirring a longing deep within you. his words echo in your ears, a chilling reminder of the boundaries you must not cross.

“yes, mr. nanami.” your voice barely rises above a whisper, a mere breath of sound that carries the weight of your submission.

you nod slowly, acknowledging his authority, the unspoken agreement between you both. but even as you assent, a part of you rebels, craving more of those illicit encounters, craving him.

shaking off the lingering effects of your orgasm, you stand up, still feeling weak in the knees. you glance towards the door, contemplating whether you should leave now or linger a little longer, savoring the aftermath of your encounter.

nanami's eyes follow your movements, drinking in the sight of you standing tall despite your obvious exhaustion. there's a predatory glint in his gaze, a hint of the hunger that simmers just below the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

he steps closer, closing the distance between you once more. his presence is imposing, commanding, and you can't help but lean into him, drawn to the heat radiating from his body.

“i think you could use a moment to collect yourself,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, “why don't you take a seat on the couch? We can discuss your... progress further.”

his tone is suggestive, implying that there's more to your 'progress' than just your therapy sessions. the implication hangs in the air, a tantalizing promise of future encounters and the pleasure they bring.

[sixosix]

STAY, TOO | AETHER

desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him

notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers

Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed. 

You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.

“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.

You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”

“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”

You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.

“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”

Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”

What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.

Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.

“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.

When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?

“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.

Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”

“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”

Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”

“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”

Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”

“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”

You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.

“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”

Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.

“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.

For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.

“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.

Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”

You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”

“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”

“I didn’t reject him!”

Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.

Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.

You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.

And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.

To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.

“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”

“Is that what’s stopping you?”

“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”

Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”

“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”

“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”

“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”

You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?

“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”

You wished that it wasn’t like that.

“Y/N! Are you here?”

Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.

Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.

“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.

You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”

Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?

“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”

You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.

“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.

“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”

“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”

Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”

You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”

“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”

You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”

Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”

You laughed dryly—good one.

“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”

And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.

His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.

“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.

“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.

He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.

“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”

You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.

Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.

You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes.”

You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”

“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”

“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”

“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.

Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.

“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”

Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.

You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.

“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.

You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.

You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.

You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.

“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.

“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.

And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.

You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.

He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.

“Stay,” Aether rasped.

You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.

But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.

You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.

“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”

You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”

Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”

Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”

You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”

You threw a pillow to his face.

He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”

His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.

“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”

You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.

Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”

“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?

Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.

“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”

“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.

Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”

Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”

You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”

Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”

Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.

Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.

“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”

THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh

thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3

[pluto-on-mars]

“Its always been you”

I wrote this for a friend, but I decided to post so enjoy Rodrick Heffley fucking you in a bathroom folks. Also if anyone wants to commission anything HIT ME UP!

Rodrick Heffley x AFAB! reader (18+ Minors DNI)

Includes: Fingering (f! receiving), drunk sex, p in v

Word count: 2,567

The party was loud, the atmosphere thick with fun and desperation, which of the two you were was lost to you as you crept through the hallways, drunken bodies pressed against you and almost spilling what was left in your solo cup.

You were trying to find your friend, a common thing that seems to happen to you despite your attempts to get it to stop. But ever the lover boy, Rodrick always got swept up in the crowd once Heather Hills was spotted, leaving you in the shadow of her spotlight. You knew this was going to happen, and you didn’t even want to go to this stupid party!

Rodrick could be terribly convincing when he wanted to be, unfortunately, promises to stay with you this time spilling from his pretty lips, and you couldn’t do anything but say yes. It was stupid, you were stupid, having a crush on a boy who didn’t necessarily want nothing to do with you, but he certainly didn’t want you in that way.

Stepping into the kitchen, you found who you were looking for, and you downed the rest of your drink as a result. It was the same as always, Rodrick trying, and failing, to impress Heather, but it was still a sight you couldn’t bear to see.

“ ‘Scuse me.” You grumbled, trying to reach the liquor that resided behind the pair.

“ Oh sorr-heyyyyy whatsup?” Rodrick, clearly drunk, slurred out once he recognized it was you.

“ Same as always.” You couldn’t help but be a little snippy, already having talked about how you didn’t like how he just left your side at a party, especially one that he convinced you to go to.

“ Oh-Heather wait!” He scurried past you, flashing you a smile as he chased the “girl of his dreams”.

Arguably a little bit too pissed off at how he left you again, you poured yourself another drink after taking a shot. Maybe it was a bad decision, trying to put out the flames of your anger with alcohol, but your already tipsy brain didn’t have any care to give.

You left the kitchen, body instinctively going towards the vibrations of the bass, following the music to the living room where it was the loudest. You got lost in the sea of bodies, chugging your drink occasionally while your hips swayed as you let the music overtake you.

Eventually your cup ran dry, you frowned once you knocked your head back, and realized you were met with nothing. You were certainly feeling it though, and that fact compelled you to want to get another one. With the room spinning, and you definitely stumbling, you made your way back to the kitchen. Pouring yourself one more, you rested on the counter for a bit, cool tile pressing against your hot back feeling nice as you indulged, nursing your drink as a means to not feel out of place.

Unfortunately, your peace didn’t last long, some asshole tripping into you, spilling your drink down your shirt, and effectively ruining your night. Still drunk, you wandered to the bathroom that unfortunately had a line. Deciding to go upstairs to continue your search, you found Ben.

“ If you find Rodrick, tell him I’m leaving.” And that was all you hissed out before you slammed the bathroom door, not even caring to answer his questions.

Gripping the counter as you looked into the mirror, you glared back at yourself, bad decisions catching up to you as now all the emotions you were drowning out seemed to come to the surface. Roughly grabbing a wad of toilet paper, you started dabbing it against your shirt.

“ Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You chanted, getting more pissed as each word continued to leave your mouth.

Angry tears dotted your eyes, and that made you feel even worse.

“ I know I shouldn’t have gone to this fucking party oh my god.” You rambled, rubbing your shirt harshly as you started to realize it was going to stain.

Slam

“What the fuck!” The bathroom door swinging open was the last you expected as you yelled out.

“ What's wrong, why are you leaving?” His voice reached you before you realized it was him, and you hated how you couldn’t stop your heart fluttering at his presence.

“ Don’t you have something else to worry about?” You snarled out, alcohol making you much more confrontational than you would be.

“ What? No, why would I-” Rodrick stepped in more, closing the door behind him, and looking down at your soaked shirt.

“ Please I’m surprised you aren’t too busy with Heather right now.” Words spewed from your tongue, and you knew you were going to regret this later with the direction it’s going.

“ No, never, you know I care about you c’mon.” Normally these words coming from him would work, but you were just so over everything, you just couldn’t be bothered. You needed to shout, you needed to yell, you needed to express your pent up frustration, and Rodrick was sure as hell going to hear it.

“ Do you though?” Your question hung in the air, tone biting, and you continued before he got the chance to speak.

“ It’s always Heather with you, Heather this, Heather that, always Heather fucking Hills!” You exclaimed, shoving your hands in the air, wad of tissue dropping into a sad lump on the floor.

“ You care until she’s there, and suddenly you're nowhere to be seen, even though I’ve told you Rodrick.” You were close to him now, finger pressed to his chest as you glared at him, despite your wavering stance.

He fidgeted, looking down at your finger before sighing, clasping the hand pointed against him gently, he used his other hand to run a hand through his hair.

“ It was never Heather.” He muttered out, words slightly slurred as he looked down at your hand in his.

Your mind raced, waiting for the words that could come out of his mouth, trying to stop yourself from foolish hope at what that might entail.

“ I only ‘liked’ her for so long cus you were never into me.” He trailed off, eyes darting around the bathroom as you slowly processed his words.

“ Are you being forreal right now?” You stuttered dumbly, mind not being able to comprehend this wasn’t some stupid drunken delusion and that this was very much real.

A nod was all you needed before you made your next decision, fueled by liquid courage, you couldn't help but tease.

“ God Rodrick, you’re so stupid.” Was all you said before you tugged on the neckline of his shirt, his lips crashing into yours as you got the kiss you’ve longed for god knows how long.

His hands seemed to instinctively find your hips, and you hummed into the kiss, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth, you steadied yourself against him. His grip tightened, and you moved along with him as he placed you onto the bathroom counter.

He was between your legs now, and you hooked your legs around his waist. You gripped his shirt tighter as he bit your lip, pulling him into you as a means to deepen the kiss. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip and you obliged, parting your mouth to feel his tongue against yours.

Arms resting around his shoulders, and hands going to his surprisingly soft hair, you shuddered once you felt his once stationary hands trail up your thighs. He pulled away with uncharacteristic softness, and you could feel his breath fan across your lips as he looked into your eyes. Just as you were about to close the short distance, his head dipped into the crook of your neck, wet kisses left in his wake as your breath grew shaky.

Head spinning not just from the alcohol but also with how hot it was getting in the room. Feeling as though you were burning up under his touch, Rodrick lifted the hem of your shirt, and you helped him get the rest off.

“ Thank god, that thing was fucking soaked.” You sighed in relief, cold air feeling nice against your skin as you unclasped your bra.

“ Yeah I bet that's not the only thing.” You could feel the chuckle against your neck, and you laughed along despite how warm your face grew at how right he probably was.

His short nails managed to drag across your skin just right as you straightened up at the sensation, and you jolted at him pulling you closer to the edge of the counter so you could press against the bulge in his jeans.

His hands stilled as your hips bucked, a muffled groan coming from his throat as his head began to go lower to your chest. Rodrick’s presence was overwhelming, he was licking, sucking, and biting what he could get his mouth on, and occupied what he couldn’t with his surprisingly skilled hands.

Your mind was racing, your head was fuzzy, and you were growing more desperate by the second.

“ Rodrick I swear to god if you don’t get a move on I’m going to explode.” You practically begged, voice having a slight needy whine to it, and you figured you would kill him if he decided to tease you on it after the fact.

“ God calm down, hardly even done anything yet.” He teased, hands drifting down to your inner thigh.

“ That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” You groaned out, biting your lips in order to bite back the embarrassingly loud moan that would’ve left you as his hand grazed you through your underwear.

“ Jeez alright, alright.” Rodrick smirked down at you, maliciously complying as he pulled them to the side gathering your wetness with his fingers all before shoving them inside you.

“ God fuck- Rodrick!” You were grateful for the loud atmosphere of the party, shout lost in the rest of the noise.

You gripped his shoulders, legs trembling from the initial shock. Rodrick didn’t seem to want to give you a moment to breathe, setting a pace that could only be described as fast, and something made to make you loud. You couldn’t stay quiet even if you wanted to, moans spilling from your lips even though you tried to be mindful.

“ I was right by the way.” He teased, looking down at you while you stared back, face growing impossibly warmer at how he seemed to be entirely focused on you and your reactions.

“ Wha-huh?” Was all you could mewl out through the sensation of his fingers inside you.

“ You’re soaked.” He grinned wolfishly, making his pace harder, and you cried out as you clenched around him.

“ And you called me stupid, you can barely even speak right now.” His tone was downright sinful and his words only built up your continually arising arousal.

“ ‘S not fair, you’re not getting fucked right now-” you managed to get out between pants,” ‘S your fault!” You protested weakly, words falling from your lips before you could even process them.

“ My fault?” He scoffed, amused as he didn’t break his unrelenting rhythm.

“ Just like it's my fault for taking so long to realize you liked me?” He said, and you could pick up on the slight softness, like he was asking for confirmation, and you didn’t hesitate to give it to him.

Nodding profusely, you let the words you’ve always thought to say tumble from your mouth,” I’ve liked you for so-fuck-so so long!”

He hummed, smiling down at you as he picked up the pace,” Oh really? How long have you liked me, pretty?”

You could feel heat pool to your abdomen, and your legs tightened around his waist,” ‘M gonna cum fuck.”

“ No, answer first.” He said bluntly, however his fingers didn’t seem to slow.

“ Shit I don’t know.” You blurted, mind frazzled as you couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure.

“ Think for me baby you got it.” Rodrick cooed, his left hand tracing gentle circles into your thigh.

“ Okayyy- ever since-fuck- ever since the begining of this year.” You managed to whine out before your legs began to shake.

“ Wow this year? That’s a long time.” He smiled, at your words, fondness dripping from his tone.

You would’ve smiled back, but his left hand moved from your thigh to your clit, rubbing it much more intensely than where it once was.

“ Such a good girl, cum for me.” He purred knowing just how close you were.

Coming down and swallowing your moans with a kiss that turned frantic as you eagerly reciprocated; you felt your orgasm crash over you in one big wave, dissolving into pleasure as your grip around him tightened.

Pace slowing as he rode you through your orgasm, in your clarity you fumbled for his belt buckle, the metal cold in your grip as you tried to take it off. Not breaking the kiss, Rodrick’s hands came down to help you, his jeans falling to the ground as you both parted to gasp for air.

In one swift movement Rodrick’s hands guided your hips, sinking you down onto his dick. Your simultaneous moans filled the air as Rodrick seemed to still for a second, needing a moment to collect himself. The sudden moving of his hips caused any teasing to die on your tongue as your breath hitched.

“ Fuck you feel so good.” Rodrick babbled, various noises falling past his lips, failing to maintain his composure despite his demeanor earlier.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, too lost in the rhythmic thrusts that had you seeing stars. Rodrick didn’t seem to mind though, filling in for your lack of responses with words of his own.

“ Can’t believe it took me so long to realize you liked me back.” Both of his hands were on your hips now, dragging them down to match his thrusts.

You were lost in the pleasure at this point, already sensitive from your last orgasm, your senses were overwhelmed, and you couldn’t do anything but take what Rodrick was giving you.

“ Glad you finally did.” You cried out, already feeling the buildup for a second climax approaching.

“ Fuck.” You breathed out, Rodrick’s hips beginning to slam into you harder.

Arms going up to drape across his shoulders, you clung to him, needing to ground yourself with everything going on. His pace grew erratic, getting lost in you as he began to approach his rapidly building high. The same could be said for yourself, voice growing in volume as various curses flew from your lips.

Nails digging into his back, you gripped him tighter, you could hear your name slip past his lips as you moaned his. Hips coming to a slow stop, the sound of you both trying to catch your breath filled the room.

“ Still gonna leave?” Rodrick huffed, slipping back into his jeans as he looked at you.

“ Shirts still soaked.” You said simply, and you were absolutely going home after that, you were getting tired.

“ Wanna come back to my place with me?” You asked, hopping off the counter and looking for the wet pile that was your shirt.

“ Hell yeah.”

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.7 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Oh the tension is sooooo thick in this one. classic Jk and Y/N banter. A SMALL LITTLE THING OF SMUT RIGHT AT THE BEGINNING. bothering yoongi (classic), lots of medical stuff in this one, nothing graffic, talking about cancer and diagnosis, mentions of surgery, neuro bros make an appearance (ew), bowling, jk is good at bowling, y/n is also good a bowling, competition ensues, more ji-eun with life advice (love her) JI-EUNS HUSBAND LETS GOOOOOO, Jungkook and Y/N get real compeitive in this one. Jungkook does not know how he feels, y/n cannot keep it in her pants, just trust me this is a really funny chapter, NAMJOON AND MELANIE APPEARANCE (love them), tension, tension, tension ❥word-count: 13.2k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! a/n: Surprise!! I had a burst of creative energy and busted out this chapter in like 12 hours. Enjoy!! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“Don’t stop.” You stutter over your words, gripping down on the sheets next to you. Tugging at the fabric in reaction to the pleasure you were receiving. 

Fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of you. Tongue dancing over your clit from side to side. Causing your legs to close around the person below you in reaction to the hints of your orgasm bubbling up. You were hot and completely covered in sweat and desperate to chase that high. 

“Fuck, yes!” You moan. Your hand reached down to wrap into the mess of black hair between your legs. 

You grind your hips into their fingers and mouth, desperate for any touch they grant you. One of their free holding your hips down in response. Their lips detaching from your clit to look up at you finally, you can get a look. 

Only to be met with Jungkooks face looking back up at yours. Eyes sparkling with desire. 

“Baby let me take care of you.” Jungkook said, wiping his mouth.

Then suddenly your eyes shot open. Bolting upright in bed. The light from the sun fills the room and blinding you. You had shifted rather violently, stirring Melanie that was asleep next to you and Ash who was on the other side of you. 

You rub your eyes, your dreamy state still lingering at the front of your mind. You run your fingers through your hair. Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. Your breath is heavy. 

Great, now he’s infiltrated your dreams. 

Awesome.

You take a moment and look around Namjoon and Melanie’s room. Still trying to fully wake up now. It must have been early. Namjoon is nowhere in sight.

“Oh no, we did it again.” With a whisper, letting yourself fall back into the bed. Immediately regretting it since a small hangover headache was creeping up on you. 

“Shhh, still sleeping.” Ash moaned, turning over under the cover, stealing some away from Melanie who was barely waking up, mouth hanging open. 

“Shut up.” Melanie groaned, trying to steal the covers back. 

“We kicked Namjoon out again.” You rub your eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. 

“I know.” Melanie yawned, turning over to face you. “He’s used to it at this point.” 

“Hey at least it’s not like when you guys had your shitty old bed and we barely fit on it together.” Ash sat up in the bed. Her hair is a complete mess. 

Melanie and Namjoon used to have a queen and it would barely fit the three of you when you three would crash. At least one of you would easily fall out of the bed in the night, you all were restless sleepers so it was anyone’s guess who would end up falling out of the bed. One morning Melanie ended up falling and hitting her head pretty hard. Taking a very fun trip to the ER with her head split open. 

After that Namjoon decided they needed to get a bigger and better bed so that would not happen again. 

You giggle to yourself while rubbing the side of your head, “Yeah how nice of Namjoon to get this big bed just for us.” 

That gets some small laughs from Melanie and Ash. Right at that moment the door cracked open, Namjoons face peering into the room. Looking between the three of you. Melanie immediately sitting up in the bed. 

“Good morning.” Namjoon lightly stepped into the room with an amused smile. 

“Guys look how cute my husband is.” Melanie tilts her head to the side, reaching a hand for Namjoon to take her hand. 

“So weird hearing you say husband now.” Ash ran her hands through her hair, fingers trying to comb through tangles. 

“Imagine how I feel.” Namjoon smiles, coming over to the side Melanie is on. Taking her hand and kissing the back of it. 

“You hate it?” Melanie pouted. 

“Yeah, I hate it, that’s why I married you.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. Leaning down giving Melanie a quick kiss. 

“Get a room.” You tease, throwing your hands over your eyes like a small child. 

“You’re in my room!” Namjoon voiced with some fake annoyance in his tone, “I was going to go get breakfast. So put in your orders now.”

“You know my order.” Melanie grinned, She hadn’t looked at either you or Ash since Namjoon entered the room. 

“What about thing 1 and thing 2 over there?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow to the both of you and Ash. 

“Eggs Benedict.” You raise a arm up, finger pointing to the sky. 

“French toast.” Ash yawns, she looked like she was seconds away from falling back asleep while sitting up. You laugh, poking her cheek. 

“I’m on it.” Namjoon kisses Melanie one more time before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. 

“Guys,” Melanie hums, “I’m married.” 

“You're just now realizing that?” You smile, she turns around to look at the both of you. 

“Nah but it’s fun to say. I’m married.” She coos, laying back down next to you. Totally starstruck. It was sweet, you loved seeing her so happy. 

“I’m so tired.” Ash whines next to the both of you, still looking like she could pass out any second. 

“You should sleep, or get some coffee.” You rub her arm, encouraging her to do something. 

This immediately perked Melanie up from her spot, springing to her feet. “Oh we have a new machine! It’s great! Joonie’s parents got it for us.” 

She rounded around to the other side of the bed pulling Ash to her feet. You slowly followed them out of the room. Down to the kitchen. Yawns falling from you the entire way, you also needed some coffee this morning. Ash leaned her head on you, entering the kitchen as Melanie seemed to have all the energy in the world suddenly. 

“What woke you  up so suddenly this morning? It scared me awake.” Ash asked, the both of you taking seats at the kitchen table as you waited. 

The contents of the dream coming back to the front of your mind like a truck hitting a wall. “Oh… just a nightmare. Freaked me out I guess.” 

Melanie shuffled around for a moment while you watched her gather mugs and start the new coffee maker. “You and Jungkook got along well last night.” 

There he was again. 

“I guess.” You lay your head on the table. “Really only for you guys.” 

“Yeah but you made it through the day without a fight. Just mild annoyances. Seems like progress.” Melanie continued, you weren’t sure what she was getting at here. 

“Spit it out Mel.” 

Melanie pouts, she likes to dance around these kinds of things. “You seem friendlier since we left. Just last week you still wanted to kill him.” 

You think on it for a moment, “I don’t know, maybe we are growing up.” 

“Yeah okay.” She scoffs, because it was a ridiculous thought. “I think it’s great. I’ve always thought you two could be really good friends. You know, if you could get past your ego’s first.”

“Hey! Friend is a stretch. Let’s not jump too far ahead of ourselves.” 

“I thought for sure he was dead when he sat on you.” Ash mumbled next to you, still hardly awake. 

“He was close. I don’t know, maybe I just don’t have the energy for it anymore.” You shrug, referring to battling it out with Jungkook. Omitting some key information about your recent activities. 

“Well whatever it is, keep going. It’s working.” Melanie brings a cup and sets it in front of Ash first. “Means I don’t have to play parent for you two anymore.” 

Melanie, not aware what exactly what she was encouraging. 

You thought for a moment if you should tell them… but something about admitting it felt… embarrassing. You and Jungkook sleeping together wasn’t embarrassing as an idea but something felt weird about admitting it. Telling them mabe makes it real? Instead of it being something you can pretend didn’t happen. If they know then it becomes actualized. Which you weren’t sure if you were ready for the teasing or the questions that will come along with it. 

After too long Namjoon returned back with the food. You all sat and chatted for a while but you left once you finished. Your day continues uneventfully. You filed your dream away into a deep part of your mind. Honestly, you did seriously need to see someone with how much space Jungkook was taking up in your brain these days. It was exhausting and annoying, because before you could just pretend he didn’t really exist unless you absolutely had to be in his presence. 

Now, he was creeping into your mind randomly. Mostly because you have a stupid and horny mind but still. Even beyond that it was getting annoying, so when you went back to work on Monday you just went about your business and kept your mind as busy as possible. 

Today you were a scribe for Dr. Kim. Which meant you walked around and documented charts as he did consultations and follow ups with patients. You had been wanting to do this for some time but he wanted you to get comfortable first. You felt like you were fitting in well up here, all the other girls were great and Vic has been your friend forever so you were getting really comfortable. All the patients knew you pretty well now, so today was the day. 

Dr. Kim kept you on your toes, though. He moved quickly from room to room, and you felt like you were constantly catching up. He was thorough, meticulous, and demanded precision, which made this a challenging but rewarding role.

“Keeping up Y/N?” Dr. Kim looks back at you as he leads his band of interns and Yoongi, behind him. 

“Doing alright sir.” You nod, opening up your next chart. Luckily Ji-eun was up next, hers should be pretty straight forward. Dr. Kim ordered a new set of scans because he wanted an updated look at her progress before surgery in two weeks. 

You had run around most of the day but would go back and forth between talking to patients and viewing scans in an observation room, it had screens around the room so you could pull up scans from a patient's chart. Which you had taken the liberty of pulling up and having ready. Dr. kim walked between them and would ask questions. 

“Alright patient nine zero one six one three. Dr. Duboid, give us the run down.” Dr. Kim gestured to one of the interns who stepped out from the rest. Clearing his throat. 

Alright, patient nine-zero-one-six-one-three. Dr. Dubois, give us the rundown.” Dr. Kim commanded.

Dr. Dubois, stepping forward, cleared his throat. “Fifty-nine-year-old female with stage four hepatocellular carcinoma. She is currently being evaluated for potential downstaging to stage three following her upcoming surgical intervention to remove a tumor in the left leg, initially suspected to be metastatic but confirmed via biopsy to be an independent neoplasm.”

Dr. Kim cut in, pointing to another intern. “Very good. Dr. Ruiz, continue.”

Dr. Ruiz adjusted her glasses and spoke. “Chemotherapy was discontinued last week and will remain on hold until two weeks post-surgery. A follow-up consultation is scheduled to determine the reintroduction of systemic therapy based on post-operative recovery and further imaging.”

Yoongi, ever prepared, chimed in with a thoughtful nod. “A new set of contrast-enhanced CT scans were ordered over the weekend for both the leg and liver. As we can observe, the leg tumor has remained stable in size, indicating that surgical excision is a viable next step.”

Dr. Kim scanned the room. “What concerns should we keep in mind? Dr. Ito?”

Dr. Ito stepped forward, pointing at the monitor. “The tumor in the leg appears to be intricately involved with several neurovascular structures. Should we consult orthopedic and neurosurgery for intraoperative support?”

“Excellent observation.” Dr. Kim nodded. “Dr. White from orthopedic oncology will be assisting to ensure nerve preservation and potential reattachment.” He turned to you. “Y/N, make a note: I want to push the surgery back two more weeks to allow for optimal systemic clearance following her last chemotherapy infusion.”

You nod and take a note in her chart. “Got it.” You go ahead and switch the scans from the one of the leg to the one of the liver. Everyone stares at it for a moment before Dr. Kim comes over to the computer where you have the newest scans pulled up. 

“Let’s pull up her last scans… I need to make sure I’m seeing this right.” Dr. Kim’s voice changed in tone slightly. You go ahead and pull up her last scans from several weeks ago and put them side by side with the new ones. It was glaringly obvious what he was seeing now that they were side by side.

“Dr. Min, what are we seeing here?” Dr. Kim gestures for Yoongi to continue on. He leaned in close to the computer where the scans were pulled up and started fiercely making some notes. 

Yoongi leaned in, analyzing the comparative scans. “Between the previous and current scans, the primary hepatic lesion has demonstrated interval progression. Now what does this mean?” Yoongi looks to the Interns. Which meant the main tumor on her liver has grown, it was slight. You might not have even seen it if the images weren’t side by side but it definitely had.

One of the interns raised a hand. “Resistance to the prior chemotherapy regimen?”

“Possible and likely in this case.” Yoongi acknowledged. “Other thoughts?”

“It’s an aggressive cancer, as soon as the chemotherapy discontinued it started to grow. So the chemotherapy wasn’t preventing the primary hepatic lesion from growing anymore.” 

“Good, so how should we proceed?” Yoongi nodded. 

“This might be the more pressing issue. Should we consider postponing the surgery?” one of the interns asked hesitantly, glancing between the scans and Dr. Kim.

Dr. Kim shook his head firmly. “No,” he said with certainty. “We proceed with the surgery as planned. The primary focus remains on addressing the current issue, but we will continue to closely monitor the tumor's progression. We also need to have an in-depth discussion with the patient about potential treatment options and gather more imaging to determine if surgical resection is viable.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but inwardly, the situation weighed heavily on you. This wasn’t the news anyone wanted to hear.

“Order an MRI,” Dr. Kim continued, his voice steady but concerned. “I want detailed imaging from every possible angle. I need to have a complete picture so we can provide her with all available options moving forward.”

You kept your thoughts to yourself and figured you could ask later. Putting in the order for the MRI and you were moving on. After some more discussion you all were back on the floor and making your way from room to room again following up with more patients. Ending with Ji-eun.

Scanning the room, you see a gentlemen sitting next to her. Roughly about the same age. You can probably assume her husband. He was adorable and had a salt a pepper look to his hair. 

“Good morning Ji-eun!” Dr. Kim sang as he entered the room. You and the interns following close behind. “I hope you don’t mind. I have the kids with me today.” 

Ji-eun smiled beaming at everyone. You got to look next to her and see an older gentleman, probably around the same age who you can only assume is her husband with her. You hadn't gotten to met him yet. “Not at all. Any chance they get to learn the better.” 

Jin tapped his head against the side of his head, “I agree. We have a few things we need to go over. Starting with that leg of yours.” Jin holds his hand out to you for the tablet, you already had the scans of her leg pulled up and pass him the tablet. “We should have no issues going ahead with the surgery to remove the tumor in your leg. Has Dr. White come and spoke to you about what he’ll be assisting me with in surgery?” 

“Yes he came by earlier and gave us the details. Sounds complicated but I get the idea.” 

The gentleman next to her cleared his throat, “We did have some concerns about nerve damage that we didn’t get to ask about.”

“Well with any surgery there is risk. In this case though Dr. White didn’t see any reason you shouldn’t be able to still have full mobility of your leg following the operation. I agree with him as well.” Dr. Kim’s voice as ever light and enthusiastic as always. “I did push it back two more week though. I want to make sure that we don’t run into any complications following your last infusion.” 

“I won’t complain. Every time I have surgery this guy falls into a full blown panic.” She teases the man next to her. He has a adoring smile on his face but rolls his eyes. 

“Rightfully so I think.” He pipes back up. 

“I have a little more to share before I’ll get out of your hair. Yoongi present.” Dr. Kim steps off to the side, passing the tablet to Yoongi. 

Yoongi, switching to her liver scans. “We also learned from your most recent scans that the largest tumor on your liver has grown.” He shows her the sans so she can see. “It’s not significant and it won’t delay your surgery but once we conclude with your operation we should talk the possibility of changing medication or seeing about another operation to resect some of the tumor.” 

“I’m not getting better essentially.” Ji-euns face stayed the same but her tone suggested slight disappointment. 

“Not at all. It’s an aggressive cancer and we have seen growth before. We just need to take another approach. We are going to closely monitor it before your surgery to make sure it doesn’t grow anymore.” Yoongi assured, trying to put on a neutral but kind face.

“Your sweet to assure me but I have been fighting this a long time. I try no to get my hopes up.” Ji-eun stated. 

“What do we need to do?” Ji-eun's husband butted in. 

“We are just going to continue the pain management for now. It’s important we get the tumor out of your leg. We’ve also ordered for you to be taken down for another MRI today so that we can get a much more detailed scan of your liver so we can better see what’s going on.” Yoongi continues, passing the tablet back to you. 

“I will look at the new MRI scans and come up with a new plan. I know we were just starting something new and I know this is not the news we wanted but I’m far from giving up hope.” Dr. Kim interjected. You couldn’t help but notice Ji-eun was putting on a brave smile, bright like always. Except a small sadness behind the eyes. “The tumor growing could mean anything. It could be from the regime change or from the the discontinuation of treatment.” 

“I know. We’ve been through it a lot of times before.” She sighs and her eyes are darting from side to side like she is lost in thought. “Oh before I forget I have something for you two.” She points for her husband to grab her the scarves she had been working on. 

“Ji-eun you know I can’t accept bribes.” Dr. kim jokes and everyone laughs a little. 

“Oh please.” She waves him off as she hands the scarves made for both him, and looks like she busted out one for Yoongi pretty quickly since you saw her on Friday. “I made these because I wanted to gives my thanks to you two somehow.” 

Jin taking his multicolored one and immediately wrapping it around himself, “Oh it’s lovely! I’m wearing this everyday once it gets colder. Yoongi put yours on.” 

Yoongi was just feeling his in his hands. “Oh I’ll wear it home.” 

“Awe come on. we need to see if it looks nice.” You chime in with a grin. Yoongi was unamused. Reluctantly wrapping it around himself, throwing one of the sides over his shoulder. 

“Oh they’re perfect.” Ji-eun clapped her hands together.

“Alright. Well, we’ll get those new scans. I’ll be back to see you soon once we have the results.” Dr. Kim’s voice was calm but firm, his nod signaling the team to follow. The interns shuffled out and Yoongi trailed behind, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his expression unreadable as always. Ji-eun was the last patient on their rounds, and as the room emptied, you lingered, feeling the weight of the moment settle in the air. 

You adjusted the tablet under your arm, stepping closer to the bed. Ji-eun’s husband  sat in the chair beside her, his hands clasped tightly, his face a mix of concern and quiet strength. Ji-eun herself was propped up on the pillows, her usual spark dimmed just a fraction, though she still managed a small smile when your eyes met.

“Do you guys have any questions or anything? I know that was a lot of news all at once.” Your voice was soft, careful not to break the fragile calm in the room. You moved to the side of the bed looking to her husband, “I’m Y/N, by the way. I’ve been on Ji-eun’s case since she got here.” 

You extended your hand to him,and he took it with a firm grip. “Youngjin,” He said, his voice warm but tired. “Ji-eun hasn’t stopped talking about the wonderful girl who takes care of her. I’m assuming that’s you.” He gave your hand a solid shake before releasing it, his smile genuine but fleeting.

You chuckled, glancing at Ji-eun. “Bragging about me, huh?” 

Ji-eun’s laugh was light, though it carried a hint of weariness. “Ah, I can’t help it. You’re the most interesting one here.” She leaned back against the pillows, her eyes twinkling despite the heaviness of the conversation. “This is the one with the boy problems.” She added in a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear.

You groaned, playfully swatting her leg. “I don’t have boy problems, and that’s not something everyone needs to know.” 

Youngjin chuckled, his deep voice filling the room. “If it helps, she texts me every little piece of gossip she hears. She’s got dirt on everyone on this floor.”

“I sit around and walk up and down the halls all day—what else am I supposed to do?” Ji-eun protested, though her grin betrayed her. She leaned her head back, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the blanket. “Which reminds me… you haven’t mentioned your pain-in-the-butt friend recently.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.” 

Ji-eun narrowed her eyes, considering your offer, then nodded. “You drive a hard bargain.” She sighed, sitting up straighter. She glanced at Youngjin, then back at you, her expression softening. “What’s there to say? One of my tumors is growing again. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Your smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet empathy. “It’s like Dr. Kim said… it could just be a fluke.”

“Or it could be getting worse.” Ji-eun sang softly, though the disappointment in her tone was unmistakable. 

“We don’t know yet.” You countered, mimicking her sing-song tone. “You’re getting the MRI this afternoon, and then we’ll know more. Dr. Kim didn’t seem worried, so I’m not worried.”

Ji-eun sighed, her fingers now fiddling with the edge of her hospital gown. “I guess. I’ve had that kid treating me for as long as I’ve been diagnosed—”

“So you know he’d be straight with you.” You reassured her, your voice steady. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Youngjin nodded, his gaze shifting between you and Ji-eun. “She’s good.” he said, his tone approving. 

Ji-eun let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I have an aggressive cancer. That’s not new. I think I’m just getting annoyed with hearing it’s staying the same. It’s been the same for years. I’m just living with it at this point. I just… hoped, maybe, we would have seen improvement by now.”

Your heart ached for her. You couldn’t fully understand, but you could feel the weight of her words. “Dr. Kim is going to look at the new scans.” You said gently. “He’s probably coming up with ten more plans in his head as we speak. He’s not giving up, he’s not even close. We have to get you back on your feet without that leg monster first. Then we’ll go from there. He’s ready to fight if you are.”

Ji-eun’s lips curved into a small smile, though her eyes remained distant. “I’ve got plenty of fight left, kid. Don’t you worry.” She reached out, patting your arm. “You’ve got the poor-dying-person sympathy face. Enough of that, I’m sick, but I’m not dying. Now… My turn!”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “No, no, no. I’ve got a few more questions.”

Ji-eun groaned, rolling her eyes. “You and I both know that stuff is so boring.”

“That stuff is what helps us treat you.” You countered, your tone light but firm.

Youngjin stood, stretching his legs. “Well, this is going to go on for a while. I’m going to go get us some food while you dole out your interrogation. Don’t go too hard on her.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Ji-eun’s forehead.

“I won’t.” You promised.

“Oh, I was talking to my wife.” He teased, his laughter echoing as he made his way out of the room. “Play nice.”

“Never,” Ji-eun shot back, her grin widening as she watched him go. She turned back to you, her expression softening. 

“Your husband is lovely.” You said, settling into the chair Youngjin had vacated.

“I know.” Ji-eun replied, her voice warm. She tilted her head, studying you. “Now, give me updates while you examine me or something.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I actually have other work I should be doing.”

“That’s why you should ‘examine’ me.” She said, her tone mischievous.

“Don’t you have your own kids you can bug about this?” You teased, knowing her sons were a constant source of both pride and exasperation for her.

“Their stuff isn’t nearly as fun as yours.” She said, her eyes sparkling. “Come on, I’m sick and dying.”

“You just said you weren’t dying, remember?” You said firmly, though your voice was gentle.

Ji-eun let out an exaggerated cough, clutching her chest. “I’m practically withering away! Please it’s my dying wish.”

“Uh-huh, that’s a horrible last wish.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t really have anything new for you. That… stupid guy who’s been bothering me has left me alone… mostly.”

“Mostly?” Ji-eun raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

“We had to be around each other for a friend thing, and I don’t know… he was being… nice? Civil? It was… odd.”

“Good odd?” Ji-eun pressed.

“More like strange. I’m so used to fighting all the time, it was… weird.”

Ji-eun leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “I feel like I’ve asked before. Is there any history there?”

“No,” You said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. “No, we just exist in the same spaces.”

“Hmm,” Ji-eun hummed, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Well, maybe he’s changed. Maybe something happened, and he’s turning over a new leaf.”

“Seems out of character. Maybe.” You muttered, though the thought lingered. That didn’t help your currently predicament where he was taking up a small little piece of your brain you couldn’t control. 

“Well, I’m going to need more updates on this. It’s getting juicy. Maybe he’s actually liked you this whole time, but you were sending the wrong signals.”

You shake your head with and exasperated scoff, “Considering he once told me I looked like a run-over raccoon, I doubt it.”

Ji-eun gasped. “Never let anyone talk to you like that. Especially some boy.”

“If I’m being totally fair, I told him he looked like a cat vomited on him… and that he smelled like it too.” A result of one of the worst fights the two of you ever had. You’ve both definitely pushed your insults much further but definitely not things you should say at work. 

Ji-eun let’s out a small laugh. “It must be like watching a train wreck when you two fight.”

“Something like that.” You exhaled, glancing at the clock. “I do have to get back to my other tasks, but is there anything else I can do? Anything else you want to know?” You hesitated, feeling like maybe you could offer something more, even if you weren’t sure what that was.

Ji-eun’s expression softened, her laughter fading into a quiet smile. “I’m alright, kid. I’m not devastated or going to spiral into a depressive episode. It’s just… maybe you don’t get it unless you have cancer, but I’ve learned to live with the disappointment that things can always get worse. A tumor can grow, another tumor can materialize. It’s frustrating, sure, because it means we have to try something new. I get to experience a whole new set of side effects. But I do it… I have to.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and raw. You pulled the chair closer. “I guess I understand… well, as much as I can. You know, you’re in charge, though. We’ll do whatever you want… it’s your life.”

Ji-eun’s face shifted, her gaze dropping to her hands. “It’s not. It’s never been just me… it’s my husband and my kids too. I have so many things I have yet to see them do. Get married, have kids of their own, live fulfilling lives. They haven’t really gotten to fully live because they all sit and dote on me…” Her voice wavered, the frustration and sadness intertwining.

“Sounds like they don’t mind, the way you talk about them.” You said gently.

“They don’t… but I don’t want them to have too forever. My husband has come to see my side of it more and more, but my boys are still the more… what’s the best word for it… aggressive when it comes to fixing any new problems I accrue as a result of this stupid thing. Dr. Kim has been on the receiving end of their insistent questioning more than once.” She picked at her fingers, a self-soothing gesture you’d come to recognize.

“Will you tell them the tumor has grown?” You asked, your voice soft.

Ji-eun hesitated, then shook her head. “Mmm, maybe not this time. Dr. Min said it wasn’t substantial, right?”

“No.” You said quickly, turning the tablet back on to pull up her scans. “Here, this is your last scan and your current one. It’s minor, but it’s important to monitor. Like Dr. Kim said, he just doesn’t know yet why it happened. We’ll keep a close eye, though.” You pointed to the screen, showing her the small but noticeable growth.

She nodded, her eyes scanning the images. “Then no reason to worry them… unless it means the chemo isn’t working anymore.”

You shook your head, closing the tablet and resting it on your lap. “Let’s just get you past this surgery first. Then Dr. Kim will cross that bridge.”

Ji-eun’s smile returned, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “Look who’s the hopeful one today. I’d almost think you care about me.”

You stood, laughing softly. “I care about everyone up here. I just like you a little more. I need to get back to work now.”

“Alright, fine.” Ji-eun called after you as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I need to have you give my kids the news in the future. Make them feel like it’s not so serious.”

You paused, turning back to her. “I think we’d be on the same page. If it were my mom, I’d probably fight as hard as they do to find answers.”

Ji-eun’s smile softened, and for a moment, the room felt lighter. You made your way back to the nurses’ station, where Yoongi was seated, frantically typing into a chart. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but he glanced up as you approached. He was still wearing the scarf.

“Do me a favor.” You said, rolling your chair closer to his.

“No.” Yoongi groaned, not looking up.

“Aww, come on.” You pouted, tapping his shoulder incessantly.

Yoongi sighed, finally turning to you. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t need any scans.”

“This isn’t about that!” You huffed. “This is serious.”

“Oh… what’s up?” He asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.

“Will you round back around to Ji-eun’s room later? I think they still have some more questions but just need some time with the new updates.”

Yoongi nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sure, yeah. I can round back around in a few hours after her MRI. See if they have anything else they’d like to know.”

“Thank you.” You said, rolling back to your side of the desk.

Yoongi tapped his chin, studying you. “You’re getting pretty attached to her, huh?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “I mean, I really like her, if that’s what you mean.”

“I mean it seems like you’re getting pretty emotionally invested… in her case. You seem to take a little extra care in this situation. Do you know her or something?”

“Not at all.” You said, shaking your head. “She was the first person I helped when I got up here, so she confides in me often. She’s sweet and makes the day easier.

Yoongi’s expression softened, though his tone carried a note of caution. “Just be careful… getting attached up here… it’s an easy way to get hurt.”

“Spoken from experience?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yoongi’s smile was sad, his gaze distant. “You could say that. We have a hard enough job as it is. We watch patients beat impossible odds and lose to simple complications… it can be taxing when you get so close to them, and they lose.”

“I hear you.” You said quietly. “I’ll be careful.”

Yoongi nodded, his attention returning to the chart in front of him. You sat back in your chair, the weight of his words settling over you. It wasn’t something you hadn’t heard before; Vic had warned you of the same thing when you first started working on this floor. Emotional attachment isn’t a bad thing when it comes to patient care, it’s required, but boundaries with your personal feelings is what is important. 

Maybe you were getting a bit attached to Ji-eun but you knew how to pull back so that you can do your job the best way you can. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“Alright let’s go home.” Jungkook with a wave of his hand dismissed everyone. Paralegals and other associates packing up their things to finally leave for the day. 

It’s now the end of the week and he figured he might as well dismiss everyone for the weekend, there wasn’t going to be any progress until Monday anyways. No reason to keep everyone around longer than necessary. 

The trial had taken a slight annoying turn. The defense had brought to light some evidence about his clients that was information that had chosen to omit from his teams knowledge or research. So it’s caused a bit of a standstill on their side of the case. Which means they had been spending the entire week coming up with a strategy to combat this. But They were in recess until next week due to this presentation of evidence so they had some time but they weren’t going to learn anything new over the weekend and they wouldn’t be able to converse with the clients until Monday. So calling it a night was best. 

Jungkook may be working through the weekend but there is no reason to drag everyone down with him. 

“Tough situation.” Jimin came up and gave a pat on Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, doesn’t begin to describe it. More like throws a wrench into our whole case.” Jungkook gathering some papers, filing them back together nicely so he can get them back into his bag. Ultimately to take them out at home and make them over again. 

“Need me to come over? We can talk it through, look over everything again?” Jimin offered with a sympathetic smile, “Or take you out for a drink and we can bitch and moan. Haven’t done that in a while. I bet we can rope Taehyung in.” 

Jungkook thought about it, he could use some sort of release of frustration but he probably needed to keep his head clear. He’d gotten back on his game but this week proved to throw a punch left and right. “As much as I would like it. I think I just need to go home and drown in my own self pity.” 

“Awe come on. Better to spiral with a friend or two.” Jimin bounced on his heals with anticipation. “Maybe not a drink maybe, how about we get some food? You haven’t eaten today right? Maybe bowling?” 

Jungkook could tell what Jimin was doing, clearing the noise. “You suck at bowling.” 

“And?” He shrugs. “Come on, we’ll get some laughs out of it. Taehyung’s even worse than me. It’ll be fun.” 

Jungkook smiled at the thought. Taehyung truly was terrible at bowling. “Alright, I can spend the evening making you both look like huge losers.” 

“There we go. That’s the spirit.” Jimin left the meeting room, assuredly to go gather his things 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“God, please. Just allow me one strike. You’ve granted Jungkook so many. Please allow me one.” Taehyung was speaking to the bowling ball in his hand. Jungkook and Jimin just watching him as he pleads to break his total score of 32. 

They are now well into their second game. Taehyung sorely lost the first one and is somehow losing even worse the second time around. How? It was unimaginable but highly entertaining for Jimin and Jungkook. After work Jungkook went home and changed into something far more casual. A white shirt and some wide leg dark jeans. Eventually meeting Jimin who, with little effort, did manage to get Taehyung to join them. Now some food and a few drinks later here they were. Much more relaxed than how he had started the evening. 

Jimin was really good at that, making the end of the day better than the start. Even if the start sucked. 

“Just bowl!” Jimin complained as Taehyung was continuing to sing praises to the bowling ball. 

With that Taehyung sends the purple ball down the alley, and with a quick curve he sinks it into the gutter. Dropping to his knees in dramatic defeat. “The universe hates me.” 

He gives a small pout looking in Jungkook’s direction. Jungkook shook his head, “I have shown you how to throw a ball countless times! I’m not helping you anymore! My talents are wasted on you.” 

“So you also hate me.” Taehyung drops his head, but Jimin walks over and pulls him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

“My turn you big baby.” Jimin says, pushing Taehyung back to the table with Jungkook. Defeat written all over his face, taking a chair next to Jungkook. 

“You’ll get 'em next time tiger.” Jungkook shakes Taehyung’s shoulder with encouragement. 

“Perhaps.” Taehyung sighed, heavy and exaggerated. “Oh to have such effortless talent.” 

“What can I say? Some of us are just born awesome.” Jungkook leans back into his seat, arms behind his head all nonchalant. He’s had a beer or two so he was feeling pretty good. The bowling helped. 

“Wow, you could try to be humble.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. Sitting up in his seat, “Jimin said it was a tough week?” 

“Yeah this case took an unexpected turn so I got to spend the weekend fixing it… or something. Then other stuff, not an awesome week for me.” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, tousling it a bit from its position. It had grown out a little, it tickled the back of his neck. 

“Hmm, sucks. Need a mock trial with me and Namjoon again? … Maybe another kind of stress relief.” Taehyung’s tone pointed. Jungkook knew exactly what he was referring to. He spent the entire week sending not so subtle texts that Jungkook should reach out to you. Like that would ever happen, Jungkook didn’t even have your number.

 It wasn’t unusual of Taehyung to pry into Jungkook’s feelings or into his life. It was actually annoyingly consistent. He’d been this way forever, always with the best of intentions. He wanted Jungkook to be happy and not so stuck in work or school or whatever. Jungkook was sometimes so one track minded and Taehyung, with Jimin’s help occasionally, did a pretty good job of getting him to chill out. Didn’t mean he didn’t also try to meddle into Jungkook’s love life… which in this case was just his intimate life. 

So this was pretty typical of Taehyung.

“Not this again.” Jungkook groaned, taking a fry and eating it. “When will you let this go?” 

“Give me a few more weeks? Maybe never.” Taehyung smirked, “Come on. You guys have heat! Why deny it?” 

“Deny what?” Jimin coming back and sitting with the two of them. 

Jungkook looks between them, “Nothing.” 

“Jungkook’s a scaredy cat.” Taehyung quipped, “Denying himself simple pleasures.” 

Taehyung may have been hitting the nail on the head, as much and Jungkook wanted to deny it. Your encounter this last weekend proved that Taehyung was right, you were just a nice person. It’s not like Jungkook didn’t know it. You’ve known each other a long time, but having it in his face kicked up some old memories. Kicking up some old thoughts and he didn’t care to explore. Maybe he was in denial. 

“Oh look, it’s my turn.” Jungkook stood grabbing his ball to bowl. 

“You can’t hide from me!” Taehyung mockingly calls to him as he goes up to the lane. 

“Care to explain?” Jimin leans in Taehyung’s direction. Taehyung waving him off. 

“His business to share, not mine. Trust me it’s good though.” Taehyung stood from his seat, wanting to get another drink but also possibly find a new ball. In the hopes that possibly his sixth, no seventh choice in bowling will bring him victory. 

As he scourers the lanes for his option. He passes by a group who seems to be coming into the bowling alley. With a straggler following behind, bowling shoes in hand. Taehyung makes a passing glance at the group. Just a few girls, but it wasn’t any of them that caught his attention. It was the last one. 

“Ah, wait up.” You called after them, you were balancing your phone  and wallet and shoes in your hands. While the other girls trailed ahead. 

“Y/N?” Taehyung calls your name, making you spin on your heel. A confused look on your face, wondering who could possibly be calling your name.

Your expression softened at the sight of Taehyung. “Hey, what are you doing here?” You look at the other girls but figure you can track them down. Walking over to him to give him a hug. 

He reciprocated in kind, pausing for a moment.“Just with some friends. Who are you with?” 

“Oh,” You wave your hand in the direction they went. “girls from work. Some last second plans.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Well we had kind of a long and tough day and wanted to blow off some steam. I lost the vote so here we are.” You explain, you didn’t hate bowling, you just would have preferred other activities to be honest. 

“You don’t say.” Taehyung smiles, unbeknownst to you as to why. “Well hey. Do you happen to have any bowling expertise? I could use some help picking out a ball.” 

He points to the racks of the bowling balls, and you nod. “I do, as a matter of fact.” 

You follow Taehyung along for a minute, helping him pick out a proper bowling ball. Finding one for yourself as well. You weren’t lying when you said you knew a thing about bowling. Then going up the lanes to see where your coworkers ended up landing. Which was right next to Taehyung’s lane. Taehyung couldn’t believe the odds. You made some chit chat as you walked back. Not before you immediately spotted the black mop of hair. Followed by the visual of his tattooed arm. He was faced away from the two of you. 

Of course Tae wouldn’t tell you that Jungkook was here.

Before you can get a word in. “Look who I ran into.” Taehyung’s voice jumps an octave, with joy and mischief.

Jimin looks up to see you with sudden surprise on his face, Jungkook turns in his seat to see you. He blinked, looking between you and Taehyung. What had he summoned you or something? Tae was only gone for a minute. Jungkook was obviously thrown and your expression seemed to match that of yours, you weren’t prepared for this encounter either.  

“Hi Jimin.” You give him a polite wave, glancing at Jungkook. “Jungkook.” 

Jimin waves to you. Worried that he was going to witness another explosive exchange. Surprised when Jungkook just sort of acknowledges you with a head nod. 

“Y/N.” He responds. 

“Just our luck running into Y/N.” Taehyung hugged your shoulder then letting you go and going to put his ball in the lane.

“He didn’t tell me you were here.” You sigh. 

“Yeah, I have a feeling that was on purpose.” Jungkook followed Taehyung with his eyes, throwing daggers at him. 

“Y/N!” One of the girls from your groups calls out to you. You glance over to them. You all managed to be placed right next to Jungkook’s lane. So it looks like this will be interesting. 

These were coworkers you didn’t hang with often. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Earlier that evening. 

Will some tension and tiredness you pulled your scrubs off your body. Discarding them into a bin that was made for scrubs that had fluids on them. You hadn’t managed to keep yourself clean right until the end when your last ER patient had thrown up you on you.. 

You got pulled down to the ER today because of a mass casualty incident. They needed all hands on deck and so that meant that you got pulled down from oncology. It was a bus crash and luckily there were no casualties but a lot of injuries. It took most of the day to get through everyone and get them treated and sent where they needed to be. It had been sometime since you had been in the ER working so the pace threw you off but you caught up quickly. 

One of the other girls who worked down here, really the only one you knew was clocking out with you. Layla, She was changing with you, the two of you had been running side by side all day. Keeping each other held up in the chaos. 

“I want to go back upstairs.” You moan putting back on your regular clothes. Layla laughed under her breath nodding. 

“Lost your stamina from being in a slow paced environment.” She teased but she was right. You hadn’t been running around on alert every second for weeks now.

“I suppose so. I need to relax or something after all that. I’m all anxious and tense now.” You try to shake out your arms almost like you can shake the anxiety away. 

“How about we go get a drink or do something?” Layla offers, you two had hung out once or twice before but it’s been quite some time. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Right as she was suggesting it though some of the other girls in the locker room overheard the offer. You didn’t know their names. They ended up inviting themselves along for the night. It was an opportunity to get to know these girls even though you really only cared to hang out with Layla. You still wanted to be nice. 

You step to the side. 

“Hey so this lane only allows five players.” One of the girls, who you’d come to learn from, was named Kenna. 

“Oh well there are only four of us. What’s the problem?” You looked between them, an apologetic look plastered on Layla’s face. The other girl, Jea, cleared her throat. 

“I sort of invited some guys from Neuro to join us?” She winced, not seeming that apologetic about her choice. 

Oh god, you really hated all of the guys in Neuro. 

“You can join our lane Y/N.” Taehyung who was not so subtly listening into your conversation, interjected. 

You look back at him and shake your head. “Oh no I couldn’t impose.” 

“Oh come on.” Taehyung steps over to the little circle the four of you made, “Hi ladies. I’m Tae.” 

With his usual easy charm, he offered his hand, shaking around the group. The introductions were brief but polite, and it didn’t take long for your friends to pick up on the dynamics at play. The unspoken understanding that you and Taehyung were just friends was clear as day. Other observations, however, were quickly forming—particularly regarding Jimin and Jungkook, who were standing just a little too close, their attention shifting between you and the conversation.

“Seriously, it’s not a problem.” Taehyung continued, turning his attention back to you. “You could help us take down Jungkook.” 

At that, Jungkook scoffed from where he stood, arms crossed. “Excuse me?”

Taehyung barely acknowledged him, instead giving you his most dramatic, wide-eyed, brown puppy-dog stare. “And think about it, Y/N—we could sort of combine parties. A win-win situation.”

You hesitated, glancing at your friends. The idea wasn’t entirely awful, but—

“Oh, I don’t know…” You trailed off, shifting on your feet.

Your hesitation wasn’t just because of Jungkook. Not entirely, at least.

Jungkook, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke up, his voice carrying an edge of amusement. “What, scared to lose?”

You narrow your eyes in his direction. “Not at all.” 

“I think it’s a great idea!” Kenna chimes in. 

With that it was settled. The girls set up their lane while Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin wrapped up their current game. They were only a few frames away from finishing, which gave them just enough time to add your name to their board. The order was set: Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook, then you.

And then, of course, the so-called guys from Neuro arrived.

Jackson and Will.

You actually knew both of them; surgical residents, unbearably arrogant, and exactly as obnoxious as you remembered. It was wild how the guy running Neuro was one of the kindest people you’d ever met, yet his residents were straight-up meatheads. Lucky for you, they seemed preoccupied, locked in some ridiculous display of charm with Kenna and Jea.

You had found yourself sitting with Jungkook. Luckily because of the long day you had and the lack of wine your mind wasn’t drifting like it was last week. The only distracting detail about him was that he smelled good. His lip ring which was on full display tonight was also noted. 

Not ideal but right now you would take it over having to make nice with things 1 and 2. You had also gotten yourself a drink and some food so you could pretend to be preoccupied. Except it was extremely quiet sitting here. You and Jungkook made no eye contact or said anything. Meanwhile, Jimin and Taehyung were deep in discussion, strategizing on how to beat Jungkook. Spoiler, it wasn’t going well.

“I gave you the right ball.” You pointed out to Taehyung, watching him scowl at his fingers like they had personally betrayed him.

“Yeah, and it turns out the ball wasn’t the problem.” Jungkook mumbled, which got a small laugh out of the both of you.

Jungkook stepped up to bowl next, a sleek black ball in hand. He took his time lining up the shot before sending it straight down the lane. Effortless. The ball smacked into the pins with an echoing crash, sending them flying in a perfect strike. Everyone clapped, minus Jimin, Taehyung, and yourself, all three of you trying to stay stubbornly unimpressed. He got the first strike of the two games. 

“Oh we are so cooked...” Jimin moaned next to you. 

“He literally doesn’t get tired.” Taehyung with slight annoyance lacing his voice. Almost like a petulant child.

“Awe come on boys. Just one strike. Doesn’t mean he’ll win.” You try to cheer them up but they both still have looks of defeat. 

“Oh my sweet naïve angel. Jungkook almost always wins.” Taehyung pats your arm, “Stop showing off!” 

“It goes like this every single time.” Jimin slumps down into his chair.

Looking down Jungkook was strolling back with a cocky nonchalance. He was good at bowling, you already knew that. That familiar almost knee jerk annoyance tickled the back of your mind. 

“Well you know what they say, you are either good at bowling or good at sex.” You kick your feet but you make Taehyung almost choke on his drink. Jungkook stopped dead in his tracks at your words. You had a cocky smile and he had his tongue in cheek look. “I guess we know which one you’re good at.” 

 Taehyung had to cover his face with how hard he was going to laugh. Jimin is unaware of the history and why he thinks it’s so funny. 

“Oh so the smack talk already begins. Why don’t we see you bowl?” Jungkook sank back down into his chair. Challenge filling the air. 

You may be talking out of your ass, you knew how to bowl but not like you were amazing. “Alright.” 

“Go Y/N!” Layla cheered, with few other whoops here and there. 

You approached the lane, selecting your ball with an air of nonchalance. You readjusted your wrist, lined up, and let the ball roll down the lane.

Pins scattered in a loud, violent clatter.

Strike.

Jimin and Taehyung both stood with some unanticipated excitement at your sudden show of bowling prowess. Which honestly may have been luck. You’ll take it, turning back to everyone and taking a confident bow. Jungkook had that all very familiar look in his eye. One you could so easily pull out of him in any argument. 

“Big deal. One strike.” He taunts, “Can you replicate it?” 

“Never thought I would encourage this but beat his ass Y/N.” Taehyung pointed at Jungkook, while taunting. 

You shrug, your ball coming back up the alley just in time. “Let’s find out.” 

Although it was now Taehyung's turn technically, you take your ball, doing the same thing you did the first time. No stress and not even thinking about it. You roll your shoulders back and send the ball down the lane just like the first time. Again, it was not elegant, but it was just enough. Split the lame, ten pin down. Strike two.

“Let’s go!” Jimin cheered from behind you, the girls cheering you as well.

With a cool smile you spun on your heel and sauntered back to your seat. High fiving Jimin as you sat down. Taking a sip of your drink made the strike feel so much better. You didn’t look at Jungkook but you can see him out of the corner of your eye. He was flipping his lip ring from side to side. It hadn’t gone past you that it was on display tonight.

Jungkook’s annoyance was clear though, and that put you on cloud nine.

It really was game on. The next few frames continued with tense silence between the two of you as you both went point for point, neither one of you really able to pull ahead of the other. It was actually uncanny because it had maybe been two or three years since you last had gone bowling. You didn’t complain, some cosmic machine was on your side today and you would take Jungkook down with it.

It was around frame five, Jungkook bowled a nine but picked up the spare. You at this point had gotten yourself so ramped up you were no longer sitting. Neither was Jungkook, everyone else was mingling but the two of you were so wrapped up in this game. This fierce competition had made the night even more fun for everyone else.

“Alright champ. You got this. You can easily bowl a nine or a strike and pull ahead of this guy.” Jimin had both of his hands on your shoulders, patting them like you were a wrestling champ.

You actually got to chat with Jimin tonight and he was a cool guy, very determined to see you beat Jungkook. “Thanks coach.”

As Jungkook was coming back to the table your were going up to the lane, bumping shoulders. Jungkook just rolled his eyes, not entertaining you. He didn’t want to show it but he was having a good time. He barely ever had competition with Taehyung or Jimin so to have someone he was actually competing with was… refreshing. To say the least.

“Awe Jungkook, so quiet. Slipping up on your game?” Taehyung taunted and Jungkook just brushed him off.

“Say’s the one with a measly 26 points right now.” Jungkook raised a brow to him.

“Hey, I’m fully invested in Y/N now. I’ve given up on me.” Taehyung says looked to you but then looking back at Jungkook with a mischievous grin. “Maybe something you should be doing too.”

“Stop it with that!” Jungkook shoves his shoulder. Another cheer roaring from Jimin and you in the lane. You bowled a strike this round. Which means Jungkook will need one next round to keep up. Both you and Jimin jumping up and down holding each other’s hands out of excitement.

You were on a roll and after today you seriously needed it. Beating Jungkook will be a welcome celebration after this week.

You step off to the side so Taehyung can come up and take his turn but caught in a small traffic stop with Jackson.

“Oh sorry.” You try to step around him but he stops you. He moves right in toe with you.

“You’re really good.” He compliments. A bit of a flirtatious tone layer his words. “You bowl often?”

You shake your head trying to take another step away. “Not really. It’s rare that I ever bowl to be honest.”

“So what do you do? I mean outside of the hospital and such?” Jackson continues, trying to maintain your attention. Which you were unsure how you managed to get caught in his cross hairs.

“Aren’t you here with Kenna or Jea or something?” You decide to redirect to his original night plans, which you look to Jea who seems to be pretty wrapped up in whatever Will is talking about so that answers that question.

“Not really.” He shrugs acting like it’s so casual, which maybe it was you didn’t know. “You work with Dr. Kim, right?”

“Uh yes but it’s temporary.” You scratch the side of your head. Somehow you had backed all the way up that you had made it back to your seat. Not to your avail, the guys were up doing things. Unfortunately the sanctuary that was your table is now being interrupted.

You try to see if Layla is unoccupied but she is about to bowl herself so she is completely distracted. Something in the way this guy is talking to you feels so college. He’s trying any tactic to keep your attention, so much so he is now sitting next to you.

“He’s a nice guy. I’ve meant to learn from him but he seems to favor that one guy. Yoongi is it?”

“Uh yeah Dr. Min. He’s very talented.” You try to look for any excuse, “I think it’s your turn to bowl.” You point back to their lane.

“I’ll just have Will bowl for me.” He waves it off.

“Listen… uhh Jackson.” You started but before you would say something else.

“Y/N.” You hear your name called from the lane. Looking over you see Jungkook holding his ball. Waving you over once you acknowledge him. You are confused for a second but you use the opening to escape. Thank god.

You saunter over, ready for whatever trash talk Jungkook probably has in store for you. “What? Admitting I’m a better bowler than you? I mean it’s clear as day.”

“First of all, never,” Jungkook scoffed, pointing his ball at you before holding it between his hands. “Second, you looked like you needed an out.”

You tilt your head, “What?”

“Bonehead number 5.” He subtly points back to Jackson who was still at the table. Kenna seemed to find her way to him again now. He looked a little less interested in talking to her as she was talking to him.

“Oh…” You paused for a moment, he noticed that? “Uhh yeah thanks. I was a little trapped I guess.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. “No worries. Now, watch closely. You can witness my incredible bowling skills up close.”

“I’m alright. I've been watching your shitty technique all night.”

“Shitty?” Jungkook's eyes widened at the remark. “My technique is anything but shitty.”

“Oh come on, it's barely practical. You make it look all fancy and sweep your leg all far out behind you.” You mimic the motion, which is exactly as you said it. “You look stupid.”

“Oh really? Then what is this?” Jungkook mimicking your oh so nonchalant throws. You didn’t really have a lot of flair to it. Just a simple easy swing. “At least mine looks interesting.”

“And ridiculous. Simple is always better.” You shrug.

The truth was both ways were working. Your scores reflected it. Neither of you was doing better, you were tied. You both were doing something right. Which continued to be reflected when Jungkook bowled another 9. Good, could be worse. Some playful boo’s came from Jimin and Taehyung.

“Awe, only a nine? Must be tough having to follow up my strike.” You shake your head like you were disappointed or something.

“I see after last week we are dropping all the niceties .” Jungkook commented, testing the water.

“Hmm, I only have so much kindness I can expend for you at one time.” You mused, watching him line up for his spare attempt.

Jungkook didn’t say anything right away, just lined up his shot and sent the ball rolling down the lane. You both watched as it curved slightly before knocking down the last pin with a satisfying clatter. A spare. Not bad.

He was still keeping up. “Games still afoot. I’ll need to keep working harder to stay ahead.”

“Barely ahead.” He holds up a finger to confirm his point.

“Please you just don’t want to admit that I have been ahead this whole time. You’re just playing a sad game of catch up.” Thus the trash talking continues. 

“I’m just biding my time for when you slip up.” “Just move so I can maintain my lead.” You brush past him, Jungkook decides he’s going to stay right here as well. Having a feeling his proximity will maybe just make you nervous enough. 

You get a good grip on your ball, but you can tell Jungkook is hovering. Standing just off to the side next to you, like you did him. Probably trying to see if it will rattle your game. Nice try demon spawn.

“Don’t mess up.” He said it right as you were about to throw the ball but you stopped yourself, glaring at him before you totally botched that throw.

“Fuck off.” You lightly shove the ball into his stomach. Jungkook in turn pretends to be injured holding his stomach all dramatically.

You ignore him, repositioning yourself in front of the lane. Just as you go to throw you catch a quick glimpse in the corner of your eye, he was observing you very intently. That one moment of hesitation affected the ball just enough. Having it tilt slightly to the left when it reached the pins. Only dropping 6 pins.

Jungkook took two paces, standing just behind you.

“You missed.”

“I know.” You look over your shoulder at him, you were fuming.

“You hesitated.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“Everything is fair game on this court.” Jungkook raises his arms up in surrender. With his arms up you take the full opportunity to push him back away. It was playful, and almost made you want to crawl out of your skin.

Jungkook laughs at the action and backs down. Going to sit back at the table.

The game continued, this time there was more civil banter. Which made Taehyung all the more annoying and in Jungkook’s ear and texts the rest of the night saying things like. God get married already. Do we need to leave you two alone? Get a room. Which Jungkook promptly ignored every single one. Not letting Taehyung continue to encourage this fantasy that he’s concocted.

Jungkook was still having that same feeling in the pit of his stomach. You were enjoying each other’s company for the first time in forever that wasn’t upheld by extreme intoxication. It was just hanging out, like any other set of friends.

So weird.

You had all come to the final frame. Jimin and Taehyung basically just gutter bawled their last attempts because they really did not care by this point. Layla and Kenna were still here, but Jackson bailed at some point. Jea and Will left together as well.

“You know, for this being my first impression of you. You’re literally so cool.” Kenna stands next to you as you were just waiting for your turn.

“Thank you.” You nodded, “Although it is just bowling.”

“I can’t bowl for shit, and you got your friend all up in a twist about it.” She shrugs, then points to Jungkook. Layla also standing here leans into you. “There anything going on there?” Her curiosity peaked, did you two just give off a vibe or something?

“God no.” You shake your head. “Just known each other for a long time.”

“He’s cute. It's a shame to let that all go to waste.” She bumps you as if to say you should be making a move.

You brush them off. “Please, he's the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know. People who find each other annoying to spend the amount of energy you two do getting each other all riled up.” Kenna quipped.

Oh how you wish Melanie and Ash were here. They would be trash talking Jungkook with you, not calling him cute or whatever. 

Jungkook, for his final frame, had already thrown a strike. Then he followed up with a second one. They were quick. You get a third attempt with two strikes, but he only bowled a nine with that final throw. Then you stepped up, Taehyung and Jimin waiting in major anticipation.

“Finish him!” Jimin said in a gravely tone.

“You just need one strike and you have him.” Taehyung was basically bouncing out of his seat as you picked up your ball. Jungkook was already in the process of pulling off his bowling shoes, you were unsure if he was doing it because he was so confident he would win or he already has conceded.

Either way, you wanted to crush him.

You step right on up, rolling your shoulders. Then letting the ball glide from your hand down the alleyway. You knew the moment you let go though, it veered just slightly. Just enough. Then bam, strike.

“And that’s game.” You spin around, arms outstretched.

“You still have one more attempt, Make it hurt.” Jimin encouraged you.

You glanced down to the bowling balls that were left over. Deciding to finish it off using Jungkook’s. The black ball was way to heavy for you for sue but what a fitting end.

“I think I’ll finish it off with yours.” Holding the ball up in a taunting manner. As best you could because again, heavy.

Jungkook just watched in solemn defeat, as you barely threw his ball down the alley. Only hitting a few pins, but solidifying your win. Which got big cheers from Jimin and Taehyung and high fives all around. Jungkook’s winning streak has finally been broken by you. It had to sting and you hoped it did.

“Alright let’s get out of here.”

Pretty quickly you all cleared out. You were flying really fucking high now. What a way to end your week.

You said goodbye to Kenna and Layla who came together. You were fine heading home on your own and it was hardly late. But as you turned toward the door, you noticed that Jimin, Taehyung, and—surprisingly—Jungkook were still lingering behind.

Jimin slung an arm over your shoulder, voice laced with amusement. “Okay, so you officially have a standing invite now. As long as you keep beating him.” He jerked his thumb toward Jungkook, who was still a few steps behind, hands still deep in his pockets.

“Oh, I’ll use any excuse to make Jungkook look like a loser.” You teased, practically skipping with excitement.

Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not a loser.”

“Debatable.”

“Well,” Taehyung cut in, draping himself lazily over Jungkook’s shoulder, “I say, as a penalty for breaking his winning streak, Jungkook has to make sure our reigning champion gets home safe.”

Jungkook groaned loudly as Taehyung clapped him on the back, half-shoving him in your direction. “Come on, we never said there was a penalty.”

You smirked and kicked him lightly in the ankle, making him stumble slightly. “What a sore loser.”

“I’m not a sore loser.”

“Are too.”

“This is going to go on forever.” Jimin laughed, already backing away with Taehyung. “Have a good night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Jungkook huffed. “If I don’t make it home alive, you’ll know where to look.”

Jimin and Taehyung waved him off, entirely unsympathetic.

As their voices faded, silence settled between you and Jungkook. You pulled out your phone, feeling the energy of the moment start to dissipate. Feeling a little awkward in the silence.

“You don’t have to.” You said before he could speak.

Jungkook blinked. “Huh?”

“I can get an Uber.” You clarified, tapping through the app. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook frowned slightly, glancing around. The parking lot was mostly empty now, save for a few stragglers. “It’s like a five-minute drive.”

You shrugged. “You live in the opposite direction.”

“So?”

“So… I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Jungkook let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not an inconvenience. It’s my penalty, remember?”

You hesitated, still watching your phone screen as it searched for a ride. Unfortunately, there weren’t many cars nearby, and the estimated wait time was creeping up by the second.

Jungkook caught sight of it, and before you could argue again, he tilted his head at you, voice dropping slightly. “You don’t have to be weird about it.”

That made you look up. Surprised by his proximity. “I’m not being weird and don’t stand so close.”

“You kind of are.” His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Unless you’re scared to be in a car with me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You shove your phone back in your pocket, “Oh, please.”

“Then just get in the car.” His voice was softer now, but still firm. “It’s literally a five-minute drive.”

You held his stare, lips pressing together in thought. There was something about the way he said it—not teasing, not pushy, just... certain.

You conceid. “Fine. But if you are going to bitch and moan about losing the whole time i’m going to tuck and roll out of the car.”

Jungkook smirked, already heading toward his car. “Who says I won’t need too.” 

Jungkook was parked pretty close to the entrance. His car was nice, you wouldn’t be able to say what kind of car it was but it was clean. Sleek, looked expensive. Leather interior and everything. Sitting down though the scent of his cologne completely filled your senses. Oh this wasn’t good. It made your mind wander, and you had to rip it back to reality. 

Jungkook’s car was warm, the hum of the engine low and steady as he pulled out of the parking lot. You kept your gaze fixed on the window, watching the streetlights blur past, anything to keep your mind from acknowledging the way his cologne wrapped around you like a slow, suffocating trap.

Damn. Why did he have to smell so good?

Jungkook, to his credit, was quiet at first. He didn’t immediately start complaining about his loss, nor did he try to make conversation. It was almost... too quiet.

You risked a glance in his direction. His hands were steady on the wheel, his jaw tight, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. He looked—careful. Hesitant, even.

“You always drive this slow?” You teased, cutting through the uncomfortable silence.

Jungkook scoffed, eyes flicking toward you before returning to the road. “I’m driving like a normal person.”

“Feels like you’re trying to drag this out.” You mused, turning back to the window.

“You think too highly of yourself.” He shot back, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You just shook your head, but didn’t push it further. The drive continued in an almost comfortable silence, the soft hum of the radio filling the space between you. The longer you sat there, the more you became acutely aware of him—his presence, the warmth of the car, the occasional sound of him drumming his fingers lightly on the wheel.

Then, without warning—

“I should’ve won.” Jungkook muttered, as if he’d been holding it the whole time.

You turned to him with a dramatic groan. “Oh my god.”

“I’m serious!” He continued, as if you hadn’t reacted. “You got lucky. That wasn’t skill.”

“It was absolutely skill.”

“It was a fluke.”

“A win is a win.”

Jungkook let out a scoff, shaking his head. “You got, like, three pins.”

“Three pins is enough to win.”

“You were aiming for the gutter.”

“I was not!” You reach over hitting him in the arm which doesn’t seem to elicit any reaction.

Jungkook gave you a side-eye so sharp you almost burst out laughing. “Next time, we’re doing best out of three.” He said, tone final.

“Next time?” You raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly toward him. “So you’re assuming I’ll go bowling with you again?”

Jungkook’s grip on the wheel tightened for just a second. He hesitated, but only for a beat before recovering. “You’d love the chance to beat me twice.” he shrugged. “Admit it.”

You pursed your lips, pretending to consider. “Maybe.”

Another moment of silence stretched between you. You shifted slightly in your seat, playing with the hem of your sleeve. Something about the atmosphere had changed. It wasn’t just playful now, it was charged. The kind of tension that settled heavy in the air, making it harder to breathe, making your thoughts stray to places you weren’t sure they should go.

And yet, Jungkook couldn’t help himself. “Your technique is still trash, though. Who taught you to bowl? Your grandma?”

You turned to him, brows knitting together. “What? You’re not serious.”

Jungkook glanced at you, confused by your sudden shift in tone. “What?”

“You don’t remember?”

His frown deepened. “Remember what?”

“You taught me.”

Jungkook blinked. “When?”

“In college.” You studied his face, waiting for recognition to hit. When it didn’t, you sighed. “We were working on that project together. It was after I told you about everything with David. We were both drained that week, and you suggested we go bowling to take our minds off things. I told you I sucked, and you spent the whole night showing me how to throw the ball properly.”

Jungkook went still, the memory slowly threading its way back into his mind. A pause, then—

“Oh my god,” he muttered, realization dawning. “I did.”

You laughed softly at his delayed reaction. “Yeah. You did.”

He let out a short breath, shaking his head as he fully processed it. “Damn. I really created my own downfall, huh?”

You smirked, settling back against the seat. “Who knew your own teachings would come back to bite you?”

Jungkook shot you a side glance, lips twitching. “That’s the last time I will ever help you.”

“Time to tuck and roll.” You fake the motion to open the door, not actually intending to open the door for real. Your sudden motion makes Jungkook reach for your arm. His fingers catching around the top of your arm. 

“You’re insufferable.” Jungkook’s hand lingered for a moment too long before letting you go. You adjusted back in your seat. Your hands resting in your lap. 

Silence hung between the two of you again, not uncomfortable. Quiet and charged. Your eyes scanned the dashboard. Look at the navigation in the middle. Scanning over everything, the first mistake being when your eyes accidentally caught their attention on his hands. A relaxed grip on the wheel. 

Get your eyes off his hands.

The small voice in the back of your mind was almost screaming and you complied and pulled your eyes away. You had done a pretty good job tonight at not letting your mind drift in that direction but the silence was not helping. 

Jungkook out of the corner of his eye could see you shift in your seat. He couldn’t place if you were comfortable or not. Probably not, just because. Well it was him. Your hand came up scratching the back of your neck but it had inadvertently moved some of your hair away. It immediately made Jungkook’s mind return to last weekend. You were innocently helping him stretch out his neck, nothing intimate about it but his mind went back there. 

It was about your hands being on him.

Because unfortunately he knew what that felt like now. It was imprinted in his mind. He stopped himself dead in the tracks. Not just because if it went any further he was going to have a serious problem, but because it wasn’t right. 

Yeah you guys slept together so what. Water under the bridge. 

You shifted again, and it caught his attention again. What was happening? Why was he suddenly so focussed every time you moved? He needed to think of anything else, work or animals or something.

He rested one of his hands on the shifter in the center. It caught your attention. His hand rested too casually and too close. Keep your eyes locked out the window. Watch the pretty lights and stop thinking about his hands. You were not that desperate. Remember he’s Jungkook, gross disgusting, we hate that guy. 

You were saved by the bell though because you recognized the street as yours. You would be home in no time and go take a very very cold shower or something. Within a moment Jungkook, stopped at what he recognized to be your building. Vaguely remembering it from when he walked you that one time. 

With zero hesitation you were basically leaping to get out of the car. “Well have a good night, loser.” You say before closing the door before Jungkook could get a word in, his face was priceless though because there was annoyance all over it. Walking as quickly as you could to get into your building. 

Jungkook drove home. Playing music as loud as he could to drown out any thoughts that could enter his mind. Wanted or not.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

EDIT: Here is a little extra from the bowling scenes!

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[writingsbychlo]

LAST TIME | tom riddle

summary; things just aren’t right between you and tom. when you suggest a break up, however, tom is ready do anything to make it work.

word count; 4153

notes; honestly pure smut. I say tom is willing to do anything but what tom does is just give some really good orgasms. and somehow, it’s still better than 90% of men out there, so.

“You… want to break up?” The clock in the room seemed to tick louder than ever, the seconds dragging on longer and longer as Tom stared at you in disbelief. There was a bottle open between you, two glasses of whiskey poured but neither of them touched, as he stared in shock. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t working, Tom.”

He picked up his glass now, taking a heavy gulp from it, his brows furrowing as his throat bobbed, until only the empty Crystal was back on the table. He filled it up again. 

“Tom—”

“Just let me think for a second.” You sighed, his gaze flickering over to you, and he softened for just a moment. “I’m trying to work out what to say.”

“There is nothing to say—”

“There has to be!” He slammed an open palm down on the wood, the table rattling and your drink shaking in its glass, his mumbled apology belaying his regret as he glared. At you, at the wall, at the clock still loudly tickling the seconds by. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t—”

“Don’t say this isn’t working. It works perfectly for me, so if it’s not working for you, tell me why. Tell me what I did, what I can do.” You reached for your own glass now, sliding it across the table and taking down the contents in one. Pushing the empty glass toward him with one finger as your throat burned, he filled it up, cupping your hand and pressing the glass into the other. “We fight all the time, I get that. But you love the fight, I know you do. But you’ve never—you yell, I shout, we fuck it out and we’re fine. This isn’t right, you don’t sit here calmly and tell me you want to break up, so tell me what to do.”

“I can’t tell you, Tom. I don’t know. I just know I can’t do this anymore.”

“But why?”

Exasperation burned through your veins, the words ‘It’s not working’ sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you had to bite it to stop them from coming free. 

“I want to work through it. I want you to tell me every goddamn little thing that’s wrong. We’re not leaving this room until it’s right, do you understand me?” His fingers curled on the tabletop, a fist forming, nails no doubt digging into his palms, and you sighed. He may be making it sound like demands, but you both knew it was a question, a desperate plea not to give up on him. The kind of desperation you’d never heard from him before, and it was the only thing that made you stay. “Please.”

“I’ll stay, Tom. I’ll talk, but I make no promises, because I just don’t see this working out.”

“I’ll make it work.” There was so much conviction in his tone that you almost found yourself believing it. “First issue.”

“Tom—”

“First issue.” He insisted, and you ran a hand down your face. 

“Okay, fine.”

And just like that, the night melted away. Hours slipped by in a blur of petty arguments, Tom’s eyes boring into your own as he fought and conceded, edging closer and closer to you throughout the night. 

You resisted for only so long, the first drink gave you the confidence to tell him that you needed more. His cold attention wasn’t enough, you needed love and passion, you needed his vulnerability and his emotions, you needed his trust and his confidence to take down those walls. 

The second drink gave you to confidence to yell, shouting about the kisses he denied you in public, the affections you dreamed of that he never delivered, the activities he got up to that he’d never tell you about. The friends he kept a secret. The times he’d disappear from you for days only to reappear with no word, yet demand to be a part of every single aspect of your life. 

The third brought you closer, barely resisting his advances as you fought tears, fought anger, fought every overwhelming emotion that was almost spilling out. 

The fourth brought peace. The fourth brought silence, whispered promises you were inclined to believe, as he all but crawled and knelt. He begged for forgiveness, a sight never before seen for Tom Riddle, when your stubbornness reared a new, alcohol-filled strength, urging you towards the door to leave him behind. 

The fifth brought solace and warmth. The fifth brought the end of the argument. 

The firewhiskey was almost gone, a comfort flooding through both of your bodies enough to loosen your lips beyond the hesitation you both held, and you knew if you drank anymore, all progress would be lost. Swiping up the bottle from the table and putting the stopper back in, you took it towards the shelf, feeling Tom’s eyes track your every movement through his dorm. 

You placed it back within the cabinet, its rightful place between the other vintage bottles, displayed proudly like it wasn’t contraband to be hidden, his arrogance never more prominent. For some reason, you loved that. It had always been one of the things that had attracted you to him, his intelligence, his confidence, his sexy self-assuredness, but it just wasn’t enough anymore. 

As you slowly walked back toward your seat, Tom’s calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, bringing you to a halt by his chair. Another soft tug, and he was bringing you down across his lap, arm snaking around your waist to hold you close to his chest. 

“Tom…”

“Babydoll…” His whisper was lost to the air between you, a space that was closing as he leaned in. Slowly, slowly, giving you time to pull away, but you couldn't. Everything about him was your weakness, you’d never been able to leave him, not since the day you met him all those years ago, and you’d never be able to leave him now. “Let me back in. Love me again.”

“I do still love you, Tommy.”

“Then let it be enough. Trust that I’ll do whatever it takes.” His lips met your cheek, suddenly, firmly, over far too quickly as he rested his head on your own. “I know I’m hard to love, but if you do love me too, then please trust me.” 

Another kiss, your hand cupping his jaw, a whimper slipping free as he pulled back again. 

“Have some faith in me.” 

Another kiss.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Kiss me, Tommy.” You sighed, tugging him forward and crashing your lips against his. He didn’t hold back, mouth slanting with your own as he sat up in the chair, holding you tighter to his body. His mouth was insistent, forceful and commanding just like every other part of him, lips coaxing your own apart until you were panting softly into his mouth, his tongue slipping through to tease your own. 

He tasted of whiskey, faint traces of coffee and sugar, a heady mix that you were drowning in. His hands traced slowly across your body, dragging and gripping, tracing like he was trying to memorise you, in case it was the last time he ever got the chance. 

You wanted more, you needed more, hands in his hair, messing up all those pretty curls and tugging him closer as you tried to twist in his lap. Unsuccessful, your legs still dangling over one of his as you sat sideways, a whine slipping free. To get more you’d have to stand, your hand raking seductively down his chest, nails scratching through the fabric of his shirt. You stood, or tried to, barely making it onto shaking feet before he was nipping at your lip with a cut-off grunt and tugging you right back into his body. 

In one swift moment he was standing, cradling you sideways in his arms and carrying you across the room. A second later, you were lay on the bed, head pillowed by the quilts as he finally pulled back. 

Those hands kept exploring, knees bracketing your body as he pushed your shirt up, up, up. He kissed at every newly exposed patch of skin, all across your stomach and over your breasts, reverent and tender, tongue swiping across your skin until you shivered, lips promising his love into your flesh. Until, you were sat up, slipping the top over your arms and letting him cast it away to the floor, his mouth working across your jaw, head tipped back to let him. 

Your own hands went to his back, scratching down until you caught the hem, far less care and far more desperation as you yanked and tugged, pulling at the shirt until he was reaching behind his head to help you strip him of it, your fingertips falling back to the bare skin of his chest. Firm, warm muscles twitched under your touch, your back hitting the bed again as his mouth collided with your own, backed into the sheets and surrounded by every inch of him, his presence filling the room, filling the air you breathed. 

“Tom…”

His grip shifted, one hand leaving the bedding to skim across your hip, under your body to the flat of your back, and lower. Cupping your arse he lifted your hips, just enough to slot himself between, and oh, delicious pleasure as his hips rocked into your own. Straining through the thick denim of his jeans, Tom pressed his hard cock into you, dragging every torturously clothed inch over your damp centre, ruined panties catching on the material and twisting, making it all the more thrilling. 

He did it again, and again, your bodies rolling together, clothes the only barrier keeping you apart as his mouth claimed your own. Moans and whimpers bounced off of every wall, each deep, grunted sound he let out was like a high, ricocheting along your body and making your head spin. 

“Fucking hell, babydoll,” His words were choked out, foreheads slick where they pressed together, panting breaths washing over your cheeks as he kept you moving against him, even as you became weak, even as the pleasure made you tremble, nearing that precipice already. “You’d walk away from this? Don’t you feel the way I do? You’re in my blood like a goddamn drug.”

Then, it was all ripped away, a pathetic wail falling from you as hot pleasure became cold disappointment, your hips dropped back to the bed. One of your shaking hands was cupped in his own as he pulled away, enough to sit up, kneeling between your spread thighs and dragging your hand to his chest. 

Under solid muscle, his heart pounded, fast and irregular, beating like a drum. “For you, alright? This beats for you, and you alone.”

Like a knife through the tension, the haze was severed, a refreshing touch of cold on your sex-addled mind. Climbing up, into his lap as his hands gripped your hips, your own reached for his face, tugging him into the most tender and loving kiss you could muster in the heat of the moment. 

His tongue slides over your own, your nails rake down his chest as you settle into his lap where he kneels, both of his hands kneading your ass. He shudders, your fingers grazing along the defined lines of his abs, and his breathing starts to shallow as your fingers press along the bulge in his jeans. 

Bucking up, his lips stop working your own, letting you take control of the kiss as his strength starts to wane, your teasing touches along his cock making him squirm underneath you. Squeezing him through the denim, he moans into your mouth, loud and unashamed, and your smirk makes him bite at your lower lip until you gasp. 

“I’m— fuck, I’m really trying to be romantic here, to make love to you, take it slow. You’re making that real fuckin’ hard for me.”

“I can feel how hard I’m making it for you, Tommy.”

It was unfair, perhaps, to taunt him so much when he was only doing what you’d asked, to show his affection rather than just assume you knew, to love you properly, but that's not what you wanted right now. Right now, as you’d stared him in the eye and faced the possibility of losing him, you just wanted him, in his rawest form. 

“Tom, baby—”

“Stop teasing me.” He all but growled the words, hips rolling into your palm now as you squeezed with rhythm, one of his hands slipping beneath the layers of your clothes, sliding over your ass from behind until one fingertip circled your dripping entrance. “Stop teasing me, or you won’t come for hours, do you hear me? I’ll make you cry and beg and scream, I’ll drive you to the edge of your goddamn sanity the way you make me, and maybe I won’t even let you come then.”

With those final words, he plunged a single digit inside of you, your back arching against his chest as he hummed, lips tearing apart as your body bowed to his. Pumping slowly, he left peppered kisses along your exposed collarbones, his other hand trailing teasingly up your spine, undoing the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. 

Jerking it free from your body shakily, he let out a primal noise as you threw it away, lips wrapping around one nipple, teeth tugging the taut bud. 

“Oh, fuck, Tommy…”

“That’s right, doll. Moan my fucking name.” He did it again, a second finger slipping inside of you, chasing out every sentient thought you had. 

Your fingers were shaking as you reached for his jeans, tugging at the button and zipper until you could get them down. Finally, you pulled him free from the confines, and relished in the sound he made against your skin as you swept your thumb over the dripping head of his cock. 

Sitting there, half in his lap as he finally brought you closer and closer to your ruined orgasm, you pumped his cock slowly, nuzzling your nose against his own, feeling the beat of his heart against your hand on his neck. Steady, thumping, a beat just for you as he promised. 

His skin was wet under your touch, hot and soft and slick, your fist sliding over him, twisting just how you knew he liked. He may know your body like the back of his own hand, but you knew him too. You knew every trick that made him weak, every touch and spot that you could exploit to bring him to his knees before you, if you so wished. Tom Riddle may scare everyone away, may put on his façade to the world, but he was your lover, your heart and soul, and he bared himself to you alone in this vulnerability. 

Tracing your thumb over the head, you squeezed his cock, another bead of precum, dribbling from the slit and lubricating his skin under your palm. His mouth left your skin, head tilted back. Those pretty brown curls were already plastered to his forehead, sex and love hanging heavy in the hot air, and when your eyes locked with his half-lidded ones, you knew you weren’t going anywhere. 

Like a silent oath, one he could read in your gaze, he knew it too. It would never be so easy to leave, to walk away from him, from this. Things may need to change, but you’d work through them together, because you couldn't just leave him. 

Your lips slammed together once more, passion and promise, sealed between your mouths as he moaned your name against your tongue. 

It was just like that, with his body swearing his dedication into your flesh with every touch that you came, crying his name as you unravelled around his fingers, letting him whisper and coax you through it. Your body was shaking in his, leaning into him for support, his lips at your temple. 

“Was that good, doll?”

“So good, Tommy.” Your breathless bliss was short-lived, before you could process it, he was pushing you backwards one hand on your chest firmly pressing you into the sheets, and a smirk on his lips as he looked down at you. 

“Good, it’s only getting better from here.”

His movements showed no gentleness as he tore at the rest of your clothing, your body half dragged down the bed as he stripped you bare. Heat roared through your veins and a blush coated your cheeks, the same way it always did when he manhandled you in such ways. He stripped off his own clothes, nearly tearing the fabric from his body until he was as gloriously naked as you were, every inch of pale, scarred, perfect flesh exposed to you. 

His grip on your thighs was bruising as he pressed them apart, hardly giving your foggy mind a moment to process, giving your body no chance to truly settle, before he was on his stomach before you, tongue swiping up the evidence of the orgasm he’d just wrung from you in his lap. 

You jolted, one hand flying to his hair as the other gripped the sheets in your fingertips, a scream on your lips as he lapped the flat of his tongue across your sensitive clit. “Tom, oh, fuck!”

He moaned in response, the feeling buzzing across your skin as your hips ground up against his face, every part of your scrabbling for purchase as you sank into the pleasure of it. He went again and again, fingers gripping your thighs, holding them parted for him, before finally, he sucked your clit between his lips, and you sobbed out an attempt at his name. 

“Tom, fuck, fuck— I can’t—”

“Oh, let’s not lie, doll.” He pulled back, a sharp smack across your clit, a skittering pain that made you clench around nothing, so hard you swore you’d cramp, “We both know you can, and you will. You’ll come all night if I decide it. Now, be a good girl.”

“You’ll be the death of me, Tom Riddle.” Your words were stuttered out between heavy, panted breaths, and he chuckled as he resumed his work. The dark declarations of adoration were always something he had loved, especially when he had you on his tongue, driving you mad. 

Over and over he worked, kissing, licking, sucking, biting, until your eyes were rolled back in your head, writhing in the sheets, dripping just for him to lap it up, his name like a mantra, all you could think of. Your climax teetered on the brink, your hips rolled up unto his face, chasing with such wanton need that all shame went out of the window and your fingers twisted where they were buried in his dark hair. 

“Tom, I’m—”

“Gonna’ come? You there already, doll?” You would feel embarrassed for his taunts if you weren’t so needy, like a bitch in heat, and you just nodded. A whine slipped free as he pulled back, tears in your eyes threatening to come free as you were denied once again. The bed dipped, and before you could curse, before you could hate him for taking it all away again, his thick cock parted your folds, slamming into you in one quick thrust, and you exploded. 

His hips rocked, ever so gently, dragging out your orgasm until the flutters of it faded, leaving only blissful peace in its wake. Your hands hooked under his arms as he fisted the bedding on either side of your head, kisses left on your collarbones until your body finally calmed down, and he let his mouth trail up to your own, lips brushing. 

“You belong to me, do you understand that? Just like I belong to you.” His body shifted, hips rolling back, until he was barely inside of you anymore, only for a single, deep thrust to have you crying his name, digging your nails into his flesh, praying for anything. “I’m all yours.” 

Another thrust, another cry, scratches down his back that made him hiss in excitement. 

“I don’t care how I prove it to you, I’ll carve your name into my goddamn skin if I must, whatever it takes for you to see it.”

He kept it up, the deep pace, the meaningful words, all whispered into your ear as he sucked bruises into your skin, marking you as his the way he promised he’d mark himself too. Your love with him was brutal, it was harsh and sometimes cold, but nobody loved hotter than Tom did either. 

If you asked him to, there’s no line he wouldn't cross, nothing he wouldn't do for you, and his dedication showed. It showed in the way he fucked you, holding your gaze and stopping until you looked back to him, fighting the roll of your eyes to the back of your head, or the shaking of your body so hard you could barely breathe. It showed in the hand that slipped up your skin, fingers sealing around your throat as he began to lose control, fucking without sense as he chased his own high, your core squeezing around him so tight he could barely spit out his curses and praise before losing to the end too. 

It showed in the way he hugged your body to his, skin to skin, everywhere you touched as his release filled you, dripping and escaping around his cock as he fucked the both of you through the final moments of shared ecstasy. 

It showed in the way he collapsed down on top of you, all walls gone in these few moments, shaking as much as you were as his body smothered your own. Your hand in his damp hair, the other stroking up and down his back as he continued to whisper mindless adoration and poetic love in your skin, kisses and touches that made you understand his devoted worship. 

“Tommy…”

“Right here, doll. M’right here with you, I’m all yours.”

He lifted himself at last, balanced on one weak elbow to look at you, smiling in that way only you ever saw as you tentatively brushed plastered curls away from his forehead. He leaned in, a peck left to your lips before he pulled out, wincing apologetically at the grumble that left your lips as he did. 

“Let me get something to clean you up, alright? I’ll be back.” 

You knew he would, he always was, and only moments later, he was reappearing from the bathroom with a cold cloth, parting your thighs much more gently now, and wiping your sensitive skin clean. “We forgot protection.” You mumbled, one hand coming up to rub across your forehead, too tired to care much now but a problem for the morning. 

A problem he didn’t seem to appreciate, only smirking as he cleaned himself off, before pushing one hand over your stomach. “Maybe I should knock you up, I’d like to see you leave me then.”

“Tom!” His joke was not well received, even if his raspy laugh at your chastisement warmed your heart, your arm thrown over your eyes to block him out, to relish in peaceful darkness. The dirty cloth hit the floor somewhere with a squelch, another problem for the morning, as he tugged the covers out from under your body, collapsing down beside you a moment later and tugging them up over you both. 

Then, he was peeling your arm from your face, rolling your head to the side to look at him. Gone was the smile, gone was the laughter, a serious look on his face as he studied you carefully. 

Tom shuffled a little closer, delicately brushing hair from your brow before settling a hand along the curve of your waist. 

“I like it when your cheeks get all rosy after. You look so pretty when you're glowing, just for me.” Your scoff was cut short by his lips, tugging you in until your naked body was pressed back up to his own, that palm scraping over your soft skin to hook your thigh up over his hip, and your arm lay over his shoulders lazily. “Something is telling me this isn’t over. Tell me I’m right?”

“I love—.”

“Tell me you’re staying.” He knew you too well, his grip around your waist tightening holding you to him like he feared you’d slip away. “Don’t tell me you love me unless you plan to keep doing it.”

His gaze pierced into your own, face still like stone but worry painted in his eyes, and you nuzzled your nose against his own. He bumped back, once, insistently. “I love you, Tom.”

He sighed, heavy and happy and bumped your noses together once again. A small smile pulled on his lips, and he nodded slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. “I love you too.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. I’ll still make you work for it.”

“I’d expect nothing less from a future Riddle woman.”

[cherie-doll]

i hope the day is good for you 🫶🏻 (english is not my first language) can you please write a story with cod men, about what would they do when the reader doesnt make it home from the mission - like they are waiting at home for her but she's dead.

thx for submitting love <33

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: They Waited For You

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He didn't believe it at first, there was just no way... he immediately got to verifying all his sources, even went down to talk to the other soldiers who had been a part of your team

You were supposed to come home, he expected you to come back to him, safe and sound like always but instead of falling asleep and exhausted in his arms like you should've been by tonight, your corpse was out there somewhere missing his embrace

He thought of how he could've prevented this from happening, yes he still blamed himself for anything bad that happened to you despite it not being in his hands, maybe if he could've kept you from going, why did you even feel the need to continue doing this?

There was no one else he cared for as much as he did for you, which truly said a lot of your relationship, but since he met you he felt an overwhelming urge to show love like he'd never done before, nothing else on earth deserved this dedication like you did

He deteriorated rather quickly, the mornings became grim and he couldn't bear to see the sun setting without thinking of how much you loved letting the rays caress your arms and let your eyes take in that golden light, you looked so beautiful in those moments

Ghost

Since he met you, there was finally a stage in his life he could think of purely, sure the relationship wasn't perfect, but this was something he could be reminded of and he didn't have to fight to keep it hidden in the back of his mind, he let the memories emerge to the surface and ponder about them

It had been something pleasant but it had been ripped out of his hands far sooner than he would've wanted, his fantasy that had become a corrupted reality, it makes him want to die, badly, but he always found a way to survive the deadliest situations, somehow he always did; as if he was cursed with immortality

But this? He felt no desperation urging him to dig out of the hole he was sinking into, the walls closing in on him from all sides and he made no effort to push it away, it felt sort of relieving being cramped and paralyzed since he couldn't see the path ahead of him, with you it had become so obvious and clear what he wanted but now there was nothing worth moving towards

Did life always want something from him? Just when he thought he lost everything he could lose, there was always something else being pried out of him, it was painful because it was forcefully taken away just when he was getting attached, when there was no foreseeable evil trying to destroy him there was some good, and you had been the best unexpected thing in his life

Soap

You were like an illusion he had always dreamed of and finally were achieved, a life so dreamy and ideal he thought would never be in his reach, but he had been permitted to have it for a short while with you

Within your time together a love so beautiful had bloomed, it was sweet how sublime it had felt, you had been youthful, still beaming with so much life within you but tragically cut short, those years had gone and went unused

He couldn't find the sense within him to comprehend why it had to be you, your death had been like a cold slap to the face, he had once again become aware of the disheartening reality he lived in, that nothing was secure nor did everything stay the same forever

Well, he knew about the forever part, but did it have to come so soon? He had to gather the strength within him to continue forward and he wasn't even sure of that, there was still so much left unsaid, so much still to be done, and how frustrated he was that it would all be forgotten and left unfulfilled

A sadness like no other would coat his existence, swallow him up and change him beyond recognition, his mind would be invaded by memories of you that will replay until they burned and ceased to exist... the day he ceased to exist

Gaz

All those days that he had spent with you had been the most fulfilling days he had ever experienced, he could remember the warmth of your hand, the weight of your body asleep next to him on the mattress, the security knowing you valued his affection and returned it

He truly felt the happiest with you and he wished to be encased in that happiness forever, but how naive it was of him to think it was possible for even a second, life was always moving and throwing hurdles at us that seem impossible to avoid, it's only a matter of time misfortunes come to us all

By simply contemplating and reminiscing, he felt grief beyond help and any consolation couldn't do much for him, wistful memories came to him and he could not sleep at night, all they did was leave a dark imprint on his mind

His caring nature did not change, he thought with time he could heal and learn to move on, but some things never change, and a sore spot still brings pain when pressed too hard, he would mull over this no matter how painful it was to do so

How he misses to hold you in this moment and kiss you

Roach

The news of your death came like a hard blow to his face, and he was left clutching his chest, eyes watering with tears as he desperately tried to cling onto some comforting memory in his mind

Restlessness follows immediately, even at night sleep does not come to him no matter what he does, the memories you shared seemed to tear him apart rather than anything help him, but he didn't want to forget you either

He knew he couldn't get you back and he had lost you forever in this life, panting and gasping he would awaken from his nightmares, the little sleep he got would do nothing to comfort him, and you weren't there to comfort him, to silently hold nor ease with your voice in his ear

His mind wanted to deceive his heart, make him believe you were somewhere far away but still thinking of him, that he could close his eyes and imaging resting his head on your shoulders, basking in serenity as he lost himself in the waves that lulled him

Alejandro

He was overtaken by bitterness and anger, his better judgement was clouded far beyond reason at the most valuable treasure in his life forever gone, the feeling of longing would become a hole he'd spend his days trying to fill with wrongful acts

All he wanted and needed was your touch to remind him reality was there and not as cruel as he thought, you had still met and loved in your time and nothing could take away what had already been done, he could live blissfully in life knowing you had known each other

But could he be satisfied with that? He could strongly feel the ties that bound you together still tug at his heart, and every year he remembered you, would set an altar for you and fill it with what were your favorite foods and things

He would stare at your imagine, remembering how he once had kissed those lips, stared into your sparkling eyes that watched him endearingly, your face he had held within his hands...

He could never have that back

Rudy

He missed delicately tracing your face, his fingertip raising softly over every curve and line, your silhouette against the wall when you rose that morning, early so you could still say your goodbyes to him and tell him to expect you back very soon, this one wouldn't be too long you said

You had left him a content man, he'd sit around the house and wait, he would take it easy these days because you'd be back soon, but he wasn't ready to withstand the tumult he'd find himself in

His heart had become haggard in the days following your death, he had absorbed every bit of warmth and clung to the last signs that you had left behind, he wished he had been there, to ease your last painful moments before death, how much did that train of thought torment him, day and night it ran through his mind

In sleep, he dreamt of terrible ways you had encountered death, surely, you didn't have a peaceful one, you were healthy and fit to make it, something terrible must have happened but no matter how much he wished to know the cause of your death it wasn't given, most likely for the best to remain unknown

Phillip Graves

He often boasted of having you in his life, it was such a fortunate occurrence when you met that he didn't think it was entirely a coincidence, he loved doting on you and hold you in his arms knowing you were there for him

You had already confirmed the date of your return, but that day came and passed and there was no sign of you, worse yet no message or word had been heard on your part, it was he who had to dig and find out that you had been KIA

It felt like a strong blow to his chest to have you ripped away from him, he knew the harsh reality and danger he was constantly under, he just never imagined it would get to you one day

You shouldn't have paid for his sins or errors, he wished you had stayed out of the battle, but you had your own life to carve out and ultimately it had been your decision

Much time would have to pass before he'd be able to say your name, for the longest time he'd whisper it, as if afraid it'd shatter his reality even more, staying in the air reminding him of what he lost

Makarov

You were forever gone from his grasp, how was he to cope with that? The fire that had warmed his insides, making every act of his be out of love for you suddenly halted, reduced to nothing but ashes and now he was left to sweep the heaps of it

The emptiness growing and knowing there wasn't a piece to fit or make him whole again like you, you were a unique piece, the edges weren't cut with delicacy that an experienced hand could replicate, there wasn't a mold to follow to shape something else into you

You sprung out of chaos and spontaneity with ease, there was a lightheartedness you brought out in him that brought out the best in him, all of it offered to you who didn't greedily take but lovingly returned

He didn't want to believe someone like you could just be taken away from him and have nothing done about it, just when he thought he could be tender he'd return to his old ways, the resentment stronger than ever and tied to his heart, obscuring and consuming him

Keegan

How despairing did this turn out for him, never had he imagined he'd lose you, all that time he had spent training with you, preparing for when the worst could happen and each time you had managed to slip away, always

Except this time you weren't fast enough, he knew those shoulders held up a levelheaded person, who confidently calculated their every move, it was unfair you had been taken

His brows are now furrowed, thinking this just has to be some sort of protocol you're following, faking a death isn't all that uncommon, maybe you were still alive out there, hiding away somewhere for your safety, each day he held the pitiful hope that you'd come back to him, then he'd nurse your injuries and help you stand back up

But moons waxed and waned and you didn't appear, and he couldn't hold the fragments of you close to his heart if you wouldn't be around to reignite them and make them come true again

His palm that had curled, clutching the remnants loosed and he had to give up that foolish dream and accept reality as it was being presented

König

Was it cruel if he wished it was you who had received the news instead of him? He thought it would have been that way, he often joked about the benefits you'd get when he passed, it wasn't supposed to be you to leave earlier than him

Relaxed he was sitting in the armchair until he received the terrible news, his breaths became desperate as he tried to get air into his lungs, he wanted to march down there to the field himself to collect you, to not believe it just yet

Maybe you'd be down there, hiding away in some corner like the sly fox you were and say you had managed to dodge the bullet this time

But he was disappointed with the outcome of things, he hated it when things didn't follow the path he set for them but no one could have controlled the outcome of this course, it had left a profound wound in his heart he wasn't sure he'd be able to heal from

You had parted without saying your goodbyes and now he wouldn't be able to live with that, to live longer still with you in the back of his mind

Horangi

He hated anything that brought the slightest trace of despair, and he dealt horribly with it, he ran on pure serendipity but now he couldn't count on that, was it by being at the wrong place and time you had been one of the lives lost, the most important one to him

He felt the urge to go back to his old ways of numbing out the pain, but he pushed that temptation away, it would only drain his money and everything he had worked for go to waste, he knew you wouldn't have wanted that for him and right now he just wished to keep the traces of you very much alive and present

He wanted to go about his days as if you were still there, the flower you planted, he tried to keep it alive and water it, the way you left your stuff around the house, that way it was easier to transport himself to a time when you were there with him, still at home

The people of the past are hard to forget but he didn't mind, he faced the situation with more determination than he himself expected, he was surprised at the resolve he had come up with

He had loved without regret, and with every passing day he'd be closer to reuniting with you again

Nikto

The only sound occupying the complete silence is the static in his mind, he's just numb, doesn't know what to do, what he should do with whatever emotions he's trying to detect, he must feel something

He was just delivered the worst news of his life, he should be breaking down and crying but he can barely even process the fact that you really are gone, he looses his train of thought every five seconds and can only stare forward as if in a trance he's unable to escape out of

He feels the long seconds drag by but he can't get up from his fixed spot on the chair, it's like a knife has been plunged into his side and pulled out, leaving the gaping wound pulsating softly, but he can barely hear his flesh scream out in pain, he can only feel the blood oozing out, staining his clothes and falling to the floor in droplets as he actively ignores it

He is hurt but can only clutch at it, he can't get up, feels far too comfortable sitting on this kitchen chair staring forward to the wall, elbows resting on his knees

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Twenty-Nine: Karl Heisenberg + BreathPlay

You were constantly reaching out for Karl's hand. Enjoying the rough feeling of his cussed-covered fingers against your much softer hands.

Karl didn't seem to mind either after the initial shock that someone was touching him. Wantingly touching. You walked hand in hand to meet with the family and sat side by side. Pressed into his side, but continuously your fingers were interlocked.

Hand in hand when you walked around in town, and as much as Karl hated the idea of being around less intelligent people than him. He allowed you to drag him down to the middle of town and walk around the shops before returning to the factory after a long day out.

That was not the only time you wished that you could hold his touch. You yearned for a hand to run smoothly down your back and sometimes rest at the bottom of your spine. You longed for the soft touch of his rough hand.

You are the exact opposite of Karl. You yearn for the touch of another, and Karl yearns to not be touched. Karl is okay with his lonely life before you came along, and he's just as content with living it how it is now.

Yes, you are confused because when you look at Karl, you don't see just a friend, someone to talk to when the nights are quiet, and the factory is slow. No, Karl is something else for you. A bright light at the end of the tunnel. He's what you yearn for.

So when the touch you yearn for splits and turns into a need that you have to fill, something twists within your mind. You start to stare off more. Staring at Karl's hands as he works on bits of metal together, or how he tightness things together on a soldat.

The one that as you biting your tongue and squeezing your thigh together is when his hands stretch out, his metal hammer flying into his hand. It's attractive all on its own. The bludge of his veins, the girth of his fingers, it all has you in a haze.

"Y/n? Are you even paying attention to what I'm talking about?" Karl's booming voice pulls you from your naughty thoughts of his hands. "Huh." You say a bit too loud, and he rolls his eyes, "Earth to Y/n, what's got you being a space cadet today?" He asks, intrigued by your glazed-over eyes and gap mouth.

Karl has never seen you like this, and he's seen you in many ways. Blood smeared across your cheeks. A mixture of your own and others, your shirt half tore due to lycans desperately in need of stitches. Bare skin that makes his heart race every time he catches a glimpse. Y/n had been off, and Karl had taken notice. Take notice of how your gaze drifted from his face, down his arms, and then finally landed on his hands.

"I'm just… it's all fine." You say to Karl, trying to push away the fact that you not only got caught but also have no idea you were spacing out. His stare is deathly; you're an open book for him to read as much as he likes.

"No… I don't believe you. I think you were off dreaming…" You shake your head, trying to push him away from the right path he's already on. "Don't shake your head at me now, buttercup. Better if you just fess up to what you were thinkin' about." You feel like a deer in headlights. Wide-eyed and easily scared off.

The silence is unsettling, "Oh, buttercup, you want me to guess instead." Smirking up a storm, you think that's rather a good idea, and then it's a bad idea. But there's nothing else you can do. If you say the words, then it's all too real, but if he guesses it, then it means Karl already knows.

"I think…" He says, getting up from the side of the table, heavy boots on the ground beneath you. "you have been very naughty…" With each punch of the words that fall from his mouth, his hands graze up your back like you've always wished for. "thinkin' about me, and my hands." You breathe in quickly. If it's due to his touch or his words, you'll never know.

"I bet you've thought up a bunch of dirty things." He whispers into your ear. His voice was rough and scratchy. "I bet you would love it if I just wrapped my hand around your throat and kept you right on the edge all night long." You moan as you feel his hand reach the base of the back of your neck. "Let me just sink my fat cock into your tight pussy, hmm, squeeze your throat so you stars." You whimper as you clench your thighs tightly, willing the ache to go away.

Then just like that, Karl is gone, walking back over to his side of the table. You're left like a puppy following its owner. Shock is written all over your face. "Oh, what do you want more buttercup." He mutters as he walks off and towards the direction of the bedroom.

You follow like a lovesick puppy would.

Completed on: 08/20/23

Posted on: 10/28/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

Resident Evil Master List // House Heisenberg Master List // Kinktober '23

[swanimagines]

SOMEONE TO BE SCARED OF | MORPHEUS

Summary: Your ex is an asshole. So Morpheus punishes him.

"If I can't have you, no one can."

That's what he had said when you broke up with him. Months of belittling and torment from the man you had foolishly started dating on Valentine's Day. He had felt like a dream, but by the end of February, he had turned to complete opposite of himself. His true self.

Morpheus had succeeded in talking you out of it, he had told you you deserve someone better - seeing how miserable you were now that he let you live on Earth with the man you claimed to love. Eventually, he saw what was happening, and you finally broke down in front of him when he visited your dreams. Morpheus managed to make you break it with your ex, and there, hell began.

Your ex's threat seemed just a childish outburst at first - but then it started turning into worse. Humanity showed its worse side to you. He came to your workplace, started spreading ugly rumors about you and even tried to attack you in broad daylight. You were scared for your life, you tried to go to the police and hide from him, but nothing seemed to work. He always found a new way to torment and bully you.

But without your knowledge, Morpheus had started to work on actions what he'll do to your tormentor for making you scared like that. He had cared about you for a long time, more than a boss should care about his employee. In a different way. He had changed a lot during his imprisonment, so much that he had eventually accepted your wish to live on Earth, he had let you to fall in love with someone else than him. Even through his jealousy. He felt like your current situation was his fault too - he should have checked the man's dreams, he would have found out his real nature from them. But he also knew it would have been creepy if he had done it. But he still should have known.

He was fixing that mistake right now. Your harasser would be left scared and alone, unable to get anyone else fall for him ever again.

"Who are you?" the man snarled the moment he saw Morpheus standing by his bedside. "Creep, get out of my house!"

Morpheus smiled, and the man got a look as if something snapped within him, as he lost all power over his own body. A partial sleep paralysis was an excellent way for things like these.

"I am someone you should be scared of," Morpheus replied. "You will leave everyone you torment alone."

Morpheus knew the man was desperately trying to find some way to escape, but he was glued into his bed, forced to watch Morpheus loom over him.

"I can make you suffer," Morpheus whispered. "Or you can end this here."

The man just stared at him, taking in short breaths.

Morpheus reached forward and grabbed the man's neck, squeezing it tightly until his eyes bulged out.

"This is what happens to men who mess with people who love them," Morpheus said softly. "You're a fool, you don't know any better. You think you can try to scare them?"

"No," the man finally squeaked. "No, I won't contact them anymore, please, I promise I won't."

Morpheus stared at the man, his eyes glowing brightly in the dark. "You won't. And if I hear you have, I will curse you with nightmares for the rest of your life."

With that, Morpheus was gone and the man was released from his paralysis, his heart pounding and sweat trickling down his spine. For a moment, he wondered if it was real or just a nightmare, but he definitely didn't want to find out. He got so scared that he dropped everything and moved out of town - and never again he mistreated anyone in his life.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[obaewankenobis]

born to die (pt 2) ; finnick odair

pairing: finnick odair/reader (afab but pronouns not/rarely used, no use of y/n)

part one: found here

word count: 5.3k

summary: you and finnick both struggle with your feelings as the capitol's expectations aims to tear you apart.

warnings: typical hunger games warnings (violence, death, sex trafficking, etc). oral (f receiving), mentions of throwing up, sliiiight alcohol abuse, semi-public sex but not really, angst, but fluffy towards the end. the smut is very minimal in this one sorry guys </3 18+ only, minors dni!

How hard could it be, going back to hating someone? Apparently, it wasn’t as easy as flipping a switch like you’d originally thought. And apparently, it was even harder when you realized you never truly hated the person in the first place.

But that wouldn’t stop you from trying. No, you seemed to take every flutter of your heart and every catch of your breath as a challenge, furious your body was betraying you whenever you thought of him for too long.

It had been a week since you’d even seen a glimpse of Finnick, a week of remembering how gentle his lips felt against your neck, how perfectly they molded with your own. A week of being tortured by dreams of the firm grasp on your hips, of his fingers digging into your thighs and traveling up at a tantalizing pace. You’d dream of his mouth on the shell of your ear, his breath hot and warming your insides as your name escaped his lips in a beautiful melody reserved only for you.

And each morning you woke with a frustrated groan, your fingers splaying across the empty sheets beside you, reaching for him and feeling nothing. And each morning you would ignore the hurt rising in your throat upon the discovery of his absence, and redirect it into burning anger, until now, a week later, you were blazing with the fury of a thousand suns.

It was fine, I didn’t have time to sit in bed and worry about the likes of Finnick Odair. You tried (in vain) to convince yourself of this, having heard from somewhere you couldn’t remember that if you repeated something enough times with enough force, your brain would soon accept it as reality. Like reverse psychology, or whatever…

So far, that strategy wasn’t working, and you were growing desperate for release. You were so eager to get him off your mind you tried to act like it wasn’t the worst thing in the world when your services were requested by the son of some Capitol elite, because then you’d have someone else to channel your loathing into instead of Finnick, who didn’t quite deserve the anger he was currently being bombarded with in your mind.

It was some stupid Capitol party to celebrate 50 years of President Snow’s leadership. God, if you could choose something to celebrate, that would be below the very last thing on your list.

Immediately your skin began to crawl as you realized you were still the talk of the Capitol, having won your games so recently, and that you’d be put in another outfit so revealing, so you could be gawked at like a museum display.

Fuck this. If you had to be paraded around as a sex symbol for the Capitol, there was no way in hell you were doing it sober this time, escort or not.

You allowed your stylists to do what they pleased, yanking your hair and slicking it back so tightly you thought you’d be bald upon taking it out, sipping, or rather chugging, a bottle of expensive champagne you’d ordered just before they’d arrived.

Your face painted a pretty picture, the picture the Capitol wanted, coated with thick brushes of makeup to erase the tear stains permanently etched into your cheeks, lips brushed with a deep red color to cover up the dryness cracking them. Made completely out of pearls with heavier ropes placed strategically around your chest and hips, this dress was just as risque, if not more, than the one you’d worn last time.

While of course you hated how little the dress covered because it was gross and blatantly sexual, you hated even more how certain parts of your body were on display. The parts that made it obvious you had been reaping the benefits of the Capitol: your glossy hair, your radiant skin, the healthy amount of muscle and fat; they were all reminders that you were being pampered up here, enjoying Capitol delicacies, while the majority of Panem was on the brink of starvation.

Despite being from one of the wealthier Districts, you had noticed how the tributes from the other Districts were. How sallow their skin was, how their eyes appeared sunken into their skulls, how their bones were so brittle it took little effort to snap—

You downed another glass of champagne.

You hated it, you felt disgusting, but there was nothing you could say as a member of your prep team dotted tiny pearls in your hair to complete the outfit. It was all a facade, all something to squash your true feelings down and present you as somewhat of a robot, incapable of real human emotion.

That was the point, you realized. They didn’t view you as a person, they viewed you as a toy to be played with. At least the champagne seemed to be doing its job, you thought with a happy sigh as a numbing buzz overtook you, lowering your inhibitions. If only you could feel like this all the time, so relaxed and unguarded.

Your inability to sleep had only gotten worse in Finnick’s absence; he’d been there so soon after it’d all gone downhill that your mind had immediately gotten used to the feeling of having him beside you, comforting you. You’d take back every kiss, every bite, every moan you’d shared to have him back, dancing his fingers along your skin in soothing patterns.

“It’s time to go,” a girl from the prep team said quietly, yanking you out of your thoughts— what was her name? You were too tipsy to try and remember, so all you did was nod and follow her out the door. Some part of you, the emotional part that wouldn’t listen to the rest, wondered briefly if Finnick would be there as well.

The party was so much more fun this time. You were blushing at the flirtations thrown your way, giggling at every poorly made joke, and even trying to impersonate the distinct Capitol accent with your “date”. He was handsome, sure, but in a weird, i’m-from-the-capitol-so-i-have-pompoms-on-my-suit-and-wear-gold-lipstick kind of way, and you were certain had you stopped several glasses ago, you wouldn’t be finding his jokes half as funny. 

But the alternative was remembering at the end of the night, you’d be forced to go home and pretend it was Finnick’s hands roaming your body or pressing his lips against your own. You stumbled your way over to the table serving various kinds of alcohol, from fruity cocktails to straight liquor, and poured a generous amount into your already half-full cup. You were so focused on not spilling anything that you didn’t notice someone coming up behind you until two strong hands wrapped around your wrists, gently but firmly prying the bottle from your hand and setting your glass down on the table.

“Easy there, sweetheart. Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink tonight? I mean, I could see you stumbling around from across the room.”

Oh, fuck this, you would know that voice anywhere, though it had morphed into the seductive purr he put on whenever he was playing the role of the Capitol Darling. You whirled around and out of the cage of his arms, the backs of your thighs hitting the table behind you and letting out a yelp as your heels disagreed with the swiftness of your movements; You would’ve been on the ground had Finnick not steadied you with a hand curled around your waist. But you wouldn’t thank him for that. You wouldn’t admit how his innocent touch shot sparks through your body, and you certainly wouldn’t admit how gorgeous he looked.

Because fuck him for being dressed so much more modestly than you, and fuck him for looking so good in what his stylists had put him in — loose trousers and a simple white knit top with a deep vee stopping above his navel. The style of the shirt was something you would see around District 4, and his hair looked as if he’d just come from the ocean, with a salt kissed ruffle that messed with his waves and gave him a perfect disheveled look that would make you swoon, if you still cared about what he looked like.

Which you didn’t, because he’d made it perfectly clear the moment he’d left you last week that he didn’t care either.

He looked at you expectantly, raising an eyebrow and you realized you’d been caught staring, which only served to make you more furious. “You don’t need to babysit me,” you shrugged his hand off, “Just… leave me alone, Finnick.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” the amusement in his tone at your anger only made your blood boil.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you began, trying and failing to keep your voice from rising into a shrill whine, “I don’t want to see you! I want you to leave me alone and—”

“Can we talk?” He blurted out, his voice so timid it stopped you in your tracks. “You sound upset, and you’ve avoided me all week, after we...”

“Avoided you?” Your laugh was dry and humorless. “Are you serious? You left me, Finnick! I was doing you a favor!”

“By not talking to me? We finally— I finally think that maybe, maybe I wasn’t so crazy, that maybe you liked m—” His eyes widened and he realized he’d said too much, too loud, because people were starting to get irritated by the two of you blocking the liquor table. “Can you just come with me?” You stared back at him blankly, which only caused him to break out in a genuine grin. “Come on, don’t make me beg. Although if last time was any indication, I’m sure you’d like to see me on my—”

With a flustered shriek to cut him off, you grabbed his hand and tugged him into the most private space you could find, a small alcove in one of the many winding hallways of the mansion.

“Do you regret it?” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth once he’s sure the two of you are alone. All playfulness has drained from his features, like the facade he’d been putting up can disappear now that he’s away from the prying eyes of the Capitol. You stared at him in disbelief, like what he’s said is crazy. He doesn’t give you the chance to respond before he continues. “Because I don’t. You needed me, and I…” He swallowed harshly, like what he was about to say next didn’t sit right in his throat, “I don’t want you to think that what we did changes anything.”

Despite knowing he meant well, those were precisely the words you didn’t want to hear. How could he not see how confusing it was? To say he didn’t regret it, but to also say it didn’t change anything, all in one sentence. 

“No, of course I don’t, that’s not…” I’ve dreamed of you far too often since I was fourteen, seemed like an inappropriate response, but you found yourself something entirely different. “Then why did you leave?”

You wanted to cringe at how small and pathetic you sounded asking such a question. Your gaze dropped to the floor, but it was too late, you couldn’t reach in the air and snatch the words back.

“You said you didn’t want it to mean anything. I was trying to make it easier for you.” He said that at the same time strong fingers grasped your chin, tender but with purpose, forcing you to meet his gaze. Just by looking at him straight on, you were frightened by the vulnerability you felt, like you’d been stripped raw of any protection you’d wrapped yourself in; no secrets could be kept now. And it didn’t help that you were so close you could count the individual eyelashes framing his eyes; the proximity made you quite flustered and incapable of forming coherent thoughts.

You were yet again consumed by neverending thoughts of Finnick Odair, thoughts that had been berating you all week in the back of your mind now coming to the forefront in full force.

How could you respond to that? It was you who’d asked for nothing more than a distraction, you who had made it clear sleeping together didn’t have to mean anything. But it wasn’t because you didn’t like him, oh no it was quite the opposite: you probably liked him a little too much to do anything casual with him. If you were to have Finnick more than once, you wanted all of him, not whatever bits and pieces he dangled in front of you. Because you didn’t know much, but you knew a few things.

One: You wanted to kiss him. Badly. 

Two: If you acted on that impulse, there was the chance you’d never get to tell him how you truly felt, and you’d be stuck in a painful purgatory of having parts of him but not all.

Finnick seemed to be warring his own internal battle as his eyes shot from your lips back up, and back down, and back up, until—

“Can we talk later?” You asked so suddenly, much to your own surprise as well as his. “I just… there’s not a lot of time here, and it’s not very private, and there are so many things I’d rather be doing…”

His gaze darkened at that, taking another step forward until your chest was flush against his, your back hitting the stone wall behind you. He dipped his head down to reply in a low voice that sent shivers up and down your spine, “Yeah? Care to tell me what you think is a better use of our time, sweetheart?”

“I’d rather show you.” This is a bad idea, the rational part of you screamed, and it was probably right. It was probably an awful, terrible, horrible, idea, but the moment his lips met yours, nothing else seemed to matter.

The way he kissed you needed to be studied, you thought. The way his nose nudged against yours and he quickly angled his head slightly more to the right until he fit just right against your profile. The way his hands immediately went to your waist, fingers finding their way under the many strings of pearls that dressed you, all so he could touch as much of you as possible. You were suddenly jealous of anyone who’d had the pleasure of being in your position before you, because how on Earth could the way you feel be shared by anyone? 

That thought only spurred on a newfound desire to make you different than everyone else, to make him feel the way you did, that no one else could even come close to the way he felt when he was with you.

His tongue glided along the seam of your lips, searching for permission as the two of you continued to trade kiss after bruising kiss. Each one shoved you further down a rabbit hole until you were certain there was no coming back from this, even if it went no further than kissing.

You broke away for a moment, not having the courage to look up, and moved your lips down to his neck, noticing with fleeting disappointment how the marks you’d made last week had faded from his skin.

His hands, which had remained innocently on your waist, were beginning to creep down to the (very short) hemline of your dress, fingers teasing their way past the heavy ropes of pearls that fell against your upper thigh. Your breath began to quicken at the reminder of what his fingers had done to you last time they were so close, and you hoped he wouldn’t notice the subtle clench of your thighs as his fingers continued their exploration.

Very unceremoniously he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of you, and you immediately tried — in vain — to tug him back up to a standing position, your eyes darting wildly from one end of the long corridor to the other.

“Finnick, we can’t, there are people…”

“Do you trust me?” He asked suddenly. His pupils had been completely blown out, staring at you with such hunger you nodded your head immediately; whether you actually did or it was just your lust-addled brain you weren’t sure. “Then we’ll be fine. Just stay quiet for me, okay?”

“Okay—” you broke your promise as soon as his fingers tugged at the thin material of your panties, letting out a gasp when his mouth came in contact with what had been left uncovered.

The sensation of his hot breath on you left as quickly as it came, when Finnick quickly leaned back to fix you with a warning glance. “Shhh,” he reminded you before he returned to your core, throwing a leg over his shoulder and forcing you to brace yourself against the wall behind you to keep you upright. One hand shot to dig itself in the depths of his hair as he continued his ministrations with his tongue, the other clamping around your mouth and muffling the soft moans emitted from your lips.

Finnick seemed to be enjoying your struggle of keeping silent, each sound that passed too quietly from your lips only encouraging him to plunge his tongue further at a faster pace, his nose nudging your clit and only increasing your pleasure. 

It felt good because he knew what he was doing, sure, but it felt even better knowing it was his tongue licking you, his hands wandering around your legs, his body pressing you against the wall.

It made all the horrible fantasies that had haunted you this past week seem like nothing in comparison to the real thing, which was all you truly wanted. You just wanted him. Everywhere, all the time.

And not just in the position you two were in now, as euphoric as his tongue felt, flicking and sucking at your core. You wanted the other things too. You wanted to wake up in his arms, watching the sunlight spill in from the window and illuminate his tan skin and bronzy hair. You wanted to fall asleep curled into his side, knowing that while you were asleep, he would protect you.

Still worried someone would walk in on the two of you at any given moment, you tried not to allow yourself to look down at Finnick too much (or perhaps you were scared if you acknowledged it was Finnick pleasuring you, putting a face to all the emotions he was bringing to you, you would truly be a goner).

“You were driving me fucking crazy in this dress,” Your back automatically arched in search of his mouth as he removed it to speak, tugging at the strands of pearls doing a poor job of covering the curves of your body. “Fucking insane.”

“Finnick,” you breathed, almost crying out when he resumed his indulgence of you and added pressure to your clit with his thumb, the pressure coiled inside you rising to new heights. “You’re so good, so good—”

And just when everything was building, just when you were about to cry out to the sky, not caring if anyone saw, he stopped and quickly stood up.

“Hey—” you quickly realized this wasn’t a teasing pause, evident by the sound of your name echoing against the walls of the hallway.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his shirt, he fixed your underwear and shoved your dress back down all in one swift motion, just as your “date” turned the corner and walked — or rather stumbled — towards you. Oh, fuck.

With a wince, you took several steps away from Finnick, just in time for your lovely Capitol date to finally make his way to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to him.

He was drunk, drunker than you had ever been (you were sure of that by how strongly he reeked of liquor), barely being able to stand even with leaning his full weight on you. “There you are, beautiful,” he slurred, his hand creeping from your shoulder downward. “Let’s get out of here.”

At least he (you didn’t remember his name) was so out of it he didn’t even seem to notice Finnick breathing heavily beside you, or the bulge in his pants that was poorly hidden by the dark color.

How could you go from feeling so euphoric to so repulsed, all in less than a minute? With a regretful glance in Finnick’s direction, you noticed how he stared right through you as if you weren’t even there. His jaw was clenched and his posture was rigid, but those were things only people who knew what he looked like relaxed would pick up on. To anyone passing by he looked unbothered, indifferent, as you were led away from him.

It was in the brief moment when his eye finally caught your own that the two of you hadn’t gotten to talking, and you had no idea where you stood with him. Would it be appropriate to just knock on his door the next day, or schedule a meeting through his Avox? Or was your interruption the universe’s way of telling you to stop pursuing it and leave him alone?

All those thoughts eddied from your mind the moment you stepped in the car that would escort you and your Capitol date home, when he decided then would be the best time to throw up, narrowly avoiding your pretty pearl shoes. With a little yelp of disgust, you jumped back, avoiding being caught as he continued to empty copious amounts of liquor that once resided in his stomach. 

Fuck my life, you thought with a groan as the smell invaded your senses, thankful that most of it had been done outside the car. With a wary glance his way you saw him leaning back against the window, clearly trying to recover from how much he’d drank throughout the night.

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be, only because he passed out before the two of you went any further than a sloppy kiss that made your stomach curl.

However wrong it seemed, you tried to imagine it was Finnick instead, but everything just felt off. This man’s hands were cold and rough against your skin, nothing like the steady, soft hands you were trying to imagine; his lips were wet and uncoordinated, unlike the delicate whispers of affection Finnick would bestow upon you in the form of warm, confident press of his lips against yours.

Yet again you felt slimy and used and disgusted, unwilling to even try to process what had just happened. So you did what any normal person would do in this situation: drink. While some part of your brain knew this was an unhealthy coping mechanism, the part of you that wanted to forget the night, forget your circumstances, won over, and soon you were tipsy enough and making your way up to the rooftop.

You let the ice of the wind hit you square in the face, hoping that if you withstood it enough, it would jar you out of the nightmare you were in. Time seemed to stretch and you were certain you’d been there all night, but in reality, judging by the lack of alcohol induced dizziness, it was probably an hour.

“Knew I’d find you here.” You knew who it was immediately, goosebumps rising on the back of your neck at the sound of his voice. “I thought I told you there was a forcefield already.”

The eeriest sense of deja vu overtook you, enough to rip you from your thoughts and turn around, trying to balance yourself by staring at the unmoving figure in front of you. 

“Hello to you too, Finnick,” you greeted in a flat tone, the mere sight of him draining whatever alcohol in your system remained. 

Your chest began to feel tight as you took in his appearance, your face flushing when he looked you up and down. He’d changed from his party attire into pajamas, and there was a tiredness to his eyes that made you blurt out, why are you still awake, at the same time he blurted out, have you been drinking?

“A little,” you admitted, and waited for him to answer yours.

There was a moment when the only sound was the faint blaring of car horns in the distance and the soft rumble of tires against pavement, city sounds that faded into nothing as the wind whistled in your ears. His gaze immediately shot to the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking at invisible pebbles by his feet. You suddenly felt embarrassed, because he’d probably had a much worse night than you had, and of course he couldn’t sleep because of that—

“I was waiting for you.” Oh. That was not what you were expecting, and clearly, it showed in your face because he rushed to continue, thinking he’d said something wrong, “I just… we never got to finishing our conversation earlier, and didn’t know if you were safe, and I know how hard it can be to fall asleep after…”

You walked over to him until you were inches apart, tilting your head ever so slightly in an attempt to catch his eye, which had returned to the floor.

“Can you look at me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your hand reached out, wanting to press against the planes of his chest and feel him, but refraining. Your hands simply hovered in the air, a mark of uncertainty, until Finnick made his decision. In a quick motion he’d reached out, wrapping his hand around yours and tugging it until you made contact with his chest, relishing in the security it brought you. The way you could feel his heartbeat, a steady beat of absolute certainty, that reminded you he was here, and he was real. His hand remained over yours, too, like he too sought comfort in the physicality of your hand.

“Last week…” he begins, and all you want to do is cut him off with a kiss, tell him you don’t care if he left, that he’s here now and that’s all that matters. But you don’t; you let him continue, and pretty quickly you’re grateful for that decision. “I lied. After you said it didn’t mean anything, I said okay,” he paused, like what he was about to say next was lodged in his throat, “But it’s not okay, not really. I… I want it to mean something.”

“Finnick, you know I—” You began softly, so softly, but he pressed on.

“No, please just… let me say this, okay?” He tightened his grip on your hand like he was worried you’d heard enough and would leave him. All you could do was nod silently, urging him to continue. “You mean more to me than I let on— so much more. I can’t pretend like this past week hasn’t killed me. I just… I needed you to know that—”

“Finnick,” you tried, but he couldn’t stop talking, like he wasn’t getting his point across.

“And I know it’s complicated—”

“Finnick,” you said again, a little louder and more earnest, but still, he continued.

“—and I don’t want you to think you’re obligated to feel the same—”

His lips, warm and soft and right, met yours as you cut him off with a kiss. It took less than a fraction of a second before he reciprocated, surging forward and wrapping his arms around your waist to tug you closer. Your hands found their place interlocked behind his neck, the soft hairs at the nape of his neck reminding you that it was him.

You kissed him with such fervor you thought your lips would fall right off, desperately trying to convey every unspoken word in your mind; Every point of tension between the two of you melted completely until you pulled back, breathless. 

“I’ve been a liar, too,” was the first thing that came out of your mouth, so quietly he was sure he’d misheard you. “It meant so much to me, Finnick, I… I just didn’t know what to do with all of it, I guess.”

His lips were swollen and red, and his eyes were glassy as he gazed down at you; every time his chest heaved it brushed yours. “I want you,” he breathed out, and while at first you thought it might be something purely carnal, he quickly corrected himself, “I always… I’ve always… tried to ignore it, but now I can’t…” he trailed off, struggling to find the right words, the right way to express himself without fucking up. “I can’t ignore it. I want to fix this, fix us, I want…”

You’d rarely seen him like this; struggling to say the right thing. Normally the words flowed through the air smoothly like a summer breeze, his point sliding across so easily, like honey. So to see him stumbling over his words, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, you tried to urge him to continue.

“I think about you,” he confessed abruptly. “All the time, it drives me crazy. I want to be with you, all the time.”

And you wanted that, too. You wanted to do stupid, mundane tasks with him. You wanted to do things like dry the dishes as he washed them, like argue over whose turn it was to take out the trash, like wake up and brush your teeth side by side, grinning at each other in the mirror.

So you said it as simply as you could. “Me too.”

The grin you broke out into was so wide your cheeks would soon start hurting, but you didn’t care. The elation in your chest was blooming, expanding until the warmth of it reached all the way to your fingertips, your toes, the top of your head. Every part of you felt giddy, like a schoolgirl who’d just had her first kiss on the playground.

This time, it was he who kissed you, capturing your lips with his own with such intensity you gasped. Kissing him now felt like something entirely different, like your entire world had been gray, and his lips on yours opened you up to a vibrant array of colors that nearly blinded you.

Your hands found their way back to behind his neck, his hands finding purchase on your hips and drawing you closer, wanting to feel every inch after being deprived of all of you for so long. It wasn’t just your body you were giving him this time, but your heart as well.

Before you knew it, he’d hoisted you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around his torso, craving the surface of his body just as he was with you. The kisses continued, though never going any further as he walked back to his room — thankfully he was on the top floor, making the journey quite quick. Your back hit the mattress as he continued his kisses, moving his way down and giving special attention to the spots he knew you loved on your neck, your shoulder, behind your ear.

“I don’t— I don’t want to do anything tonight,” he finally pulled back. “I just want to be with you.”

You nodded almost instantly, happy to just be with him, the kissing slowing down as the two of you grew more tired. He must’ve thought you were asleep when he called your name softly and received no response. You were in a haze of in between, too tired to respond but aware enough to know what he was doing as his fingers ghosted over your back and began to draw again. 

Finally, before sleep came crashing down on him, his fingers said what his mouth could not: I love you.

And when you blinked your eyes open the next morning you were face to face with a sleeping Finnick — he’d stayed this time.

Your lips brushed his cheek ever so lightly as you whispered it back.

a/n: thank you guys so much for waiting!! i wrote this instead of studying for my finals cause i'm silly like that. anyways i reallyyyy struggled w this one and wasn't sure where i wanted this story to go. i thought it was an okay conclusion but lmk if you guys want more! feel free to send in any requests you might have, i write for mostttt of the hunger games characters (especially finnick <3)!

tag: @justtrying2getby , @tqmqkii , @s-j320 , @imaegonstargaryenswife0 , @s-trawberryv-eins , @ruxjules

[volturiprincess]

Under the Moonlight

Felix Volturi x human mate reader Warnings: SMUT! Minors Skedaddle! A/N: This is my first smut one-shot, of course it had to be Felix like come on I adore this vampire. So enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Felix. That's all that's been on your mind all day. Focusing  on other things seems useless because your mind would wander back to Felix. 3 nights ago you had a dream about you and him in the Volturi's rose garden doing well …..you know what. And since then it has not left your mind, the way the moonlight accentuated every muscle he has everytime he ruthlessly pounded into you was such a sight to remember. The way he had this wild look in his eyes when he gazed down on you sent shivers down your spine , he really is a beast of a man. The luck you carry in having him as a mate, he really is something. You tried to occupy your mind with books, walks or even trying to take naps thinking that maybe that you would have that dream again but nothing could distract your mind from him. What also has not been helping your case is Felix has been busy with either guard duties or training newborns. Even though he can't be physically tired you can tell he is mentally drained, so you decided not to approach him about this yet.

But it has been hard on you to avoid this talk with him, yes you and him are very sexually active (Demetri has unfortunately caught you guys many times) but this was something else. Usually when you have that desire, Felix picks it up right away and he takes care of your desires in a blink of an eye. But you had finally had enough of trying to ignore it, so you decided to take action.

You were in the Volturi's rose garden in your short red silk nightgown with its matching silk robe that reached the ground at night waiting for him. You left him a note on your guy’s bed saying to meet you here as soon as possible. You knew he would get the hint once he saw you in this attire, if he could he would devour you right then and there with that nightgown on, it is his favorite after all. You waited patiently for your hunk of a mate to arrive which didn't take long because he is now standing there with the moonlight hitting him perfectly with his famous shark-like grin you love so much

“Well what a surprise my little rose, what's got into you tonight?”

With doe eyes you approached him and ran a hand down his muscular arm while looking off in the distance to create that aura of mystery and seduction. 

“Oh nothing…you know the usual, just needing some fresh and….. needing you”

“Me?”

You looked up at him still with those doe eyes and the way his usually intense red eyes darken with lust, arised that arousal side of you instantly. Without a second thought you pulled him into a deep kiss that was soon fueled with hunger with his animalistic side coming through and your heavy desire for him. He soon had you on your back on the grass still locked in a heated kiss and was desperately removing his own clothes off while he was pulling your panties down. He pulled away for a minute to look at you with with a look of desire that was easily mirroring your gaze

“I want that pretty little nightgown of yours on while I fuck you, alright?”

You nodded with eagerness for him to continue and he took that at his sign. He positioned himself at your entrance with holding your waist for support and with a swift movement he pushed his throbbing cock into your tight folds without a second thought. The way he stretched you out was such an addicting feeling that has never gotten old for you out of all the times you have had sex. He kept pushing himself until he was bottled into you, he stayed like that for a moment to prepare you for the upcoming movements.

As he begins to move, driving his cock in and out of your sex at a steady pace, he leans forward slightly so that he can look down at your flushed face and watch your reactions closely. He can see the pleasure stretched onto your features, and it only serves to fuel his own lust even more.

“How does it feel having me buried deep inside of you like this?

Barely being able to spit out words you manage to respond with “So…good”

Felix continues to thrust his cock relentlessly into your sex, knowing for a fact that he's in complete control of the situation and determined to give you the most intense orgasm possible. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air as he pounds away at your glistening entrance, working your clit with his thumb causing you to be overcome with ecstasy. 

His voice is rough and demanding as he asks, 

"Does it feel good? Can you even handle my size little rose"

Still not being able to be vocal with him you simply nod mindlessly. He glances down at your flushed face again, noting how wet your lips have become and how your eyes are rolling back in ecstasy with each thrust.

"Tell me when you're ready to come for me, little lamb. I want to hear those words falling from your beautiful mouth."

Words at that moment could not be formed or said for you were in a cloud of pure bliss. The way he was pounding into you left you speechless and a moaning mess which he did not miss. Felix smirks at your moans of pleasure and the way your eyes roll back as he continues to pound into your wet sex, driving home the fact that he's giving you the best fuck of your life. He can tell by the way your body trembles and quivers that you're close to climaxing, and he feels a thrill of satisfaction running through him.

"That's it, darling," he growls, "I know you love my size. Feel how full I am inside of you? How much I'm stretching you out?"

He leans down even further, bringing his face closer to yours so that he can whisper in your ear while maintaining his rhythmical motion. "Whenever you're ready to cum for me, just let me know my good girl”

At the mention of praise from him, you started to form what you thought were words but it came out more like whimpers and unintelligible language. You felt his hand come up and wrapped around your neck and he added a bit of pressure while he continued his ruthless pace

“Words cara” “I-I need to”

He chuckled darkly at my lack of a complete sentence but he was taking note of every shiver and whimper that escapes your lips as he continues to drive his thick cock deep within your quivering sex. When you finally break and release a series of loud moans accompanied by involuntary twitches, he knows without a doubt that you're about to reach your climax.

"There she goes," he murmurs, "Feeling it yet? That's right... Let it consume you completely." He slows down his pace ever so slightly, allowing you to catch your breath before launching into another round of powerful strokes designed to push you over the edge into a state of pure bliss.

"Cum for me, princess. Give me everything you've got."

Just with that you release what was the biggest relief you had in days. Felix watches with delight as you cum all over his large manhood, feeling the warmth of your juices dripping down his length and pooling on the ground below. He can see the pleasure etched onto your face as you experience the most intense orgasm of your life, and he savors every moment of it.

"There you go," he says with a satisfied grunt, "That's it, darling. Let it flow unrestricted. I love watching you cum for me like that." He continues to pound into your slick sex, driving his cock deep inside of you until he reaches his own climax, releasing a torrent of cool semen into your waiting womb.

"Feel how I fill you up with my seed?" He asks

“Fuck…feels amazing fe”

He chuckles at your response while he pulls out of your wet entrance slowly, allowing some of his sticky semen to drip out before withdrawing completely. "Now remember this feeling – knowing that I know how to fuck you good”

You laid there with a dazed look already missing the way he kept you full with his cock alone, I felt his gaze on me but he remained quiet so that the both of you could compose yourself after that intense encounter. Finally being able to escape your daze you look up at him and gave him a lopsided smile that you knew he loves

“Well look at that smile cara, did I leave you full and satisfied”

That lopsided smile turned into a smirk instantly and he caught the hint right away and responded both with his devilish smirk and with a simple response

“Round 2 it is”

A/N: And with that its over, in my masterlist I mentioned when I write smut, those will take a bit longer to write for the reason I dont write them that often. But I will say this smut will come along in the future. The weird coincidence i faced when writing this is all of the right songs were playing as I was writing this and those songs became my inspirations at that moment.

[mistriavalley]

Hello. You asked for Alex HC requests, I bring you one. That is my man and I love him. How about a friend's with benefits situation with Alex.

Friends with benefits (Alex x gn!farmer)

Note: Lmao this really feels like a smut version of my down bad headcanons

TW: 18+ MDNI, smut, masturbation, farmer receiving oral, missionary with Alex on top, unprotected sex

Masterlist

Not only does the new arrival in Pelican Town bring something to talk about, but the change also comes with excitement. Just that Alex could have never guessed how much it would affect him and he never could have imagined how attractive the new farmer from the big city actually is

Things got set in motion when you introduced yourself to him. The attraction you immediately felt for each other wasn't something that can be easily ignored. At first you two tried to keep it civil. There was some polite small talk exchanged here and there and you always made sure to keep a respectable distance

But then you guys got paired up for the flower dance and everything went down hill. Alex always found the dance to be too stiff and formal, but good lord...the eye contact you held was a tad too intense and don't get me started on the rare occasions where you did touch during the dance. It sent jolts of electricity through his body

"It's such a long way back to your farm and I don't want to let you walk alone through the forest. I'll walk you." How nice of him. How polite. Evelyn is smiling to herself at how kind her grandson is, but you and him both know what he's suggesting and it sure as fuck ain't a walk. Of course you say yes. It's more than obvious that you want him

And it's more than obvious that Alex wants you. No, at this point he needs you like the air in his lungs. If he has to spend one more day not knowing how you taste on his lips he will go insane. Your naked form haunts him in his dreams and leaves him craving more in the morning. It happens way too often that he wakes up so hard that it hurts

The moment you guys reach your front door, his lips crash against yours into a hungry kiss. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth and his hands cling onto your clothes as if you're the only lifeline that keeps him from drowning. Nothing happens after that though. You don't go beyond the kiss and don't invite him into your home, but it's not a rejection

It's a cat and mouse game from this point on. Alex is crazy after you. More than before. He loves the chase, lives for it even, but it's killing him. Everytime you steal heated kisses when no one is watching it feels like his body is on fire. Your hand brushes over his when you pass him and your eyes linger on him whenever you're close. It's fucking him up and he loves it

After every torture session you put him through with this (and you're not even trying, he's just that desperate for your attention) he ends up pumping his dick and biting back moans. Images of your naked body flash before his inner eyes as he reaches his climax. He can't go through a day without jerking off to the thought of you

Get ready for the pounding of a lifetime when you guys finally have sex for the first time. At this point Alex has so much pent up sexual frustration that he can easily last for several round, but he won't fuck you without appreciating your every detail

His big hands are grabbing and squeezing everything in their path as his mouth works wonders on your skin and between your legs. Once he's done pleasuring you, you're left a panting and sweating mess. You lost count of all the orgasms he has graced you with and stars are dancing infront of your vision. You're a sight to behold. Alex knows that you guys decided to keep this casual and platonic, but he's totally falling in love now

His pace is slow as he rocks his hips into you as he folds your legs up so that they're next to your head. His eyes lock with yours while he slowly pulls his dick out completely just to roughly shove it all back in, earning a loud moan from you. He can't hold back anymore. He promised himself to take it slow so he can relish in it as long as possible, but fuck that

But he quickly notices his error as he pounds into you. Alex hasn't had sex in a long time now and you've been teasing him mercilessly. Also don't get me started on how amazing you feel. He's basically melting inside you as your walls clench around his cock. He's fighting it so hard, but he cums after only a few minutes

Alex pulls out the second he feels his dick twitch and spills it all over the bed sheets. Pearls of sweat are running down his forehead and drip from his nose as an embarrassed chuckle escapes from his throat. "I'm so sorry. I swear, I usually last longer than this."

Babe, don't worry! It's low-key hot if you ask me. Besides, I've already stated earlier that he totally has energy to go for a couple more round so you're in for a long night if you're up for it

[kaleldobrev]

Pillow Talk

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: A common theme of yours and Dean’s pillow talks happen to be about having that white picket fence and apple pie life

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Just Fluff

Authors Note: I’ve just really been in the mood for my fluff filled Dean | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

What initially started out as two friends finding comfort in each other’s arms after a nightmare or after a rough hunt, ended up becoming one of the best things to ever happen to either one of you; despite breaking an agreement the two of you had made when you first met. When the two of you first met several years ago, the two of you made the agreement that you were never going to become anything romantic, keeping it strictly platonic – strictly business. But over time, the lines blurred. Lingering touches that were once friendly turned into romantic ones. Accidental brushing of the hands that once meant nothing turned into ones that made both of your hearts flutter, giving each other goosebumps. Forehead kisses and cheek kisses lingered, came more frequently – sometimes in the middle of the night out of nowhere. But these kisses were always welcomed, making the both of you feel safe, feel loved.

Neither of you knew when the lines got blurred, but they did. The two of you were no longer just friends or business partners now; you were lovers too. Always finding comfort in each other, finding comfort in the simplest of touches, and the simplest of affections – affections that both of you desperately needed, desperately craved.

The two of you were lying in bed together, your head resting on his shoulder with one hand resting on his chest in order to feel his heart beating underneath your fingertips. Your legs were intertwined with each other, and his arm was wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you in close. He kissed the top of your head, and you gently closed your eyes briefly at the feeling before making eye contact with him. Your hand that was once on his chest made contact with his face, his stubble always felt nice on your very smooth skin. “Hi.” You smiled gently.

“Hi.” He replied back, leaning in and kissing you. The kiss was brief, but you cherished those ones the most. The soft ones, the ones that felt like he was trying so hard not break you even though he knew he couldn’t. “Do you ever think we could ever do normal?” His question seemed out of nowhere, but it wasn’t remotely. The talks of normalcy was something that Dean had been bringing up a lot lately.

“Like white picket fence and apple pie stuff?” You asked, your hand returning to his chest.

“Yeah.” He said. “You think me and you will ever have that?” His question was a simple one, but yet the answer was a complicated one. Dreaming of a normal life was something that had been on your mind for as long as you could remember; but it always seemed so far from your reach. You grew up similarly to Sam and Dean; as your father too was a single dad who was a hunter. It was only you and him growing up, and he tried his best to give you the best life that he could despite never staying in the same place for too long. Despite him not wanting you to be a hunter like he was, it was the only life that you had never known, starting up on the road with him when you were less than two years old.

“I’d like to think we could.” You finally answered, hesitant in your response. “It’s just…” You sighed. “Hunting is the only life I’ve ever known Dean. Hunting is normal to me, not hunting isn’t.”

“Not hunting…it’s a weird feeling at first but…it’s something you get used to. Get so used to that…it’s almost hard to go back.” Dean started to explain, his voice almost sounding sad, as if he was thinking about past memories of when he didn’t used to hunt. There were at least two times you could recall: when he was little, and a few years before you had met him.

“But yet you always find your way back.” You knew more than anything how much Dean had craved a normal life, but despite that normalcy that he craved, he always found his way back to the hunting life without fail; because in a weird way, it was a life that he was meant for, just like you.

“Yeah but, I didn’t have you before.” His words had made you smile. You didn’t realize how much of an impact that you had made on Dean in the little amount of time that you had known him. Yes, you’ve known him for the past couple of years, but the two of you had only started officially dating a few months ago.

“Really think I'd be able to help you stay out of the hunting life? Despite me only knowing that life?" You asked, your question a serious one.

”We’d help each other out. Keep each other in check.” His solution sounded so simple.

”I think you’re gonna end up keeping me in check more.” You said, no longer keeping eye contact with him. Your eyes now fixated on the invisible patterns you were drawing on his bare chest with your fingertips. “This won’t be…equal.”

”Hey,” he began, tilting your chin up, almost forcing you to re-look at him. Looking at his face now, his features seemed so much softer than they previously did. “I know we’d have our rough patches. But, I really do think we’d be okay.” Again, his response sounded so simple.

”Dean –” before you could finish your retort, Dean had cut you off.

”Y/N, Sweetheart.” His hand moved to cup your cheek. “Give yourself a little credit.” He said. “How many times have I gotten hurt on a hunt and wanted to automatically go back out the next day and you stopped me from going?”

”But that’s…different. You were hurt.” You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you felt as though it wasn’t the same thing.

”I know it’s not the same thing but…Look, what I’m trying to get at here is, you are capable of preventing me from going hunting.” You audibly ‘Oh’d,’ finally understanding his point.

”I guess, I guess I never thought about it that way.” You said.

”And that’s what Sammy calls perspective.” Dean smirked.

”I know what perspective means Dean.”

“Smartass.” Dean mumbled.

”How is that remotely–” Dean cut you off again, but this time by kissing you. For some reason (not that you minded of course) this was always Dean’s response whenever he knew that he wasn’t going to win in an argument with you; kissing you to shut you up.

The pillow talks that you had with Dean whether you had sex before or not always centered around the same theme: normalcy, not hunting. It was talks where the two of you could have a realistic yet unrealistic conversation about what your lives would be like. You had wanted more than anything (much like Dean), to have that normal life, away from hunting. But the two of you had loved this life, grew up in this life, were meant for this life.

Even though normalcy is something that you and Dean talk about often, it still seemed so far out of reach, despite it being so close. Dropping the hunting life seemed like an easy thing to do, but at the same time, you knew, just as well as he did, that the two of you would still be looking at the news wondering what creature was responsible. Thinking how easy it would be to take care of it. “Not my problem,” was a phrase that you knew you could never say.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378

If you’d like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[little-diable]

Twin Flame - Dean Winchester (smut)

Inspired by the song "Twin Flame" by Brennan Story. I love love love this fic, and I hope y'all will love it too. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Months ago Dean had broken the reader's heart, a desperate try to protect her. But he no longer manages to stay away, needing to find his way back to her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, makeup sex, some heartbreak in the beginning, a very very happy end

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.8k words)

Well this road don't get no shorter, I would've drove the whole thing for you, my tank down to a quarter, and it'll be gone soon

„What is up with you lately, Dean?” Sam’s voice filled Baby, worried eyes watching his brother. No reply left Dean as he kept driving on, caught in his memories like a fly trapped in the web of a spider set to kill. He was stuck, without a way out, and yet, deep down inside he prayed that he’d never be able to leave those memories behind. 

Whenever he got a moment to let his thoughts wander, he had to think of her, the one who still holds his heart in her hands, even after all these months. Being with her had been something he had never experienced before, a new sensation he longed for like a man dying of thirst dreaming of any water he could drink. Loving her had been everything Dean wasn’t, it had been sweet, easy, it had been too good to be true. 

Whenever he was lying awake at night, eyes staring at the dirty ceiling of the motel rooms he and Sam found shelter in, he imagined her laying next to him, head resting on his chest, listening to his calmly beating heart. Dean still felt her weight on him, if he closed his eyes he could feel her right there with him, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, words that had been etched into his mind. 

“Dean?” Sam tried again, worried eyes flickering back to the dark road ahead, knowing that it would take them at least a couple more hours to make their way to the bunker. “Hey man, c’mon, talk to me, I can tell something is going on.” 

“It’s nothing, Sammy.” His voice told Sam everything he needed to know, exposing the hurt, the sadness flushing through Dean’s system. Dean’s green eyes were hazy, no longer filled with that special glint spurring him on whenever they were on a hunt, it felt as if he was no longer in the car with Sam, just a body without a soul tied to it. 

“Is it about her? Dean, you should just call her, reach out, it’s never too late.” A sharp inhale of cold air was forced into Dean’s lungs, teeth grazing his lower lip to stop his angry words from rolling off his tongue. He couldn’t reach out, couldn’t call the one whose heart he had broken, leaving her behind without looking back once, choosing the life with his brother over her, a hunter just like him and his brother – a woman Dean wanted to protect from being hurt because of him.

The cold words he had spoken to her were still ringing in his ears, how he had pushed her away, nothing but a stupid spiel Dean stuck to, in order to save her from a life filled with uneasy times, with hunts that would leave their marks on her. Dean Winchester would do everything to keep her safe, even if it meant breaking (y/n)’s heart, and his own. 

And my drink been feelin' lighter, 'cause I'm a lover not a fighter, and I seen that you caught fire, when you put me out

“Sammy, wake up, we’re home.” Dean’s rough voice filled the dark night, hand shaking his brother’s shoulder. It took Sam a moment to wake, hands rubbing his tired eyes. Slowly did the younger Winchester brother undo his seatbelt, halting his movements as he noticed that Dean wasn't moving. 

“What’s wrong?” Worry dripped from the tip of Sam’s tongue, watching his brother’s gaze flicker between the steering wheel and the phone Dean kept clinging to. 

“I have something to do, I’ll be gone for a few days.” Silence filled Baby, a silence so loud, Dean started to shuffle around in his seat, waiting for his brother to speak up or to start moving, already annoyed with the time they kept wasting just now. Dean was feeling antsy, nervousness filled his system, a sensation so unfamiliar he couldn’t help but curse it. 

“Dean,” Sam whispered his brother’s name, hand finding his shoulder. “Get her back, stop worrying about dragging her down with you, she’s stronger than the both of us combined, she’ll do just fine being around us.” 

Dean couldn’t reply, throat too tight, mouth too dry to produce any sounds, unsure what to say to the brother of his that looked at him with so much hope swimming in his pupils. Sam didn’t know much about the night where Dean had left her, he didn’t know of the words he had spoken, hurtful words that have left their scars on his and her soul, it’d be a miracle if she’d take Dean back. But he couldn’t breathe without her near, couldn’t live on without her by his side. 

……

“Absolutely not.” (Y/n)’s eyes met Dean’s desperate ones, body turned from him as she tried to close her door, without any luck, wood caught by the boot he had pushed past her entrance. A string of curses left her, jaw ticking in anger as her eyes found their way back to his, reading the pleading swimming in his pupils before she slowly took a step back, inviting him back in. 

Dean followed her through the all too familiar four walls he had once started to call his new home, the house they should grow old in, the house they should raise their children in, nothing but mere dreams that have evaporated into nothing but a hazy dream both could no longer recreate. 

“I always knew you’d step low, but turning up here is ruthless, even for you, Dean Winchester.” (Y/n) had her arms wrapped around herself, eyes not daring to leave his once. Slowly he sank down on her couch, right next to her, not giving (y/n) a chance to move away. Without thinking he reached for her hand, moving faster than she had anticipated, catching her fingers before she could move them away as if he was a flame she burnt herself on. 

“I wasn’t planning on coming here, hell, I wasn’t planning on ever setting my foot back in this house.” His whispers were torn between sounds reminding one of cries for help and a voice so quiet one could have problems understanding what he was saying. An angry huff left (y/n), glassy eyes focusing on the calloused fingertips stroking the back of her hand, pushing an all too familiar sensation through her body. She was trembling, begging for whoever was listening to relieve her from the pain she had never been able to let go of, and yet she had tried to keep on moving, without looking back once. 

“You broke my heart, you left me without an explanation, just your awful words. One day you were here, and the next you were suddenly gone. It took me a while to give my life a new meaning, to adjust to hunting on my own, but I managed just fine for the past months, Dean. Why do you have to return the second I’m finally okay on my own?” Her tears started rolling down her cheeks, dripping from her chin like a once dry waterfall regaining its impressive strength. With his other hand finding her jaw, Dean started drying her tears, heart clenching in his chest as he was once again reminded of the pain he had pushed her through. 

“I know, and I’m so sorry for being so fucking selfish, but I can’t stay away. Every second without you by my side is pure torture, you’re the only thing I can think of, no matter when or where I am. I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am. All I ever wanted to do was keep you safe, after watching you getting hurt because of me, because I couldn’t step back from a hunt we should have called backup for, I knew i had to get away from you. I can’t be the reason you get into any more danger. But as much as I hate myself for saying it, I can’t live without you, not any longer.” A heavy sigh left (y/n) as she looked at Dean, focusing on the pain filling his green pupils, on the lifeless expression tugging on his features. He was no longer the Dean she had once been with, no, he had changed, their breakup had left its marks on him, as much as it had left its marks on her. And yet she still longed for him, after all the sleepless nights she had cursed him for. 

“I need time to think this through, you have hurt me so much, Dean, so much. But I still love you, a lot. You can sleep on the sofa and we can talk in the morning.” Slowly Dean let go of her, pulling his hands away to give (y/n) enough space to rise to her feet. With one last glance thrown his way, she disappeared down the hallway, letting the door to her bedroom fall shut with a soft thud. 

And as Dean sat on the sofa he had once put together with (y/n), he couldn’t help but give into the tears welling up in his eyes. 

And I'd set fire onto, these boots running from the hard truth, that you don't need me the same way I need you

……

Dean woke with a groan leaving him, back aching from the uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in. It took him a few seconds to remember the past hours, how he had turned up at (y/n)’s place, how he had cried into his hands as she had parted from him. His green eyes shot open, finding a pair of all too familiar eyes already staring at him. (Y/n) was sitting on the edge of the sofa, wearing the same shirt she had worn hours ago. Only now did Dean realise that the shirt had once belonged to him, pushing a very welcomed heat through his aching body. 

“I made some coffee.” Her soft voice left his heart skipping beats, needing to cherish these moments should she ask him to leave in the upcoming minutes. Slowly did Dean sit up, stretching his neck and arms before he murmured a “Thank you, sweetheart”, taking the cup of warm coffee (y/n) pushed into his direction. 

“I didn’t catch any sleep, but I got enough time to think.” Dean braced himself for the words she was about to speak, teeth grazing his lower lip. His heart was racing way too fast for the early hour, and yet Dean didn’t manage to calm his system, palms growing sweatier with every second. He struggled to look into the eyes he’d see whenever he closed his at night, desperate to feel her close, pupils that were once so familiar, so loved, pupils that felt like nothing but a fever dream now. “I love you too much to push you away, but it’ll take me some time to trust you again, Dean. You have to accept that we’ll both get hurt on hunts, with or without Sammy. And you’ll accept that I’ll join you on all hunts I want to join, you won’t get a say about my decisions. Are we clear?”

He looked at her for a few more moments before his hand found the back of her neck, pulling (y/n) in for a bruising kiss. With a gasp leaving (y/n) she moved closer, arms finding their way around his neck, allowing Dean to pull her into his lap. The kiss was fuelled by their longing for one another, hearts begging them to never part ways again, unable to endure another wave of heartbreak. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back, whatever you need. I love you so much, sweetheart, I don’t want to live another day without you by my side.” Dean murmured his words against her lips, pulling her in for another kiss as his hands disappeared underneath the comfortable shirt of his she was wearing. Her breath hitched in her chest as Dean shuffled them around, pressing (y/n) against the sofa with him nestling between her thighs. Moans clawed through the two as Dean began to roll his hips, rubbing his hardening bulge against her damp panties. 

“Been dreaming about you touching me, as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn’t help but miss you, your lips, your fingers.” A soft, throaty laugh rumbled through Dean as he pushed her shirt up to expose her chest to his hungry eyes, lips finding her hardening nipples almost instantly, leaving his marks on every inch of her warm flesh. 

“Fuck, no matter what I tried, my mind always wandered back to you. I imagined the words you’d moan, how you’d wrap your fingers around my cock. Can’t believe I’m getting another chance to love you.” No longer could she reply to his words, (y/n) had almost forgotten the loving words his mouth and mind were able to create in moments like this one, set on making her feel the love his heart pumped through his system. “I need to be inside of you, it’s been too fucking long. Do you have a condom?”

“No, but I’m clean, I didn’t sleep with anybody but you.” She was almost scared to ask Dean if he had touched another woman, struggling to form the question that now rang through her mind, leaving her breathless. Dean pushed another kiss against her lips before he shuffled out of his clothes, exposing his twitching cock to her wandering eyes.

“Good, you’re mine to touch only, forever mine. I didn’t touch anybody else, just the thought of it made me sick, no matter how much alcohol I needed to try and forget about us.” With her hand finding its way back to  his neck, and with her legs slowly wrapping themselves around his hips, (y/n) chased his slightly swollen lips.

The sound of their moans leaving them in unison was drowned by their kiss, Dean moved slow at first, needing to hold back before he’d cum right there and then, no longer used to feeling her tightness wrapped around his cock. Both clung to one another as he fucked her into the sofa, with one hand placed on the arm rest and the other on her waist, leaving marks with his fingertips digging into her skin. (Y/n) arched her front against his, trembling legs not daring to loosen their hold on his waist, wondering if she was only stuck in a dream, or if Dean was truly fucking her, reminding her that she was his.

And no matter how hard I try, I'll never learn to say goodbye, you say it's okay to cry, baby that river done ran dry 

“God, how I missed feeling you, feels so perfect, so fucking perfect.” With his forehead pressed against hers, Dean added more speed to his thrusts, growing rougher as her walls fluttered around him, tensing every now and then. Dean had lost count on the amount of times he had dreamt of feeling her again, of loving her just like he had always promised he would. 

“Same, fuck, don’t ever leave me again, Dean.” (Y/n) choked on his name, hand disappearing between their bodies to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves. Both knew  that they wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer, it felt as if they hadn’t been able to let go for months, unable to touch themselves without thinking of one another. But both had tried to make themselves cum for weeks on end, unable to do so, since their minds painted pictures too painful, pictures they could now finally leave behind.

“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart? Fuck, I won’t be able to hold on for much longer.” Another moan left (y/n) as Dean’s lips found her jaw, kissing their way down her neck. It took her a moment to reply, choking on her breaths, unable to think clear with her thoughts growing hazy. 

“Inside of me, please, Dean, fill me up.” She felt his cock twitching inside of her, forcing her to add more pressure on her clit, crying his name as she came. Dean followed her down the edge, eyes rolling back into his head as he came with a “Fuck” leaving him.

Both were heavily breathing, not daring to part with their bodies still joined, just like their jumping hearts. (Y/n) murmured his name as she combed a hand through his hair, eyes finding his, “I love you Dean, no matter what will happen between us, I belong to you, as much as you belong to me.”