#anyways damn i hit myself in the heart with this one

[stevebabey]

Congrats on your milestone!!!

❤️ I would love numbers 30 and 34 from list 3 if possible- please and thank you 😊

hey hey!! thank u for being here! this was a toothrotting set of prompts for which i applaud u for dear GOD <3 i hope u enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it hehe - FYI: fem!reader

It’s a snot-fest, honestly.

Like anyone can blame for crying on your wedding day. Well, you call it crying but Robin had called it blubbering which might be more of an appropriate word for it. Some silly part of your soul sings when she tells you that Steve is doing no better, two doors down the hall from you, and apparently on his 2nd box of tissues already.

How the pair of you are going to survive the ceremony is beyond anyone.

You do, though. It helps that it’s not really a proper ceremony. There’s no priest, no officiant that isn’t just one of your friends. Along with a series of other undisclosed skills, Murray surprisingly has the legal power to wed you. Strange man, you think to yourself, but you’re thankful for it. Keeps the wedding among friends.

It’s small numbers, just enough of you to fill the backyard. You get married amongst the flowers, in the evening sunlight, just enough of a breeze to swish your dress. It's a perfect first event to hold in the glorious backyard of your new home.

Will had painted the bunting that’s strung above your heads, pastel and dreamy, fluttering in the wind. The bouquet in your hands was gathered by Erica and Lucas, who had taken the job very seriously, and found beautiful purple and yellow flowers from the nearby meadow. Eddie pleads Steve to let him set off fireworks after the ceremony, sneaking you a wink that tells you he probably will anyways. It's hard not to feel utterly surrounded by love.

Steve’s eyes are already red rimmed by the time you meet him at the altar.

His vows are short but bursting with love. He promises all the important things, like to always split the last pancake with you, to only use his puppy dog eyes when he really wants something, and to never let his girl go a day without a proper good kiss.

After your teenage adventures with alternate dimensions, the til death do us part comes as easy as air. And you mean it.

Despite all your practice, the kiss is a bit fumbled — too much excitement between the both of you. It‘s a bit alike to the first time you kissed Steve, way back when. This time, however, the clumsy kiss means something different all together. Steve has no shyness around kissing you; it’s his own excitement for the future trickling through. For your future together.

His warm hands hold you tightly. You don't even mind that Steve hasn't waited for Murray to tell him he can kiss the bride.

As Murray announces your official union, Eddie and Dustin yell like they’re attending a concert and not a wedding, hooting and swinging their ties above their head. Robin attempts to join them but can’t get hers undone for the life of her and instead, helicopters it around in her hand while it's still attached to her neck. Steve laughs as he steals a glance at the small crowd, the garden filled with love, and swallows, his throat thick with emotion.

He turns back to you, eyes shining, and presses his forehead down against yours. You feel full, breaking at the seams with how affection runs wild in your veins. You think you could live in this moment forever — could bottle it and drink it and get stupidly drunk with how in love you feel.

“Thanks for marrying me,” Steve murmurs, words wobbly. Words meant just for you. His eyes scan your face, the brown a bit lighter through his tears. You wonder if he’s committing this moment to memory as you are. “Wasn’t sure I’d have any takers for a minute there.”

You startle a laugh that comes out doused in emotion. A poke at the time he’d floundered for dates for more than a year after the break up with Nancy; at least, he had until you came into the picture. There’s irony in it, considering how you’d seemed to be enamored with each other from the very beginning.

You think you’ve always known you’d end up here, with him, one way or another.

“That’s okay,” It comes out awfully sentimental, even as you aim for a jest. “Any time, really.” You say, with an insistent nod and another wet-sounding laugh.

Steve’s chest tightens impossibly — he feels like he’s got no heart at all, just a cavity that you fill with burning hot love. The flowers dance in the wind behind you, your friends clap and cheer, but it all feels worlds away. There’s no room for any other emotion, just love.

“I have never loved you as much as I do right now.” He says, voice sappy beyond words. It’s genuine, the words as tender as they are softly spoken. It’s a whisper on the wind but not a secret.

You don’t need to tell him the same, he already knows. You remind him with another kiss and finally remember your friends, feet inching towards the makeshift aisle. There’s bouquets of wildflowers tied to the seats with twine. You’re in love.

“C’mon, husband.” You say, grin like starlight. Steve thinks he could hear those words forever.

join the celebration!

[oreosmama]

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

[itsbeeble]

I Think He Knows

SUMMARY: You've been in love with Joshua for as long as you can remember, yet you've never been able to tell him. Fortunately or unfortunately, you're pretty sure that he already knows.

GENRE: smut, fluff

PAIRING: Joshua Hong x afab!reader

WC: 4.9k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: uhhh, best friends to lovers, Hoshi being a snitch, p in v sex, brief oral (fem receiving), ddry humping, a bit of spanking, brat tamer!Joshua, brat!reader, tiny bit of angst if you really really squint, consent is IMPORTANT, tiny bit of alcohol, horrible flirting, multiple orgasms, idk this isn't my best work. It's also not edited so uh....good luck lol.

A/N: heyyyyyy 🥰. I'm not dead clearly, but my god has it been a minute. part of me is wondering if this series will ever be done but i'm doing my best. school sucks, work sucks, life is a bitch, and I burnt myself out. Anyway, thank you to Brie and Ally for betaing, much love kiss kiss. ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYYY

Your heart pounds ferociously in your chest, butterflies tumbling through your stomach uncomfortably. You feel like a teenager again, sitting in front of Joshua who has a boyish grin on his face. One of his hands traces along the bottom of his champagne glass, the other resting on the table and playing with the cork of the expensive bottle. You wonder if he knows how he makes your head spin with just a little smile and a glass of champagne. The thought doesn’t linger for long, and you let your gaze lower back to the practically empty plate before you. A few roasted vegetables remain on the plate, and you pick at them with your fork to avoid looking at your friend. 

Friends. That’s what you are. Nothing more, nothing less. As you always had been. 

Friends that took each other out to expensive restaurants, bought expensive drinks and expensive meals. Friends that—

“Soonyoung told me something interesting today,” he leans forward, dipping his head down to try and catch your eye. You glance up at him, but the fluttering in your stomach returns and forces your eyes back down.

“Oh yeah?” You murmur, thanking god for the dim lighting around you.

“Mhm. He mentioned you, actually.” 

Pause.

Kwon Soonyoung was the only person in the world who knew about your years-long crush on your best friend. If you could even call it a crush at this point. You’d admitted to yourself long ago that you were in love with him, admitted it to Soonyoung a few months back. You should’ve known better than to trust the mouthiest person in your friend group. 

“Now I’m curious,” you lift your head again, steeling yourself against the onslaught of nausea at what your mutual friend could have said. 

“He said,” Joshua shifts in his seat, running his tongue over his lower lip. “That you have feelings for me.”

Damn you Kwon Soonyoung. 

You nod slowly, lowering your fork onto the ceramic plate in front of you. The pounding in your chest has returned, hitting so hard against your ribs that you fear your heart will pop out and land right on the table in front of Joshua. 

“And…do you believe him?” You ask, failing to control the fear in your voice. Joshua smiles, and for a moment you let the fear wash away. Joshua Hong is the last person that you should feel afraid of. He was kind, he would never intentionally harm someone whether emotionally or physically, and he understood you better than most other people. You try to keep this in mind as you make eye contact. 

“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t at least hope he was telling the truth.” Joshua sits up, lacing his hands together and resting his elbows on the table. A spark, and you find the corners of your lips lifting. “Otherwise, my plans for the evening are a bit…a bit ruined, I guess.”

“You had other plans?” The champagne burns against the back of your throat as you down the rest of your glass. 

“Depends on how you respond to my question.” His eyes burn into yours and suddenly the table for two feels a lot smaller. 

“What question is that?” I already know, and I know my answer.

“Are you,” Joshua slides his glass to the side, “in love with me.”

“Yes.” You respond without hesitation, ripping the band-aid off and shocking both of you. Never had you been this forward with Joshua. You were always somewhat reserved with…everything, really. Past relationships, struggling with a subject, a pet passing away. You never wanted to let Joshua in and it made his heart swell that you did now. “I’ve— I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

Joshua sucks in a sharp breath of air, leaning back in his seat and smiling thoughtfully.

“I answered your questions,” you drum your painted nails on the table. “Now you get to answer mine.”

“Ask away.” Joshua waves his hand. 

“What sort of plans did you have for us?” 

The question was innocent— at least to you it was— but as you watch Joshua’s eyes darken with lust, you realize that the implications…may not have been as innocent as you had believed. You think he knows where your mind has derailed to, knows what thoughts have begun to plague you. 

Joshua tips back his glass of champagne, and you watch him carefully. You allow yourself to admire the way his neck cranes, the way his jaw is hit by the light. He drains the golden liquid in two long sips, wiping away the excess that rested on his lips with a delicate swipe of his thumb. 

“We’ll get to that,” he emphasizes the word, watching you tilt your head down and bite at your lip. “I have some other things I’d like to do before anything else.”

He flags down your waiter, calmly asking for the bill. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, disturbed by how the mild flirting had already gotten you worked up, but wait patiently for Joshua. You wouldn’t deny the fact that you were eager to see what he had in store for the two of you, what he’d planned on such short notice. 

“You ready?” He taps the table with one finger, already beginning to stand. 

“As I’ll ever be.” Your lips twist into a smile as he helps to pull out your chair, grabbing your jacket before you even had a chance to reach for it. “Aren’t you just a gentleman?”

“You should know by now that all I’m doing is the bare minimum.” He scolds, and you don’t pretend you don’t notice his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips. 

“Best friends don’t pull out chairs for each other.” It’s a joke, both of you know it. You’re fully aware that after tonight, neither of you will ever be best friends again. Whether he asks you to stay with him or not, at the end of the night nothing will be the same. This doesn’t, however, stop Joshua from scoffing and tugging you by the waist to come closer to him. You stumble, nearly falling into his chest had his hands not been right there to catch you. 

“I think you know,” his voice is a quiet rumble, “that we’re never going to be best friends again after this, Y/N. You’re mine now, and I don’t think I’ll ever let you go.”

You have to fight everything inside of you to not yank him down by that dark hair of his and kiss him in the middle of that crowded restaurant. Thankfully, it looks as if Joshua is fighting that same urge, one hand dropping down and the other sliding to the small of your back to guide you toward the door. 

You’re mine now.

It’s a wonder that you make it to the car without jumping Joshua’s bones, but it seems you have more self-control than you’d given yourself credit for. The whole ride to…wherever it was that Joshua was taking you, you somehow managed to keep your hands in your lap, rubbing at your palm with your thumb. From the corner of your eye, you can see Joshua. He has one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the center console. He glances at you periodically, scanning your side profile.

“You’ve gotten quiet,” Joshua comments, drumming his fingers while you wait at a stoplight. Your eyes flick to his, and you purse your lips. “Are you…did I make you uncomfortable at all? Do— do you want me to bring you home?” 

“No,” you tell him quickly, shaking your head. “No. I want to stay with you.” 

The response soothes him, and he lets his hand drift to your thigh. He lets it hover over your exposed skin, waiting for you to push him away before he finally lets it rest on you. His hand is warm, his touch sending sparks through your body. You swallow hard, leaning back against the seat and staring at the road in front of you. Would it be wrong to tell him you want him to touch you more? To bring his hands just a bit higher, to—

Joshua’s hand squeezes a bit, drawing you back to reality. The light is green now and your body jerks as he presses on the gas. He lets his hand drift a bit higher, grazing underneath the fabric of your dress before stopping. Heat begins to pool in the pit of your stomach and you contemplate grabbing his hand and putting it right where you need it if he doesn’t move faster.

“You’re a menace.” You click your tongue and Joshua looks at you with a mocking pout.

“I didn’t do anything!” 

He’s right. Technically he hadn’t done anything. You, however, were on the verge of doing something very…inappropriate if he didn’t knock it off.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” You let your hand fall to his, tracing the back of it with your pointer finger, and watch the veins pop as he squeezes for the third time. You’re approaching a very familiar street with some very familiar houses. “Are we…are we going back to my place?” 

Joshua smirks. “Small change of plans.”

The giddiness inside of you returns, your head spinning as you think of all the things he could (and likely would) do to you. Your fingers lace through his, your heel-clad foot tapping against the floor protector in his car as he pulls into your driveway. He puts the car into park but leaves the engine running. For a few moments, neither of you says anything. The air between you is thick with tension, tension that grows when he tugs you toward him. 

“Tell me now if you don’t want this.” Joshua breathes out, his lips mere centimeters from your own. If you tilt your head just a bit, you’ll be able to kiss him— something you’ve craved since the day you met him. “Tell me now and I’ll walk you to your door and say goodnight.” 

“And if I do want this?” Your eyebrow arches, a playful look in your eyes. “What then, Joshua Hong?”

His eyes flutter, exhaling heavily as he tries to keep his composure.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I think.”

When Joshua kisses you, it isn’t as rough as you’d imagined. No, he’s gentle with you. His kiss ignites a fire inside of you, the flames swirling through your veins and heating your body until you fear you’re burning up. He cradles your jaw in one large hand as if you were glass and you would shatter if he held you too roughly. His lips move softly against your own, parting the slightest bit to catch your lower lip with his teeth. It’s a delicate dance, almost playful, and you couldn’t have asked for anything more. Your head tilts, allowing you to kiss him deeper, and a quiet groan leaves him. You smile a bit into the kiss, Your hand sliding up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt and pull him closer to you. Both of you ignore the fact that your body is halfway across the center console, your thigh resting on the seat between his legs keeping you propped up when his hands become distracted by the curves in your hips

The two of you only stop when you feel like you can’t breathe, your chest tight with the lack of air. 

“You taste good,” Joshua murmurs, his nose nudging yours as he gazes at you with heavy eyes.

“You think so?” Your lips press against his jaw, and he smiles tightly.

“Mhm.”

“You should turn off the car and take me inside so you can find out what else tastes good.”

That must have been the right thing to say, because Joshua’s eyes darken in an instant and then he’s shutting the engine off, slamming his car door shut, and walking quickly over to your side. When he opens your door, you don’t wait for him to outstretch his hand before you practically spring to your feet, grabbing him by the sleeve and yanking him after you. He laughs as he stumbles along behind you, tugging his arm out of your grasp and squeezing at your waist over the fabric of your dress. Your hands are trembling, the heat in your stomach growing more intense by the minute.

“Struggling, pretty girl?” 

His breath against your ear and his lips on your neck sends chills down your spine and you inhale sharply as his hand wraps around yours to help you guide the key into the lock. Your eyes are starting to flutter, your feet stumbling into the foyer of your home. Joshua presses you onward, one of his hands on the small of your back and the other flicking on the lights. You spin around to face him, your hands coming to his chest and curling around his tie to pull him down to kiss you again.

“At least let me get you upstairs,” he mumbles against your lips, grinning when you whine in protest.

“Can’t wait that long,” you deny, already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He grins, backing you through the doorway to your living room. 

He stops your movements to spin you away from him. You face your window now, curtains drawn and the windows to your neighbor's house across the street staring right back at you. “All your neighbors will see us. Is that what you want?” He’s kissing down your neck, hands trailing to the back of your dress to undo the clasp. 

“Let them see.” You hold your head high, hands clenching into fists as the fabric slides down your body and hits the ground with a soft thump, leaving your body completely bare except for a thin pair of lacey panties. “Let’s put on a show for them.” 

“Interesting.” Joshua seems entirely unaffected by the statement, but the way he pulls you back against him to grind against the growing bulge in his pants is saying something entirely different. “Didn’t take you as someone to like being watched. I’ll have to explore that another time.” 

You mean to respond, words forming at the tip of your tongue but never escaping your lips as Joshua pushes at your shoulder, slowly guiding you to the ground. Your knees fold beneath you, your eyes wide and filled with stars as he moves into your line of vision and then away from you. You watch as he lets the curtains fall and cover your windows, and then he turns back to face you and continues to unbutton his shirt, loosening his tie until it hangs loosely around his shoulders.

“What are you doing, Shua?” Your voice is weaker than you’d wanted it to be. 

Joshua smiles coyly, leaning down until he’s at eye level with you. “I said that I would explore that at a later date, pretty girl. Not tonight. Tonight, you’re mine.”

“Yours?” Your hand rises to cup his cheek similarly to how he held yours just a few minutes ago. 

“Mine.” 

His knees hit the ground on either side of you, leaning over your body until you’re forced to lay back. Your legs stretch out to make his position a bit more comfortable, your knees rubbing together in anxious anticipation for what’s to come. 

You expect him to kiss you, your lips starting to pucker and your eyes fluttering shut as he lowers his face to yours once again, but nothing happens. Your eyes open to find him mere inches from you with that same smirk playing on his lips. 

“What are you smirking at?” You ask him, but he doesn’t answer. He shifts further down your body, laying a soft kiss on your collarbone that has your breath hitching briefly. Another kiss, this one closer to where your heart lays pounding underneath your ribs. Your hand twitches, aching to run through his hair, but the second you move to act on this urge he’s pinning your hand to the ground and glowering at you. 

“No touching.” Joshua commands, mouthing at the soft flesh of your breast. “Not until I’ve tasted every last inch of your skin.” 

He slips further down your body, leaving trails of soft kisses in his wake. The only sound in the house is the soft pop as his lips leave your skin and the heaviness of your breathing. 

When Joshua reaches the hem of your panties, he stops and trails his finger along it. The brush of his skin on yours is so subtle, yet you’re addicted to the feeling of it. So many nights you had cum to the thought of him tugging your panties down your legs, his eyes boring into yours as he lowers his mouth to your glistening cunt, imagining how it would feel to have him licking and sucking nipping at your folds. So many nights, and yet nothing comes even close to how it really feels. 

The second he runs his tongue from your hole to your clit, your back is arching off the ground and a loud gasp is echoing throughout your home. Your hands fly to Joshua’s hair despite his prior instructions, but he doesn’t seem to care as he drags his tongue and teeth across you. Your legs try to squeeze around his head, attempt to trap him against you, but he doesn’t let you. His large hands pry your legs away from him, squeezing harshly at your thighs and pinning them to the ground on either side of you.

He mumbles into your cunt with loud and drawn out sounds that reverberate through your body and have your legs jerking with pleasure. 

“Shua,” you gasp out, your eyes rolling as he sucks particularly hard at your clit. “Shua, fuck.” 

A loud smack rings out, and your thigh begins to sting. Your eyes widen, your head lifting off the ground at the same time that Joshua’s pulls away from you, his mouth dripping with your arousal. 

“What the fuck—” 

Another smack to the side of your thigh, and you yelp. Joshua raises an eyebrow. 

“Want me to keep going?” You can’t tell if he’s insane or not. You can’t tell if you want to smack him or beg him for more. You don’t get the chance to retort before he’s smacking your thigh again, harder this time. “That wasn’t rhetorical, pretty girl.”

Your teeth grind together, and one of your feet comes to his shoulder to shove him back. Maybe he lets you push him back. Maybe he wants you to fight back. Maybe he was waiting for it, because when you lean your body over him, he’s grinning maliciously at you.

“Who do you think you are, smacking me like that?” You hiss, and he pouts.

“Like what? Like this?” His hand comes down again, this time directly on your ass and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. 

“Joshua Hong,” you snap, but there’s no real anger behind it as you begin to grind your lower body into his clothed cock. His hands come to rest on your waist, watching as you try to form words and pleasure yourself at the same time. “If you keep pulling shit—”

Smack

Your body shudders and an airy moan pushes out of your lips despite how you fight it. Joshua grins again.

“What were you saying, pretty girl? If I keep pulling shit…what? What are you going to do, baby?” 

You can’t answer him, your hips rolling into his harder and faster as you approach your high. 

“Oh, baby.” Joshua coos, his voice shockingly stable despite how you’re practically riding him over his pants, effectively ruining them with your juices. “You’re a little desperate, aren’t you?”

“Oh shut up,” you whine, folding forward until your mouth is right next to his ear. Your moans and whines are right in his ear now, intentional on your part, and his grip on your waist tightens. “Feels so good, Joshie.”

“Yeah?” He’s quieter now, a low growl in the back of his throat as he fights to keep his hips on the ground. Fights to let you have your little moment, your little bit of control over him. “How good, baby?”

“Gonna cum,” your lips find the skin beneath his ear, sucking a mark into his flesh as your hips begin to stutter. “F— god, Shua, please!”

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” Joshua coos, a bit of pride welling in his chest at how fast you learned. “You can let go. Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”

Almost as soon as he says those words, you’re letting out a loud, near pitiful moan and your body begins to shake over his. A wave of arousal soaks into his pants, seeping through and beginning to wet his boxers, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen is cumming for him, moaning his name and no one else’s. 

Joshua can’t stop his hips from jerking into yours, pleasuring you even as your orgasm begins to ebb away. When he sits up, he cradles the back of your head in one hand, his eyes boring into yours in such a way that has you whining for him, clinging to his shoulders and turning away. 

“So pretty when you cum,” Joshua murmurs, lifting the two of you up and giving you a second to wrap your arms and legs around him as he loops around your living room to the couch. “Gonna fuck you now, okay pretty girl?”

“Okay,” you nod, but your eyes aren’t focusing and neither is your mind. It feels like you’re on cloud 9, and Joshua hasn’t even taken his pants off yet. 

He peers down at you, mild concern showing in his delicate features. 

“Y/N,” his hands are caressing your sides gently, pulling you back down to focus on him. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you promise, smiling lightly at him. “I just…it’s hard for me to actually, like, believe that you want me how I want you.” 

Joshua smiles. “And how, exactly, do you want me?”

“Wholly. I want everything. I want all your love, all of your problems, every doubt, and every moment— good or bad.” His eyes soften as you speak, and for the first time that night he’s the one that’s gone quiet. “I want you carnally, I want you to crave my touch and my taste as much as I crave yours. Every kiss, every intimate moment. I want them all.”

“And you’ll have them.” Joshua promises, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s a deep, lingering kiss. His lips part against your own, your tongues dancing together but not dominating each other. Your hands cup his neck, holding him close to you, and in that moment you don’t hear the clinking of his belt or the sound of his zipper sliding down. 

“You promise?” You pull away from him, your lungs burning from the lack of air. Joshua smiles at you, and his lips press against your forehead. 

“I think you know the answer to that, pretty girl.” 

And you do. 

He would never have to say it, you always know. Joshua Hong, in all the years you’d been best friends, had never once told you something if he didn’t 100% believe it, if he wasn’t absolutely sure that he would or could hold himself to it. He didn’t have to promise you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. Soft eyes, pretty smile, that little wrinkle in his nose. You knew the answer. 

“I’m gonna start pushing in now,” Joshua murmurs, aligning his cock with your entrance, shuddering at the seemingly never ending flow of arousal. “Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop.”

“Okay,” you nod, draping your arms over his shoulders and forcing your body to relax. 

He pushes in slowly, but the stretch of him filling every little crevice inside of your cunt stings and causes you to let out a whimper. 

“I know,” he whispers, “just take it all, baby. Take it all for me like a good girl.” 

Your body shudders at that, and you let your head fall back onto the cushion below you. Inch by painful inch, he slides into you until your body begins to convulse and try to force him out. 

“Baby,” Joshua grinds out between gritted teeth, “You gotta stop clenching like that.”

“I— I can’t.” You moan out, your back arching off the couch. “Hurts so good, Shua.”

“That so?” Joshua grunts and shoves the last few inches into you, relishing in the pretty little wail that escapes you. “That’s another thing I’ll have to make note of, huh?” 

He doesn’t give you much time to respond before he’s hauling your legs up and around his waist, one hand gripping the arm of the couch and the other planted beside your head. A silver chain dangles above you, glittering in the low lighting of the living room but capturing your attention just long enough to tell Joshua to start moving. 

“Can’t,” he tells you breathlessly. “Fuck, clenching so tight I can’t move.”

“I don’t care.” You whine. “Just fuck me, please Shua, please, please, please fuck me—”

He cuts you off with a sharp thrust of his hips, shoving his dick just that tiny bit further into you that has you gasping as the air is punched out of your chest. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” He groans as he slowly pulls back, his dick practically drenched in your arousal, and then thrusts sharply back in, sheathing entirely inside of you. You cry loudly, a tear slipping down your cheeks and your legs tightening around his waist. Joshua repeats the action again and again, drinking in the way your head lolls to the side, your tongue practically hanging out of your mouth. 

Then he begins to fuck you, just as you asked. He thrusts into you with hard, deep strokes that have you wailing and thrashing against the couch cushion. Your body is convulsing beneath him, and he can only watch like a god watching his worshippers, as you beg for him to fuck you harder, faster, deeper as if he isn’t already going hard and fast and deep to a point beyond your fucked out mind’s comprehension. The couch shifts slightly on the ground, scraping against your hardwood floor, but the sound is drowned out by the combined volume of your cries and moans and whimpers along with his grunts and little moans. 

“Close,” he grunts, his head dropping to your chest to bite and suck at one of your tits. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

You clench around him in response, your back arching off the cushion to get closer to his mouth, relishing in the pleasure he’s providing you. “S—so good, Shua. Fuckin’ me so good.”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he stares down at you. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over your best friend?”

Your body shudders in response, and suddenly your vision goes white. You can faintly hear your own voice, your own pleads and screams of Joshua’s name as he pounds into you, forcing your juices out of you and giving you no time to recover from your orgasm before he’s shifting his hips and driving his cock into a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. Your hand clamps down over your mouth to muffle the animalistic sounds that pour out of you, but Joshua rips your hand away, pinning it down on the couch.

“Don’t you dare muffle a single sound that comes out of you,” he hisses. “Not a single one.”

You don’t have the strength, will, or energy to respond to him. Not as his cock begins to twitch inside of you and another orgasm threatens to wash over your body. One of Joshua’s hands, the one that had been pinning your hand to the couch, moves over your hip, and his eyes stay on you as his thumb begins to rub hard circles into your clit.

“Oh my—” your voice cracks. “Fuck, oh my god, Shua!”

“Cum for me,” he grunts, forcing his orgasm back so he doesn’t cum before you, despite you already having done so twice now. “Now, baby. God, please cum for me.”

And you do. 

It crashes over you like a rockslide, rough and strong, and crushing everything in its path. Your cunt clenches around Joshua so tightly you fear you might break him, but he only moans out your name and begins to spill white-hot cum inside of you. The combined fluids from the both of you are forced out as Joshua continues to fuck into you, slowly now compared to before. Soft, deep thrusts that carefully bring you down from the edge until both of you have finished, laying spent on your now ruined couch. 

“That…” your voice is raspy. “Is that how you’re gonna fuck me every night?”

“Is that how you want me to fuck you every night?” Joshua’s tongue laves over your skin, pressing gentle kisses against your neck. 

You think he knows the answer, but you tell him anyway with a sly grin on your face.

“You promised.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[kromeihl]

Hii! Can i request a drabble of ken sato being japan’s spider man ? (Of the scenario given below)

(It’s like peter parker and gwen kinda of love, where the reader is like gwen or whatever you would like to present her c: )

That one scene where peter is injured and gwen sneaks him in her room and then tends to his wounds while peter is just downright SMITTEN and distracted like omg 😩. And then they discuss that he should stop the lizard (in this case the kaiju) etc etc. like that scene! (I hope you know this scene from the amazing spider man- 😅)

IM SO SORRY IF THIS REQUEST IS TOO LONG— i just love your work! And i got inspired to request this because of that post where you were like “omg imagine he was spider man—“

Anyways- love you lodes ! Xoxo

Omg I love the amazing spider man?! Seeing you guys request literally brings joy to my heart. 🫶🏼 Don’t apologize for a long request you can keep it coming, honey. ☺️ Reqs are always open! I’M SORRY IF IT DIDN’T TURN OUT THE WAY YOU WANTED IT TO BE😭 (Wanna read a Kenji fic on wp?👀 -> Bloop. Yes, I am promoting myself. Header by @/cafekitsune. IF YOU GUYS HAVE ANY IDEAS ON POSTING KENJI SATO IN A SPIDERMAN SUIT OR WHATEVER IN THIS STORY INSPIRED YOU TO DO IT, TAG ME RIGHT AWAY IF IT’S ON TIKTOK GAWH DAMN TAG MEMEME @kromeihl)

TRUTH BENEATH THOSE SCARS

-> SPIDERMAN!KENJI SATO X READER

WARNING(s): NOT PROOFREAD, Mentions of injuries, blood, a bit of cursing, a lil’ suggestive ;)

I type away in my laptop, finishing a project I was given, to publish soon. It was a newspaper article about Spiderman, of course. I couldn’t help but laugh silently knowing I have to act suspicious about his identity as I type down words.

I hear a loud tap coming from my window, I shook my head knowing it’s probably just some birds, continuing to type. After a few seconds a knock came back, a little louder this time.

I sigh, turning my chair to look, noticing it was him, Kenji Sato. I smile, turning my chair back as I continue to type. “The window’s open, Ken! Come in, I’m just finishing off this article.”

You hear the window open, no response from him. That was weird, he’d usually reply after you speak, cracking a joke or distracting you from your work.

“Ken?” You call out, about to look but still typing, feeling a bit weird from the silence. You hear a small thud, making you stop typing, looking at him as he struggles to sit on the couch. You notice the blood on the side of his forehead.

He could go back home to get tended but of course he chose to come to you. Is he really there for you to help him or something..More?

You quickly rush to him, hitting your leg on the chair in the process, falling on the floor. Kenji couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the pain on his chest making him wince.

“Stop laughing!” You say, embarrassed, quickly getting up to check up on him. “What happened?” You look at him worriedly, seeing the big scratch on his chest, that tore up his suit. “Kaiju attack..” He struggles to say, leaning his head back on the arm of your couch.

“Why the heck can’t you just sit properly?” You mutter, your hands shaking at the sight of his bloody injury. He chuckles, “You’re really scolding me right now? I need some help, ya know?” He teases, moving his hand to your wrist.

“I’m okay, stop shaking.” He smiles softly, earning a sigh from you as you tried to calm down. “Right.” You say, before hearing a knock from your door. I curse silently, searching for my mini refrigerator.

I quickly run to it, opening it as I grab a cold can of soda. “Here, uhm.. Maybe it’ll stop the bleeding for a while?” You panic, giving him the can of soda as he quickly moves away from the couch, hiding, just incase the person that knocked will come in.

I walk up to the door, glancing at Kenji before opening the it slightly. “Heyyyy, Ami!” Kenji furrowed his brows at your greeting, right, you were best friends with Ami Wakita, the person that interviews him way too much when he’s out with his other job, a famous baseball player.

“Chiho wants to play with y—“

“Sorry. I can’t I’m busy!” You say, slightly raising your voice, after an awkward silence, you lean your body against the door frame, one hand holding the door behind for it to stay in place.

“I mean..The project you gave me is just sooo difficult! I just need to work really hard and think. I need to publish it as soon as possible!” You say, trying to sound convincing. “I’ll play with Chiho tomorrow morning! I can babysit her, if you want.” You smile sheepishly.

Ami gives you an amused look, “Uhm, okay.. I’ll be in the kitchen. Do you wa—“ “I don’t need anything!” You quickly cut off, laughing awkwardly afterwards. “I could just bring it into your room—“ “Nope! All good, thanks Ami!” You smile, earning a nod from her.

“Uhm..No worries, [Name]. Good night.” She smiles before leaving. “Good night!” You close the door after, locking it. You glance at Kenji who was still behind the couch, now drinking the can of soda.

“Kenji!” You scold, going to him as you try to grab the soda which he swiftly moved away. “What? You gave me a soda, might as well drink it.” He shrugs, drinking the can again as you pull away.

“Seriously? Drink water!” You huff, walking to your cabinet, finding a cloth, towel, bandaid, and some ointment. “Says the one who drinks anything but water.” He retorts, sitting back on the couch improperly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You sigh, grabbing a chair as you place it in front of him, placing the things you got on your lap. You brush away his hair, holding it in place as you grabbed the wet towel and gently wiped the blood off his face. He winces from the pain, closing his eyes.

You can’t help but stare at his face, he’s incredibly handsome.. And knowing he was a famous baseball player, surely a ton of pretty girls would agree. Your train of thoughts cut off as Kenji smirks, making you realize that you’ve been staring for too long.

“Like what you see?” He teases, earning an eye roll from you. “No.” You say after, “Then you probably love it then.” He chuckles, making you deepen the towel on his head. “Owww!” He whines, grabbing your hand as he pulls you in making your upper body, lay on his chest.

“Don’t do that.” He says in a stern voice, making your cheeks heat up. “Gosh,” You clear your throat, sitting back up as Kenji moves his hand away from yours. “Come on, let’s hurry. You need to defeat that Kaiju.” You say, putting the ointment then placing a bandaid on his scar.

“Yeah. yeah.” He says, removing the upper part of his suit so you could tend his injury. You pause for a moment, taking in the sight in front of you, he slowly puts his hand on your head. “Come on, you could see more of that later.” He teased.

You slapped his hand away, grabbing the towel as you softly wipe away the blood. He sigh, feeling relief, yet pain still present as you move the towel around his bloody chest. He stares at you for a moment, your messy hair, pretty face, your hands so gentle as you help him.

“You’re gorgeous..” He mumbles, earning a glance from you, “Hm?” You say, gaze back on his wound. “N—Nothing.” He stutters, before clearing his throat. There was a peaceful silence between you, the sound of you wiping was the only noise present.

He felt his hand move towards your face as you start putting ointment on his wound, gently putting a strand of hair behind your ear. You freeze, shivering at his touch. He slowly puts his hand back, continuing to stare right at you.

You notice his longing gaze, yet continue, to finish tending his wound. After a while, you were finally done, him wearing his suit properly again. He groans, adjusting himself on the couch. You put away the things as you gave him small glances.

“Thanks, [Nickname]. You’re the best.” You felt your heart beat fast, walking back to the chair as you smile softly. “No problem, just.. Be more careful, okay? I don’t want you sneaking in my room all injured again.” You huff, earning a soft laugh from Ken.

“You should go.” You say sadly, “I don’t want to.” He declines. “You should. The city needs you.” You look away, feeling disappointed of how you were pushing him away now. “I need you.”

You felt your heart drop at his words, mouth agape as you couldn’t find words to speak. He has that signature cocky smirk of his, plastered on his face as he gently sits up, slowly moving his face towards you. You felt a hand on the back of your head as he caresses it gently.

“N—No. You need to go back to the city. The kaiju will— I mean, it might—“ You stutter feeling him slowly closing in the distance between your lips, his other hand gently placing it on your chin, his thumb brushing your bottom lip softly.

“Let the KDF handle it for a while, I need a reward for being such a great superhero. And you need one for being so good to me.” He says before closing in the gap between your lips. You melt into his touch, feeling your hand snake around his neck as he pulls you in closer.

It took a while before you both pull apart, panting for air as he moves away your hair from your face. “Bug boy” you mutter, smiling at him. “Hm?” He smirks, his arms slowly moving on the sides of your chair, leaning down as you move your body backwards.

“Pretty girl.” He smiles, making your cheeks heat up. You both hear the Kaiju screeching, making you both wince from the loud sound. Kenji groans, making you laugh. “Great timing, I was just getting started.” He sighs, standing up as he walks to the window.

“Stay safe, Spiderman.” You smile, earning a grin from him, he pecks your lips one last time. “Lucky charm.” He winks before putting on his mask, spiderweb coming out from his hand.

“I’ll be back.” You look at him surprised before he leaves, making you look at his figure, slowly disappearing into the city.

“See you, Ken.”

[themillsdaughter]

a privilege I deprive myself of

Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.

or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Talks of body image.

Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!

This isn’t ideal.

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.

You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.

Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.

This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.

“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”

“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.

“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”

“I don’t.”

“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”

Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.

So this really isn’t ideal.

“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.

Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.

The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.

Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.

“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.

For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else. 

In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.

“Hun? It���s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…

“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”

“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.

“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.

Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.

“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.

“Well, fuck you very much.”

She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.

Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.

You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.

He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.

She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.

The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.

“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.

To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.

The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.

“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”

“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”

She nodded.

“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”

You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”

She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.

“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”

Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.

There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.

“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”

So, hm, this isn’t ideal.

You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.

Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.

So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.

As a friend, of course. Truly.

The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.

After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.

On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.

You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.

“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.

“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.

And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.

All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.

“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.

So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.

“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.

Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.

******

You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.

“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”

“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.

“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.

“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”

It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”

Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.

“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”

“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”

What?

“What?”

“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”

“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”

Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.

“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”

“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”

“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”

The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.

Again, not Postmates.

“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.

“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”

“Uh… No. Why…”

“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”

She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.

Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.

Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.

It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.

Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.

“Listen, I know how it looked-“

“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”

Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years. 

“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.

“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”

“Melissa, the flowers…”

“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”

“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.

“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”

She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?

She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”

In love you with you. In love you with you.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.

The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.

You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.

“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”

You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.

She flinches, but allows it.

“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”

“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”

She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.

“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.

“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.

She raises a brow.

“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”

“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course.” You say without a thought.

“As a friend?” She challenges.

No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?

You let your hands travel down slightly.

“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”

She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.

“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”

Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.

Forse sarebbe più facile.

“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

“I know.” You say.

You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.

She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.

Now, the something more is clearer.

“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”

“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.

“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.

If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.

“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”

“Poor Gary,” you whisper.

“Yeah… Poor Gary.”

So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.

“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”

For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.

Heaven.

Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.

[librababe99]

Weathering the Storm

A/N: Hey Y’all! So I’ve always been someone who lurks, reblogs and enjoys the work that others put out on Tumblr. I have attempted to write things in the past but end up keeping it to myself or scrap the idea altogether— BUT after watching Deadpool and Wolverine my love for those two has hit me hard!  Anyways, here’s a little angsty blurb I wrote for Logan. 

Please let me know what you think! I'm open to suggestions and comments!

- Libra ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:*

Warnings: None.  Word Count: 620

The rain pounds against the window, a relentless downpour that mirrors the storm brewing inside you. You sit on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to hold it together. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard when everything feels like it’s falling apart.

Logan is pacing the room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You can see the tension in his muscles, the barely contained fury that radiates off him in waves. He hasn’t looked at you since the argument started—since the words that neither of you can take back were thrown like daggers.

“Logan,” you finally say, your voice breaking the heavy silence. He stops but doesn’t turn to face you. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even listening.

But then he speaks, his voice rough and edged with pain. “I can’t keep doin’ this,” he mutters, the words barely audible over the rain. “Every time… it’s like I’m losing you a little more.”

Your heart clenches at the raw emotion in his tone, and you stand, taking a hesitant step toward him. “You’re not losing me,” you say, though the crack in your voice betrays your own doubt. “I’m right here.”

He finally turns to look at you, his eyes shadowed with something that makes your breath catch. There’s anger there, yes, but beneath it, there’s something deeper—something broken. “But for how long?” he asks, his voice rough with a vulnerability he rarely shows. “How long before you walk away? Before you decide you can’t handle bein’ with a guy like me?”

The accusation stings because it’s not entirely unfounded. You’ve both been through hell, and sometimes the weight of it all feels like too much. But the thought of leaving him? Of walking away from the only person who truly understands you? That’s a pain you can’t bear to even consider.

“I’m not leaving you, Logan,” you insist, your voice trembling. “I—” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m scared, okay? Scared that one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. That something will happen, and I won’t be able to stop it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I just… I don’t know how to deal with this.”

He’s silent for a long moment, his gaze piercing as he studies you. Then, with a heavy sigh, he steps forward, closing the distance between you. His hand reaches up, his rough fingers brushing your cheek. “You’re not gonna lose me, darlin’,” he murmurs, the anger in his voice replaced by something softer, something laced with the same fear you feel. “But I can’t keep fightin’ this battle alone. We’re in this together, or we’re not in it at all.”

His words hang in the air, a challenge and a plea all at once. You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of the decision before you. It would be easy to walk away, to let the fear and doubt win. But as you look into Logan’s eyes, you realize that leaving him would hurt more than anything else ever could.

Taking a deep breath, you place your hand over his. “We’re in this together,” you whisper, the resolve in your voice stronger now. “No matter what.”

For a moment, the tension between you lingers, but then Logan pulls you into his arms, holding you tight as if afraid you might slip away. You bury your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. The storm outside rages on, but in Logan’s embrace, you find a sliver of peace—a promise that, despite the darkness, you’ll face whatever comes together.

[koqabear]

Pretty Privilege (and its complications…)

♫: California Gurls, Katy Perry // Icky, Kard

“You love your boyfriend more than anything; so much so that you decide to pay a visit to him while he‘s on duty, a perfect excuse to gawk at his perfect form and charming self. Unbeknownst to you (like always) the act only causes Taehyun to stress, forced to watch you attract attention like a magnet and have people flirt with you left and right— even your understanding boyfriend has his limits, you know.”

lifeguard!Taehyun x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, beach au, fluff, smut

Word count: 9.6K

warnings: bimbo/ditzy/feminine mc, mc is called a queencard bc idk, mc gets horny every three seconds, mc has nipple peircings and insane pretty privilege, (I have nothing to say for myself.) everyone in this damn beach wants her, she gets hit on by both men and women. alcohol consumption, (no one gets drunk) use of pet names (baby, my girl etc.)  and the words boyfriend/girlfriend, lowkey public indecency.. teasing, possessiveness, a little jealousy. 

smut warnings: dom!taehyun, sub!mc semi-public sex, marking, thigh riding, degrading, possessiveness (again!), rough sex, biting, breast play, grinding, oral (f. rec) multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, strength kink, tae picks the mc up, praise, dacryphilia, creampie (lemme know if I should add anything!)

Notes: alternate title: my strange addiction (kang taehyun) this fic is nawt meant to be taken seriously!! (I blacked out halfway through writing and editing this) Can you tell that I have tropes that just have a deathly chokehold on me? Embarrassing…

Kang Taehyun feels his heart stop the moment he sees your car pull up. 

A peaceful, thirty-minute break quickly turns into a meditation session the moment he sees your hot pink Porsche convertible pull up, straight from a Barbie movie as the fuzzy dice that hang from the mirror bounce around— even from the top of the hill where the parking lot is at, he’s still able to spot you with eerie ease.

You’re as energetic and bubbly as ever as you exit the car, laughing with your friends as you fail to notice Taehyun’s heated stare; your friends however, are much quicker to catch him, sharing knowing looks amongst themselves and laughing softly. 

His face feels hot as he quickly looks back down, his gaze downcast as he goes to scroll on his phone as a distraction— like instinct, he opens Instagram, your newest story popping up on his feed as he finds himself gulping nervously. 

Beach day!! >v< the picture is captioned, your bright smile practically blinding as you pose with your friends— you practically steal the spotlight with ease however, especially when you’re wearing a pink halter top with a Hawaiian flower pattern that exposes your breasts perfectly, the dip allowing your gold necklaces to rest in between. 

God, Taehyun sighs, running a hand through his hair as he hears your bubbly laugh from a distance, it’s so difficult having such a hot girlfriend.

A hot girlfriend who’s practically an influencer, he adds, counting down the minutes before he has to go back on duty as he remembers how successful your social media page has become. You didn’t mean to do it on purpose— you simply wanted to document your life and style like any other person would�� but it seems as though you attracted much more attention than you anticipated.

A few hundred thousand followers and plenty of sponsorships later, however, you quickly found yourself titled a true “queencard”— not that you wanted to be, anyway. 

You took your newfound “fame” with a grain of salt however, living your life as normal and continuing to document your lavish and busy lifestyle— in turn, Taehyun asked you to keep your relationship on the more private side. 

It wasn’t that Taehyun didn’t want to be seen with you; if anything, he adored showing you off, enjoying the way no one could take their eyes off you whenever you entered a room— off his girlfriend. He was very vocal about the love and pride he held for you, but he also preferred to keep his life away from the media. And like the angel you are, you accepted his wishes without any hesitation. 

Like Taehyun, you absolutely adored your partner; you were quite obsessed with him, honestly. If he’d let you, you’d fill your feed with him, your camera roll that was already filled with pictures of him begging to be posted as your mind told you that he could be an influencer as well— because who were you kidding, he’s so smoking hot. 

“Girl, you need to stop staring before you start drooling,” Chaewon says, helping Wonyoung unload the bags from the car as they begin to laugh and tease you. You simply whine at her comment, biting your lip before you force yourself to look away; how could someone look so attractive by just scrolling on their phone?

“I can’t help it,” you cry, taking a beach bag from Wonyoung in order to help, “he’s just sooo hot!” 

“And you let us know every time,” Wonyoung laughs, nudging your side as she gestures toward the beach before her, “don’t you at least wanna get closer?” 

Like an eager puppy, you nod, getting a head start as you walk down the steep path towards the beach; you can hear your friends yelling at you to be careful, but all you can currently think about is Taehyun— Taehyun and his rippling muscles, Taehyun and his tan skin that’ll be left exposed to the hot sun, Taehyun and his chain that you love to tug on when he’s on top of you…

Oh my god, you realize with dread, your thighs rubbing together as you stop to wait for your friends, I’m so horny right now. 

The curse of having such a hot boyfriend— you literally got soaking wet from the very thought of him. 

The last thing you would do is have your friends realize, however, much too embarrassed to let them in on your more intimate thoughts as you scan the beach, looking past the groups of people for a good spot to settle down; lucky for you, you find a spot between the lifeguard tower and a concessions stand. 

“Here here here!” You yell, running towards the spot without hesitation as your friends are forced to keep up; you ignore the feeling of the sand slipping into your sandal pumps, much more distracted by the fact that you’ll be able to see your boyfriend on duty. 

Taehyun, ever the innocent victim of your antics, remains clueless as to where you’re setting up at the moment; he sits at the tables on the other side of the concession stand, still scrolling through his phone as he counts down the minutes before he’s on duty once more— sighing, he looks up from his device, his eyes scanning the hill before him as he inevitably finds your car— he can’t help but frown once he sees that you’re no longer there. 

Where could you have run off to, he wonders, walking over to the headquarters in order to go back on rotation— he’s unable to stop thinking about you, already dreading how much of a distraction you’ll be to him as he makes his way over to his platform— only to stop, his breath stuttering as he sees the very sight he’s been dreading. (See: fantasizing.)

You’re wearing that same denim mini-skirt that always drives Taehyun crazy— actually, you’re not even wearing it anymore, his teeth sinking into his lip as he watches you strip innocently. The bikini bottom you wear matches your top, the same pink with the Hawaiian flower pattern; the shameful excuse of a bottom barely covers you, yet you don’t really seem to notice as you tie a sheer beach skirt around your hips. 

Dangerously, you pull your shirt over your head; and if Taehyun wasn’t flustered enough by your bottoms, the matching top definitely did the trick— how it barely managed to cover you almost impressed Taehyun, his mouth drying as he took note of the way you tied all the strings into cute little bows, adorning your hips and back as your friends complimented you over the cute set— puffing your chest out proudly, Taehyun swore he almost fell to his knees as he took note of the piercings that poked through the thin fabric. 

Oh god. He’s screwed. 

You and your friends are quick to set everything up; you’re eager to lay back against the towel as Wonyoung runs to the ocean, yelling at the two of you to go with her as she laughs with joy. 

“No thanks, I’ll stay here,” you say, getting comfortable as you stretch under the sun, the warmth making you smile as you reassure Chaewon, “Actually, I think the place over there has a mini bar— I might go get a drink.”

With one last goodbye and a yell along the lines of get me one, I’ll meet you there! Chaewon leaves, sand kicking up behind her as she begins to chase after Wonyoung; the two look beyond happy as they enter the water, the sight endearing as you finally get up. 

Unbeknownst to you, Taehyun watches like a hawk; he couldn’t get his eyes off you even if he wanted to, the sway of your hips and the shining sun on your skin much too enticing as he watches you leave, bitterly taking note of the way the men nearby begin to drool over you. 

Taehyun isn’t an insecure person— he’s far from it, and he knows damn well that you’d choose him over any other man on this beach. But he’s also tempted to run after you, to claim you as his and show everyone just how much you like him— but he remains professional, feeling his ears turn red as he snaps out of his lewd fantasies.

You haven’t even talked to him, but he’s already feeling desperate for you. 

Being a lifeguard has its perks— today’s perk comes in the form of his tall seat, being able to get a good look at the whole beach, and you. More specifically, the way you cutely lean against the counter of the bar, pouting like always as you take a second to stare at the menu. 

“So…” you trail off, pursuing your lips before you’re smacking your lips, tapping your ID rhythmically against the wood as you feel the worker staring at you intently, “I’ll just have two margaritas. And a water. Please?” 

The worker before you is bright and quick to work as he nods, stumbling over his feet for a second before he’s making you your drink; you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone work so fast as he hands you your order, sliding over an ice cold water bottle as well.

“Thank you! How much do I owe you?” You exclaim, placing your purse over the counter as you begin to dig for your wallet; only for him to interrupt you, stuttering out a quiet Oh, wait, as you look up at him with innocent doe eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s on the house,” he smiles, watching as you can only let your jaw drop at his words; unsure of what to do, you glance back at your order, left speechless as you take a second, only to look back up at the worker in surprise.

“Really?” You ask breathily, tilting your head as you lean in closer to read their name tag— Jay simply nods, smiling sweetly as they reassure you that you don’t need to pay, “Oh, you’re so sweet!” 

You’re laughing at the way Jay turns slightly red, surprised at his kind act as you ask one last time if it’s really okay— he reassures you once more, opening his mouth to say something before another customer is approaching, taking his attention as he reluctantly leaves your side. 

Taking a sip of your drink, you can’t help but feel the smile stuck on your face as Chaewon finally appears to join you; she’s soaking wet as she stands with you under the shade of the bar, thanking you with a cute smile as she takes the margarita you hand her. 

“How much? I’ll pay you back,” Chaewon says, gesturing at the drink before her as you simply shake your head in response. 

“No need. It was free!” You say, giggling at the way Chaewon looks at you incredulously.

“Free?” She echoes, watching as you only nod eagerly in response, “how?” 

“Dunno,” you say, licking at the rim that’s dusted with sugar, “that Jay guy was just really sweet!” 

“Or attracted to you,” Chaewon muses, nudging you playfully as she gives you a mischievous grin— she laughs as you shake your head defensively, painfully unaware of your pretty privilege as you fail to notice the way Jay glances back at you, clearly hoping to talk to you again.

“I got this for Wonyoung,” you say, gesturing to the cold water bottle that’s currently dripping over the counter, “gonna go give it to her, wanna come with?” 

Chaewon shakes her head, gesturing to her unfinished drink as she tells you to go ahead; watching you go ahead, she waits for you to get out of earshot, turning to the employee before she’s narrowing her eyes at him.

“Can I get a water please?” 

Without another glance, Jay nods— “That’ll be one-fifty.”

Barking out a laugh, Chaewon grins, proving her theory right as she watches Jay turn red from the realization that she caught on— being friends with you proved to come with more benefits than she realized, she thinks, biting back another smile as she goes to drink her margarita. Turning around, she watches you fondly— and more specifically, the way you begin to walk past the volleyball game that’s going on, making your way back to your setup as the men playing begin to take notice of you. 

“Hey baby,” a man calls out, drawing your attention as you simply hum politely in response, “Why don’t you come play with us?” 

You can only muster out a soft laugh at that, shaking your head as you ignore the way your body begins to heat up from all the attention; shyly, you refuse their offer, unsure of what to say as you feel their eyes taking you in slowly. 

“Oh, I’m not that good,” you say, shaking off their amused laughs as you hold Wonyoung’s water bottle close to you, feeling the perspiration drip onto your forearm, “I probably wouldn’t be very useful on your team.” 

Your response is genuine; you know you’re not good at volleyball after countless failed attempts to learn, much more content sitting on the sidelines and watching your perfect boyfriend absolutely dominate during his games— the thought is enough to have you fighting back a fond smile, brought back to reality by the way the man talking to you takes a step closer to you.

“ ‘s okay, I can teach you,” the man grins, spinning the volleyball expertly in his hands as his teammates nod in agreement. You’re unsure of how to refuse them now, but a sudden sharp whistle is taking all of your attention as your head whips to the source of the sound. 

You practically feel like an overexcited puppy as you spot Taehyun, on duty and scolding a group of teenagers for who-knows-what. Without another thought, you run over to him, leaving the group of men who can only call for you to wait— their words fall deaf on your ears as you feel your heart beating faster, calling out his name and watching as he finally spots you running over to him. 

“Hyun!” You say, waving cutely as you watch him smile fondly at you— you think your heart could burst as you practically jump into his arms, feeling him stumble back from the impact as you throw your arms around his neck fondly. 

“Taehyun!! Baby, hi!!” You say, bouncing on your feet as you pull away to pepper kisses on his cheek; all he can do is laugh as he falls victim to you, muttering a soft “okay, okay” as he pats your back fondly. 

“Baby, baby, I’m still working,” Taehyun reminds you, watching you pull away with a small oh right, that tumbles from your lips. His hands are still on your waist as his fingers trace over the fabric of your beach skirt, and you can’t help the way you burst into giggles as you take him in. 

“What, what’re you laughing at?” He asks, brows raising as he tilts his head curiously; you can only shake your head, wiping the bottom of your lip as you attempt to calm down. 

“My lip gloss is all over you,” you say, watching as he simply laughs at your comment, his dimple on display as he reaches up to rub at his cheek— it barely works, but he doesn’t seem to mind much as he finally lets go of you.

“Did you get yourself a drink, pretty?” He says, nodding his head at the water bottle you hold in your hands; you nod, smiling happily as you recount the events that happened in your head. 

“Yeah, the worker there is super sweet,” you gush, glancing back at where you see Chaewon still leaning against the counter, waving at you happily as you’re quick to return the gesture, “he gave me my drinks for free.”

“Did he now?” Taehyun asks, raising a brow at you as he watches you nod innocently. Glancing back at the shop, he sees Jay, who can only avert his eyes and hide from his sight. Looking back at you, his gaze softens as he takes in the way you practically glow under the sun, “that’s very nice of him.” 

Taehyun wishes nothing more than to be able to go back off duty and enjoy his time with you; instead, he needs to wait another four hours before he can properly show you just how happy he is to see you— unbeknownst to you of course, much too eager to be outside on such a nice day as you ramble about things with no clear end in sight. 

“I need to go back to work, baby,” Taehyun sighs, smiling at the way you begin to whine immediately, “I know, I know— I wish I wasn’t working today either.” 

Bringing you in closer, he places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose before he’s taking a step back, the dazed smile you send him enough to have his heart fluttering as he returns it without a thought.

“ ‘m just happy I get to see you.”

His words clearly affect you as you attempt to stutter a response, hitting him with a whine the moment he tries to laugh at you fondly— you can tell he’s reluctant to leave, but the same group of teenagers as before seem to be causing a ruckus once more as he sighs, bidding you goodbye before he’s off. 

You can only stand and stare with dismay, pouting as you watch him turn his back to you— his toned, broad back, with a waist so small you’d do anything to wrap your arms around it— or even better, your legs…

You groan as the same dangerous train of thought begins to hit you, your eyes squeezing shut as you force yourself to turn around— to walk straight to where Wonyoung lays without glancing back at your boyfriend, the task much harder than you’d think as you hear his sharp voice scolding the group of teenagers.

He sounds so hot, you think to yourself, wanting nothing more than to run away with your man and have him fuck you stupid behind the concession stand, oh my god, I want him so bad. 

“Wow, this thing is freezing,” Wonyoung says, taking the water bottle from your hands gratefully. Watching as you slump down next to her, Wonyoung pauses, trying to guess what might be wrong before she follows your line of sight.

“Ah,” she mutters, taking a long drink from her water before she sighs, “Are you sad you can’t talk to your boyfriend?”

“He’s being professionalll,” you groan, throwing a hand over your eyes as you lay back, the pout forming on your face second nature at this point, “I just wish he’d stay over here!” 

“It’d be a danger to the public if he just stopped doing his job,” Wonyoung reasons, watching the way you reluctantly agree with her, “plus, it was your idea to visit while he was on duty.”

“I didn’t think he’d look so fucking hot!” You admit, crossing your arms over your chest in defeat as Wonyoung simply laughs in amusement. Opening your eyes, you’re surprised to find Chaewon looming over you, a smile on her face as she takes her seat on her towel beside you. 

“You always think he looks hot. Also, the bartender over there totally wants you.” Chaewon pipes up, calling Wonyoungs name as she gestures to the water bottle in her hands before gesturing back to the mini-bar.

“Don’t tell me,” Wonyoung says, staring down at the item in her hand as Chaewon nods in confirmation, “wow, that’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s nothing, he was just being nice!” You refute, ever an airhead and your friends simply shake their heads in response, “It’s true!” 

“He didn’t bother looking back in my direction once you left,” Chaeryeong points out, glaring playfully at Wonyoung who laughs at her comment, “not to mention, those guys playing volleyball were literally drooling over you.”

“Wait, I saw that— I was kind of scared for a second,” Wonyoung admits, Chaewon nodding along as she confesses that she was about to jump in when you finally managed to escape, “you’re so lucky you managed to leave before things got weird.”

To be honest, you stopped listening around that last part— well, it’s not like you weren’t listening, it’s more like you weren’t really contributing to the conversation as you take notice of Taehyun, more specifically the way he’s playing with a child around the shallow end of the ocean, watching as he manages to make the child laugh, his eyes bright and fond as he takes good care of the toddler.

The sight practically has you melting, and you’re forced to bite your lip to suppress your smile— but then again, you’ve never really been good at hiding things— especially with the way you find your friends looking in the direction you are, the two of them sporting knowing smiles as they exchange a look. 

“Oh girl,” Wonyoung sighs, going to lay on her back as she puts on her sunglasses, “you’re drooling again.” 

Shit, you totally were. 

-♡-

The next three and a half hours pass by painfully slowly— for Taehyun, at least. 

It seems that you’re finally able to take your eyes off him after a period of adjustment, and he’s able to watch from his post as you enjoy yourself in the ocean, splashing around with your friends as the three of you have fun and remain carefree.

Carefree is probably one of the last words Taehyun would use to describe himself at the moment— it was a given that being a lifeguard was unpredictable and difficult, but being on duty while having his hot girlfriend that attracted attention like a magnet there with him was next-level. 

He couldn’t even begin to count the number of times someone managed to hit on you in the past hour— from what he saw, at least— it was ridiculous, really, even more so because you were never able to pick up on it. Ever. 

Taehyun couldn’t take his eyes off you for one second without a new person approaching you; he chalks it up to both your beauty and the fact that you’re one of the most approachable people Taehyun has ever met.

He’s never been happier to own sunglasses than today— or else you definitely would’ve caught him watching carefully as a random woman your age  offered to put sunscreen on you, your friends back in the ocean as you opted to take a moment to rest under the sun instead. 

“Your swimsuit is so cute,” she told you, her voice filled with a flirty lilt as it managed to travel to Taehyun’s ears; you had been as clueless as ever, holding your top up with your hands as you allowed her to untie your string and lotion your back— he tried to give this random stranger the benefit of the doubt, but it was really difficult to with the way she massaged you gently and leaned over to speak into your ear. 

“Are you single?” The implications of her words barely registered in your head before thoughts of Taehyun were overpowering your brain, a smile involuntarily tugging at your lips as you tried to hold back your giddy giggles in order to answer. 

“She’s not.”

You could feel the woman’s hands still on your shoulder as the two of you looked up, your smile only widening as your eyes met Taehyun’s— at least you think, he was currently wearing sunglasses. (Which he looked really hot in, of course. You think you would’ve jumped on him by now if it weren’t for the risk of you flashing the entire beach.)

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman behind you said, laughing nervously as she quickly went to stand; you couldn’t help but be confused by the way she hurriedly said goodbye to you, but all your questions were answered once you turned around to meet Taehyun’s irritated face, his brows pulled together in a frown as he let out a soft tsk. 

“Hyun, are you jealous?” The question is enough to have him snap out of his daze, blinking wildly behind his shades before he’s pushing them up and onto his head, pushing his wet hair back and exposing his forehead as he did; looking down at you, he can’t help but soften at the sight of you and your cute wide eyes, letting out a soft chuckle before he’s patting your head fondly. 

“No, I’m not.” 

You watch as he settles down behind you, taking the previous woman’s spot as he murmurs for you to turn around. You’re facing forward once more, taking in the pretty sight of the beach as you shift on your knees, sitting back on your legs as you wait for him to do something. 

“You looked pretty jealous,” you muse, looking down to watch as he takes the sunscreen bottle that was left at your side; the smell of the lotion fills your senses once more as you hear him open it, squeezing some on his palm as the sound of his airy laugh reaches your ears. 

“Well, it’s not exactly nice to watch another person feeling up my girl,” he reasons, watching as you straighten up at his comment, “why didn’t you ask your friends for help baby?” 

“Mmmh, they’re busy and she offered to help,” you confess, shivering at the feeling of the cold lotion against your shoulders, “and she was not feeling me up.” 

Unbeknownst to you, Taehyun can’t help but feel frustrated at your comment— your naivety made it difficult to make a point sometimes, and this was one of those moments as he was unable to stop the deep sigh that escaped him. 

“She wasn’t?” He asks, and you can’t help but gasp as you feel his touch become further; fingers digging into your flesh, massaging your shoulders tenderly as he leans in close to whisper into your ear, his hands roaming your body so slowly you think you might melt, “so what do you feel now that I’m doing it?” 

Horny. 

“I… I feel like I’m in the wrong,” you admit, stuttering softly as he begins to come back up to your shoulders, his dainty hands going past your collarbones and down your arms; slowly, he makes his way down, leaning forward as he does so until he’s pressed firmly against your back— his firm chest against your back, his hands reaching for your own as he interlocks his fingers with yours. 

You can feel his hair tickle against your neck as he presses a slow kiss against the back of your shoulder, biting your lip as you fight back the desperate whine that threatens to escape from you. 

“Glad you realize,” he laughs softly, letting go of you and sitting back as he takes a moment to inspect the beach; you can’t help the sadness that fills you as he begins to stand, only to pause as he notices your dejected state.

“Do you need any more help?” He asks slowly, watching as you nod happily before you’re laying down across the towel; he thinks he might lose his job as you look back at him, batting your eyes prettily as you send him a coy smile.

“Do the rest for me?” 

Taehyun hesitates. On one hand, it wasn’t very professional of him to lotion up his incredibly gorgeous girlfriend while on duty— not that the public was aware of the fact that you two were together, anyway— but on the other hand…

“How could I say no to you,” Taehyun sighs, kneeling at your side and taking the lotion bottle from you as he decides fuck it— he has half an hour left anyway. 

Your skin is warm to the touch; both of you are sighing in contentment the moment his hands meet your skin, massaging the lotion into the rest of your back as he tries to remain as professional as possible. 

You, on the other hand, are not doing that great. 

If there’s one thing that tests your self-control more than anything, it’s Taehyun— especially Taehyun that has his hands all over you, his touch firm and soothing as he begins to massage the back of your thighs— if he sees you squeeze them together, he doesn’t bother to let on, your mind fogging with horrible and lewd thoughts that would have your boyfriend red and flustered within seconds. 

The last of your resolve crumbles the moment his fingers ghost over your waist; dipping under the skimpy string of your bikini bottom, reaching toward the back before he begins to cop a feel— you can feel your breathing begin to pick up as he’s moving up, tickling against your sides before he’s reaching past your top; fingers massaging against the sides of your breasts, cupping what he can before he’s squeezing coyly. Flustered, you bury your head into your arms, listening to the way he laughs teasingly, his hands drifting away just as quickly as they appeared before he’s going to ask you if you’re alright teasingly. 

“I need you,” You whine, the words muffled against your arms as you dig your head deeper into your arms.

“Hmm?” 

This seems to be your last straw; sitting up, you scramble to keep your top on as you turn around to face Taehyun, taking him in in all his sun-kissed glory, sure that you look beyond flustered and destroyed by now. 

“Taehyun, I need you so bad,” you whine out, scooting closer to him as you watch his eyes widen with your unhinged rambling, “I’ve been trying to be good this whole time and distract myself, but it’s so fucking hard because I’ve been wet from just looking at you— Hyun baby, I’m so hmmf—!”

Taehyun is impressed by how easily you’re able to fluster him— he’s sure his ears are completely red as he presses his palm firmly against your mouth, taking in the way you look at him with wide, teary, and fucked out eyes. 

He takes a deep breath in order to control the dangerous feeling of desire that flows through him. 

Exhaling deeply, he takes a second to look at the clock posted by the headquarters— he feels his body relax with relief as he slowly pulls his hand away from you, giving you a warning look before he gestures at the time.

“Fifteen minutes,” he says, leaning in and muttering the words in his deep, glorious voice, “can you be good for me for another fifteen minutes?” 

You think you might die if you don’t take him right now. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out shakily, watching as Taehyun laughs at your pathetic state. 

“Good,” he says, standing up and getting ready to leave before another lifeguard realizes he’s been talking to you this whole time, “just wait for me, baby.” 

You’re a bit dejected as you watch him leave you, back to being his perfect and professional self as he spots abandoned swimming equipment from the rental shop; he can feel your heated gaze on him the entire time, forced to stifle a laugh as he glances back in your direction curiously— you’re shamelessly staring, a pout on your face as you carefully re-tie your top once more. 

Please, you think to yourself, choosing to lie back against your towel and clear out your thoughts, your eyes fluttering shut as you take a deep breath, please let these next fifteen minutes pass quickly. 

-♡-

Taehyun knows the exact second his fifteen minutes are up— only because you trot up to him like an excited puppy, your beach skirt flowing in the wind as you wave at him excitedly.

“Will you let me clock out at least?” Taehyun asks, letting out an amused laugh as you immediately attach yourself to his side; you give him a quick nod of your head in response, telling him to lead the way as you refuse to leave him anytime soon.

“Missed you so much,” you say, eyes sparkling as Taehyun can only throw his head back and laugh in bewilderment at your comment, “I’m serious! It’s hard to keep my hands off you, Hyunnie.”

“Don’t worry, I feel the same,” he hums, slowing his steps to place a gentle peck on your cheek, “Wait for me? I’ll only be a moment.”

Nodding happily, you tell him you’ll go get him a drink— you know he could use it, taking in his tired steps as he walks back to headquarters with a sigh— turning around, you spot your friends already at the bar, waving you over as you make your way to them happily. 

“He’s finally off?” Chaewon asks, watching as you nod with a bright smile on your face, “that’s good. You two can spend some time together now— especially now that the sun is beginning to set.”

“Not that you weren’t already,” Wonyoung teases, watching as you try to defend yourself with useless stutters as she continues to poke fun at you. 

“I— can I just get a water?” Giving up on trying to win the argument, you turn back to the same worker from earlier, watching as Jay jumps in surprise the moment your eyes meet his. 

“Oh, of course,” he mutters, placing the ice-cold refreshment before he clears his throat, face turning red as he avoids eye contact with you, “you don’t owe me anything, we’re closing soon and the register is already locked.”  

Letting out an embarrassed laugh, you can’t help but glance at your friends, feeling your face become hot as they send you sly looks; Jay seems to be just as flustered as you, bowing politely before turning around and resuming his closing tasks— biting your lip, you suppress another laugh, your friends already mouthing things along the lines of I told you so, as you simply push them playfully, looking around to see if Taehyun has come back yet. 

“This for me baby?” Taehyun’s hand is warm on your waist as he appears behind you, looking over your shoulder and smiling as you eagerly hand him the water bottle in return. 

He’s quick to drink, much thirstier than he realized as he practically begins to gulp it down; he can feel your stare on him the whole time, fighting back a smile as he closes his eyes in an attempt to ignore it. 

He looks like a model, you think, watching him fondly with hearts in your eyes; the day hasn’t looked nicer than it does now, the beach almost empty now that the sun has almost set and the weather growing cooler as the waves crash against the shore, the golden rays of the sun practically leave Taehyun glowing. Playfully, he pushes you away, unable to hold back his laugh any longer as he scolds you to stop staring! You can only laugh sheepishly as you try to deny doing so, but you know he’d never believed you from how clingy you’ve been with him all day. 

“You’re so sweet Jay,” Taehyun smiles, the said male practically jumping out of his skin at the mention of his name; turning around slowly, he laughs awkwardly, meeting eyes with Taehyun, who snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer as he tilts his head teasingly, “for not charging my girl. I appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Jay stutters, eyes downcast as he feels his face burning from the attention, “figured it was for you, so I didn’t bother ringing it up.” 

Taehyun only hums in appreciation at the man’s comment, slightly irritated at the way he’s able to lie through his teeth so easily; turning away from him, he takes the chance to look at you, smiling fondly and leaning in for a chaste kiss that has you melting against him. 

“Gross. Get a room you two,” Chaewon scoffs, covering Wonyoung’s eyes playfully as the two tease you endlessly. 

“Gladly,” Taehyun smiles mischievously, rolling his eyes at the way your friends gag in response, pulling you against him as you steady yourself with a hand on his chest, “mind if I steal her away from you guys for a bit?” 

“Go ahead,” Chaewon says, waving the two of you away with ease, “bring her back in one piece, please.” 

I’ll try, is all Taehyun says, pulling you along and laughing at the way you eagerly follow along with one last goodbye to your friends, clueless to the way Taehyun’s jaw ticks with annoyance as he pulls you away from your friends— and right towards headquarters, making his way to the back of the building, secluded by trees and the hill you came from.

“Tae, what’re we doing here—?” Your sentence is briefly cut off with Taehyun’s mouth against yours, the kiss harsh and desperate as you quickly become a mess of spit, moaning weakly against Taehyun’s mouth as he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. 

The string of saliva that connects you two as he pulls away has you whining breathily, steadying yourself with two hands placed firmly on his shoulders as you allow him to corner you, walking backward as his firm hold on your hips forces you to be pressed against the wall. 

“You drive me so fucking crazy,” he growls in frustration, attaching his lips right under your ear as he begins to suck— you’re gasping in response, clinging onto him desperately as you already feel your knees become weak. Pulling away from you, his dark gaze meets yours, heated and sharp as he takes in your fucked out state. 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to have my pretty girl get flirted with by everyone that lays their eyes on her?” He asks, shifting your hips towards him as he slots his thigh between yours with ease, “to just watch it happen because she’s too much of an airhead to realize what’s happening in front of her?” 

The whimper that escapes you from his words is downright embarrassing; but it’s enough to have Taehyun’s lips back on yours, eager to keep you quiet as his fingers begin to play with the strings of your bikini.

If there’s one thing Taehyun is an expert at, it’s pleasing you with every part of his body— which is exactly why he’s able to have you turn into a mess under him in seconds, flexing his thigh and bouncing it as his strong hands force your hips down on him more; he’s controlling your every movement, his grip on you bruising as you wonder if it’ll leave a mark on you later.

“You’re already wet,” Taehyun muses, feeling the way you claw at him uselessly, throwing your head back against the wall as you try to set the pace yourself, only to fail miserably, “barely took anything and you’re already dripping all over me.”  

The pleasure becomes overwhelming as Taehyun begins to litter kisses all over you, biting at you softly as he slowly begins to make his way down to your breasts; with a breathy moan, you jut out your chest, the sight making Taehyun let out an airy laugh as his eyes flicker back up to your face to watch your expression carefully. 

“Such pretty tits,” Taehyun grins, kissing on top of the fabric as he watches your eyes flutter shut, his eyes flickering back down to the metal that pushes against the thin top, “which ones are you wearing today baby?”

“The ones you got me,” you reply, biting your lip as you open your eyes, clouded with lust as you grind a little harder against Taehyun’s thigh, “the heart ones.” 

His warm mouth against your breast is enough to have you letting out a sigh of contentment; a hand immediately threads itself in his hair as you feel his tongue laving over your nipple through the fabric, tracing the jewelry carefully as you jut your chest out to him in response. His hand comes up to slip itself under the fabric of your swimsuit, grabbing your breast and squeezing teasingly before he begins to circle your other nipple. 

You feel dizzy, his touch practically everywhere as your eyes flutter shut, trying your best to keep your noises to a minimum as you bite your lip— but it’s useless, especially with the way he’s practically on you, his warm body on yours as you’re able to feel his erection against you. 

Whining hopelessly, you let go of his hair, allowing your hand to trail down as you get a good feel of his body— his strong muscles, his abs that flex in anticipation as you begin pawing at his swim shorts.

“Please please please,” you cry, slipping a hand past the barriers and stroking his dick slowly, your hips picking up the pace as you hear him groan lowly into your ear, “please fuck me Hyun, I need you so bad and I’ve been waiting so patiently for you…”  

“Have you?” Taehyun asks, relishing in the way your hand struggles to keep a pace, shivering slightly at the way you tighten your grip on him for a second, “because all seen today is the way my little attention whore of a girlfriend can’t survive if my eyes aren’t on her for a second.”

“Did you have fun seeing the way everyone else drooled over you?” He asks, pulling your hand away from him harshly before he’s stepping in between your legs, hooking one of them around his waist before he begins to grind against you, “did you like seeing me jealous, sweet thing?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you gasp, feeling him prod against your entrance as he unties your beach skirt with deft fingers, the cloth fluttering to the ground as he begins to grind against you harder, “I didn’t know—!”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” He mocks, taking pity on you for a second before his gaze is hardening again, “you never know, dumb little thing.”

It’s almost shameful how hard your pussy clenches at his words; you’ve made a mess of your bottom as Taehyun groans, eyes catching the way you’ve left a damp spot already. 

“God, you really can’t control yourself, hmm?” He asks, cooing at you softly as he takes in the way you’ve already begun to tear up. The sound of distant voices has him pausing, and you feel as though you’re afraid to breathe as your wide eyes meet Taehyun’s.

“Did Taehyun leave already?” The voice is immediately recognizable as Taehyun narrows his eyes, listening to Yeonjun, one of the other lifeguards on rotation today, talk to someone else. 

“Yeah… he left a few minutes ago,” Jay responds, and you can’t help but raise a brow as Taehyun takes a step away from you, about to mouth what are you doing? before he’s sinking to his knees before you, throwing a leg over his shoulder as you can only watch helplessly.

“With that one girl?” Yeonjun asks, your eyes widening as you glance over in the direction the sound comes from; you’re quickly brought to the man in front of you as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thigh, biting the skin softly as he murmurs eyes on me. Shakily, you nod, letting out a shaky breath as the conversation from the two filters back to you two once more.

“Yeah, you saw her?” Jay says— Taehyun’s nimble fingers are undoing the ties of your bottoms with such ease that you can’t help but gasp as the fabric slips off, your pussy left for display as your boyfriend takes in how needy you are with a satisfied smile.

Taehyun’s tongue is warm and teasing as he circles it over your clit, letting his spit coat you freely before he’s pressing firm kisses against your bud— you're forced to slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to suck on it, his tongue running over the sensitive bud as you feel your thighs shaking around his head; his hair is wet and ticklish as it touches the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you’re forced to concentrate in order to not let an embarrassing sound slip from your lips.

“Man, of course I did— she was fucking hot,” Yeonjun’s confession is enough to have Taehyun working harder, fingers prodding at your entrance and eagerly stretching you out as you choke back on a moan— in any other situation, you would be loud enough that Taehyun would have to stop to tease you about it, but the thought of either of them hearing you was much too mortifying as Taehyun began to slowly pump his fingers.

Your body said otherwise, however.

“I saw you give her those drinks for free,” Yeonjun teased, and you listened to the way Jay simply groaned at the reminder; you, on the other hand, were forced to remain quiet, your eyes rolling to the back of your head the moment Taehyun added a third finger, picking up his pace and bringing you closer to your high as you began to rock your hips against his face subconsciously, feeling his tongue beginning to wander as it licked all over your pussy— curling his fingers, you sighed, feeling the way he flattened his tongue against your clit before he began to pump his fingers once more. 

“I thought I’d try to make a move on her or something,” Jay confesses, the embarrassed tone to his voice not lost on you as you feel yourself grow hot— your hand presses harder against your mouth as you reach down to thread your fingers through Taehyun’s hair, pulling him closer against your pussy as you subtly try to communicate that you’re close; he seems to get the hint as he does his best to keep his ministrations up, your eyes squeezing shut as their conversation continues to flow into your ears. 

“But that was before I knew she was his girl,” Jay says, sighing as Yeonjun replies with an incredulous seriously? “Yeah, you should’ve seen the way he looked at me when he caught on, man. I was scared for my life.”

You’re sure you know how Taehyun was looking at him— at least, if it’s any resemblance to the way he looks at you now, his eyes filled with pure possessiveness and anger that it has you coming undone in seconds, a weak moan escaping through your hand as you squeeze your eyes shut. Taehyun helps you ride out your orgasm diligently, the lewd sounds of his tongue cleaning you up making you flustered as you cover your face in embarrassment. 

He’s sucking teasing marks all over your inner thighs once more before he’s standing back up, prying your fingers apart gently as he whispers for you to look at him; your eyes are needy as you blink up at him, and Taehyun swears you’ve never looked more beautiful as you practically glow before him, his eyes darkening at the reminder that you’re all his— his coworkers could only dream of getting close to you, let alone having you in the position he does now. 

“My pretty girl,” he sighs out, smiling at the way you throw your arms over his shoulders, bringing him in closer until you’re pulling him in for a tender kiss— it doesn’t last long however, your breathy whines making Taehyun press against your cunt once more, feeling how much wetter it’s gotten as he begins to kiss you senseless.

“My girl,” he repeats, pulling away to trail his kisses down to your neck, beginning to suck carelessly as he feels you reach down to pull his cock out, “all mine. Mine.”

His sudden possessiveness is new to you as you can only remain pliant under him, allowing him to do whatever he wants with you as he finally aligns himself at your entrance; biting your lip, you bury your head in the crook of Taehyun’s neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel him tease you— rubbing the head of his cock up and down your slit, feeling the way you clench around nothing as he grinds against you subtly— it’s enough to have you digging your nails into him, whining into his ear that you need more as you feel his tip begin to nudge at your clit; you think you might lose it as you feel his precum drip all over your cunt, your hips shifting toward him involuntarily to try and chase the feeling. 

Your mouth is falling open the moment he’s entering you; stretching you out, sliding in inch by inch as he feels your pussy fluttering around him uncontrollably— he can feel the way you’re gasping against his skin, and he’s hooking your leg over his waist once more as he presses you firmly against the wall of the building. 

You’re shaking like a leaf against him; whining for more, biting and kissing at his skin absentmindedly as you grind against him, your cunt dripping and sucking him in as the thought of keeping quiet slowly escapes your mind.

It’s enough to have Taehyun tugging you back, pulling on your hair teasingly before he’s planting his hand firmly over your mouth— his eyes never leave yours, the conversation of the two men nearby muddled in your ears as Taehyun begins to move. 

It’s slow at first, the grind of his hips against yours allowing his cock to hit deep into you, the wet sounds of your cunt around him making you feel slightly shy before the thought is completely thrown out the window— you could care less of what’s happening around you as he begins to thrust roughly against you, your body rocking from the motion and your eyes threatening to flutter shut as you feel his cock hit against your sweet spot; but you refrain from doing so, much more entranced by his gaze as he slowly begins to pick up the pace, the sounds that come from you getting more difficult to muffle as you feel yourself getting overwhelmed by the pleasure.

The reminder that there are two people that could hear you has you looking over to where they stand, feeling your heartbeat pick up from the anxiety as you eye that direction carefully— you’re quickly snapped back to reality the moment Taehyun is jerking your head back to him gently, tightening his hold on you as his gaze darkens.

“Eyes on me,” he whispers, rolling his hips just the way you like as though to make a point.

Eyes on him. Eyes only on him, you think, struggling to think anything coherent as his hand reaches up to pull your breasts out from your top, the flesh spilling out and beginning to bounce freely from the way Taehyun is fucking you— the heart jewelry that adorns your nipples shine at him, the sight making your boyfriend let out a weak moan as you feel him twitch inside you. 

“So lucky to have you,” Taehyun sighs, reaching over to your other leg as he briefly lets go of your mouth— not before taking one of your hands and placing it over your mouth, pressing his hand firmly over your own as he gives you a stern look— and he hoists you up, leaving you completely at his mercy as he begins to bounce you on his cock, the feeling making you slap your other hand over your mouth as you eyes roll back from the pleasure.

“Stupid little airhead, only has eyes for me,” he rambles, laughing quietly to himself before it breaks out into another moan— he’s practically driving you into the wall behind you as he fucks into you roughly, able to set a much faster pace as he watches your tits bounce in his face lewdly, “god, so glad to have you all to myself— you’re perfect, cute little pussy was made for me.”

You clench down on him at that, feeling as though you’re going crazy from the pleasure— that, and the way your boyfriend looks, feeling your nails dig into your cheeks as you take in his messy, wet hair, his tan skin and muscles that flex from using his strength on you, and his face that’s contorted with pleasure as his lips become bruised with how much he’s biting on them— in an effort to keep himself quiet, he hovers over you, placing his head directly next to yours so he can moan and whisper to you freely. 

“Wanna cum?” He asks, feeling the way you’re beginning to clench uncontrollably; frantically, you nod, tears beginning to pool in your eyes as you look at him with pure desperation in your eyes.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he grins, knowing that you’re too fucked to even speak correctly, “mine, and only mine.” 

You’re trying to choke back on your sounds as you wonder if doing that is even possible— then he slows down, grinding into you and burying his cock as deep as possible as it begins to kiss your cervix— coyly, he leans down, his hair tickling your collarbone as he wraps his mouth around your breast; circling your nipple with his tongue lewdly, covering it in his spit and tracing over the heart-piercing before he’s blowing air on it— you’re shaking from the feeling of him, unsure of how you’ll do what he asks without blowing your cover completely. 

“Hyun…” you whine out quietly for him, sniffling as he slows down his pace, almost stilling inside you as he watches fat tears run down your cheeks with cruel eyes, “Hyun, I’m only yours— I only want you, no one else, promise I only think of you, love you so much…”

The way you’re hiccuping from the effort to choke back on your sounds has Taehyun groaning, taking a deep breath in order not to come before he’s pressing his lips firmly against yours— then he’s resuming his pace, watching as you quickly quiet yourself as your body bounces from how hard he’s fucking you. 

It’s too much— you’re falling apart the moment he’s bringing a hand over to circle your clit, supporting you against the wall and holding you up with his other arm as he watches you fall apart, his mouth opening in a silent moan as you tighten around him, pleading breathily for him to cum inside as you do so. 

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up?” He asks, riding out your orgasm as he buries his head into your neck, “have you dripping with my cum while other people try to flirt with you? Give you a little reminder of who you belong to, fuck…”

With one last harsh thrust, he buries himself deep in you, finally coming undone and filling you up with his hot cum as you moan against your hand— the harsh bite he leaves on the juncture of your neck has you whimpering weakly, hands becoming limp and falling against his chest as he presses the rest of his body against you, holding you up as the two of you pant and try to regain your composure. 

“You’re too good to me,” Taehyun finally sighs out, placing soothing kisses over the place he bit you, listening to the way you laugh softly in response. You’re throwing your arms over his neck as one of them moves to his nape, pulling him away from your neck and bringing him in for a sweet kiss— you’re reluctant to part as you speak, unable to hold back from pecking him between your words as you do so. 

“You’re too good for me,” you say, pausing to give him a kiss, irresistible as always as he laughs breathily at your words, “you’re always putting up with me.” 

“Not your fault you’re irresistible,” Taehyun smiles, watching as you grow shy under his comment despite the fact that he’s still bottomed out inside you, “I still love showing you off.”

“I wanna show you off too, you know,” you pout, hitting his chest gently before you’re pausing, biting your lip uncertainly as you tilt your head, “if you’re okay with that.”

Taehyun realizes quickly what you’re referring to, unable to stop the fond laugh that escapes him as he takes a second to think.

“Sure. I’d like that.” 

It takes a second of you celebrating cheerfully to finally sober up and ask Taehyun to put you down— your legs are wobbly as you feel your face grow hot, his cum immediately leaking out of you as you whine in embarrassment for him to not stare— he can only shake his head in amusement at your antics, helping you clean up with the only thing he’s able to find at the moment. 

“Wait, that’s my favorite beach skirt,” you whine, not putting up much of a fight as Taehyun kneels before you, your leg thrown over his shoulder as he cleans you up, placing gentle kisses along your inner thighs as he does so. 

“I can wash it,” he replies, unable to hide his grimace as he tucks it away in his pocket; the sight is enough to have you giggling, readjusting your swimsuit and fixing your appearance before you’re hiding behind Taehyun, asking him if his coworkers are gone yet.

“The coast is clear,” he hums, scanning the nearly empty beach as he spots your friends sitting by the ocean, chatting idly amongst themselves.

“You don’t think they heard us, right?” You ask, blinking at him innocently as the belief that you did a good job keeping quiet runs through your head— the sight is enough to have Taehyun soften, letting out a sigh before he’s nodding his head.

“Yeah. You were so good for me.”

Taehyun knows better, though— but he doesn’t really mind, because now he knows that he won’t have to worry about either coworker flirting with you the next time you come to the beach. 

[chiaraswritings]

Unexpected.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.

Word Count: 3.9K words

Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.

Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.

It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?

The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 

I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."

I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 

"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."

Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 

He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 

Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 

Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 

My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.

I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.

...

"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.

"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.

"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  

I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?

"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 

"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."

"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 

"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 

Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 

I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 

The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...

...

I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 

Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.

Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.

Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.

 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.

"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 

"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.

"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 

"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 

"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 

I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."

His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."

"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."

"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.

"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 

"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"

"Yes, it still hurts." 

"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"

"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 

"Maybe," he grinned.

"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."

"I called and told them you can't come in this week."

"This... this is why I married you."

It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.

Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 

"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 

"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 

"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.

Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 

"No."

"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications?"

"No."

"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 

"No."

"History of heartburn?"

"No."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 

"Do you know what year it is?"

I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.

The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been on birth control?" 

"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."

"During?"

"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."

"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."

"Okay." 

The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 

Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 

"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 

"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."

"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 

"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.

...

Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.

Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 

I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"

"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."

"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."

"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."

I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"

"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."

My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"

"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."

...

When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.

I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.

Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.

"Mom!"

My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 

"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 

"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 

"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 

"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.

Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 

"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.

"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 

"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 

I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."

...

I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 

No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.

Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 

"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."

"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 

"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 

"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.

Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 

"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 

Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"

Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."

Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"

His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."

"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 

"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 

Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 

"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 

My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."

I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"

"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 

Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 

"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.

"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 

He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 

My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."

He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"

I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."

His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 

"Expect the unexpected." 

[amongemeraldclouds]

better than revenge | chapter one: falling for me, dear?

Lorenzo Berkshire x Slytherin!reader (ft. Ex!Mattheo Riddle)

Series trope: Fake dating

Chapter one summary: While trying to hide from your ex-boyfriend Mattheo, you run into a potential ally and the scheming starts.

Warning: Swearing, allusion to cheating

Author's note: I prefer using I instead of you to refer to the reader. Feel free to comment if you’d like me to tag you when the next one goes live.

Aahh I'm so excited to publish this! It's my first time writing fan fiction and doing a series. I used to write fictional one shots years ago when I was 15. Anyway, enjoy reading! Happy to receive feedback.

main masterlist | series masterlist | chapter two: practice?

What is Mattheo Riddle doing in the library at this hour? He’s supposed to be in class.

I close my book and grab my bag. Trying to tame my racing heart, I sneak off to the shelves. He can’t see me, nope. He no longer has the privilege to interact with me in any way, not since he broke my heart.

I curse inward, walking back, further down the shelves. My eyes dart from him and the exit, mapping out my escape plan. If I wait for him to pass the next five rows of shelves, I can—

“Oof,” I drop my book as I hit something behind me. No, not something. Someone.

I nearly fall but then strong arms catch me. “Falling for me, dear?” I hear a deep, playful voice. Lorenzo Berkshire, we knew each other casually but he and Mattheo are rivals despite being half brothers so I never had much opportunities to speak to him when we dated.

“Ha, funny Berkshire. Maybe if you didn’t randomly stand by shelves, then people wouldn’t knock into you,” I say grabbing my things off the floor and composing myself.

He raises an eyebrow, “maybe if you didn’t walk backwards, you’d actually see where you’re walking.”

“Maybe if your brother stuck to his schedule and he was where he needed to be then I wouldn’t have to go sneaking around the damn library at my damn school. Like I’m the one who did something wrong,” I reply.

“First of all, it’s half brother. And second—what?” His eyebrows knit together.

“Why are you avoiding Mattheo?” His voice softens.

I look away from him and my cheeks burn. “I just don’t want to see him,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady. It’s been three weeks yet the memories felt fresh in my mind. A night of forbidden kisses and broken promises. I can feel my eyes sting and it takes everything in me to hold it all in. 

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but knowing Mattheo, it was definitely his fault,” he says. I look at his grinning face and smile back. 

“Listen,” he leans in conspiratorially and holds his arm out to lean on the shelf.

Footsteps grow louder as Mattheo approaches, watching you smiling up at Lorenzo while he stands intimately close to you. “Get a room!” He chides.

Lorenzo smirks at you then turns to face his brother, “stalk much? If you missed me, brother, you could have just called.”

“Fuck off, Enzo,” Mattheo bites out. “I heard a thud and had to see what is was about.”

“Always looking for trouble,” Lorenzo tsked. “You know what? I’ll take your advice. I’ll fuck off and we’ll get a room.” He turns towards me, “what do you say?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I take his hand and force a smile, looking at Mattheo for the first time in weeks. God, I missed his brown eyes and those dark curls.

I inwardly slap myself to stay focused. “Thanks for the advice, Mattheo,” I say sweetly. I hold my head high and leave the library with Enzo, my sadness transformed to anger.

“Thanks for the save,” I bump my shoulder against Lorenzo’s once we’re far enough away from the library. 

He bumps my shoulder back, “any chance I can annoy Mattheo is a great opportunity in my book.”

“So listen,” I start, an idea forming in my head. “What if we continue to annoy him?”

“And how do you propose we do that?” He asks.

“By continuing this” I point between us. I didn’t expect it but I felt courageous speaking to Mattheo earlier when I was with Enzo. It felt good.

Lorenzo smirks, “darling, if you wanted to date me, all you have to do is ask.”

I hit his shoulder playfully, “fake date. Honestly, I’m still getting over Mattheo. It wouldn’t be fair. I’m not yet ready to date for real.”

“Let’s do it!” He agrees enthusiastically.

“Wait,” I stop walking. “You agreed too easily, what’s in it for you?”

“Aside from the kindness of my own heart?” He smirks. I roll my eyes.

“Fine. Here’s a tale as old as time: my father wants me to marry a pureblood. Given my dating history, he doesn’t trust me to make the right decision so he’s been setting me up with his friends’ and allies’ daughters this past year. Now normally I don’t mind wining and dining with beautiful ladies, but at this point, I’m exhausted,” he sighs.

I frown, “Shit, that’s a lot of pressure. But why? We’re still young.”

“Right, but he wants to have a strategic marriage that will keep our social status or even elevate it,” Enzo explains.

I catch on, “My father is influential in the political sphere so it would definitely help you.”

“We don’t actually have to date, don’t worry. But it’s enough to keep him off my back just until we graduate and then I’ll have more room to breathe.”

“So that’s why Mattheo was annoyed earlier! If we date, he’ll think you might marry me and then his ex-girlfriend would be his sister in law,” I realize. 

“Exactly, it’s a win-win situation,” Lorenzo grins then looks at his watch. “I have class in ten minutes. Meet me at my dorm later so we can go over the details in private?” I nod in agreement.

Lorenzo leans closer, “can I kiss you on the forehead?”

“Why of course, fake boyfriend,” I whisper with a small smile, finding an odd comfort in his proximity as he places a gentle kiss on my forehead. A few students around us whisper, witnessing something new to gossip about. 

Fake dating, what could go wrong?

main masterlist | series masterlist | chapter two: practice?

[bingwriterxo]

first time

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you and vada have your first time together

warnings: smut (character is 18+), 18+ (minors DNI), fingering

word count: 2200+

author's note: here she is: awkward, rambling vada. also (slight spoilers but...) [insert booksmart scene here]

"Mom?" you called out mid-yawn as you made your way downstairs, rubbing your eyes to try to wake yourself up more after the late-afternoon nap you had taken. When you were met with silence, you tried the other parent. "Dad?" Again, no response.

You shrugged as you walked into the kitchen, and your eyes narrowed as you caught sight of a piece of paper laying on the counter. You picked it up and read it over quickly, excitement surging through your veins.

Work trip this weekend. See you Sunday night. 

- Mom & Dad

vada can come over :)

The last part was scribbled on like an after-thought, and you knew your dad had written it. 

You dropped the paper onto the counter and pulled your phone from the pocket of your hoodie, immediately dialing your girlfriend's number. Leaning back against the counter, you waited for her to pick up. 

"Hey." Her voice was groggy, like she had also just woken up.

"Were you sleeping?" you asked. 

She hummed. "Yeah. Figured you were asleep when you didn't answer my texts so I thought I'd nap, too." You heard some shuffling on the other end and then Vada yawned. "What's up?"

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to stop yourself from grinning. "My mom and dad are gone for the weekend. They said you could come over. I've got the house to myself, so..."

"Movie marathon!" she shouted excitedly. You listened as she scrambled out of her bed, hopping around her bedroom in search for things to pack in her duffle bag. "I'll leave in, like, ten. Put something good on the TV!" You could hear her smiling through the phone.

"Okay, see you soon. Love you." 

She squealed. "Love you!"

* * *

The movie playing on the television was boring you half out of your mind. You had chosen a random one that you knew Vada had been wanting to watch with you, and you had tried to focus on it for the first half-hour, but something kept distracting you. Well, something aside from your girlfriend's nonstop rambling. 

"I used to have the biggest crush on Blake Lively as a kid, you know," Vada said, her eyes trained on the screen. Her hand was digging in the bowl of popcorn that was resting between the two of you, and you giggled as she shoved some of the snack into her mouth. "But, man, is Anna Kendrick hot," she mumbled around the food. "I mean, obviously I know she's hot, 'cause, like, I'm not blind, but something about her in this movie just hits different."

You weren't ignoring her, per se, but you definitely weren't fully listening, instead choosing to stare at your girlfriend's side profile as she munched on the popcorn and talked with her mouth full--a habit of hers that you had hated at first but now couldn't help find somewhat endearing (as long as you weren't looking at her face-on). 

"And, well, Blake Lively is Blake Lively, and who doesn't have a crush on her?" Vada continued. If you had been paying attention to the movie on the screen, you were almost sure you wouldn't have been able to hear any of it over the girl's talking, anyway, so it was better that you weren't watching, right?

When she realized she hadn't heard from you in a few minutes, she glanced your way, and you smiled softly. She offered you a confused grin. "Are you not watching?"

You hummed and turned back to the television. "No, no. I am," you lied. You could feel her eyes on you, and you knew that if you looked at her, she'd be giving you that damn lovestruck look she always had on her face when she was around you, the one that made you weak in the knees and had your heart beating rapidly.

"Y/N," she said, calling your attention back to her. You had been correct--she was staring at you with a half-smile, like she didn't even realize her lips were upturned, and soft eyes, 

"Yes?"

Her eyes flitted down to your lips quickly, then back to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

You giggled. "You don't have to ask, Vads. We're dating."

She shrugged, hiding in her shoulders for a moment. "I know," she said, voice shy and slightly embarrassed. "But I just wanna make sure every time. Because, like, what if one day I don't ask, and you don't want a kiss, and then--"

You pressed your lips to hers, effectively silencing her, and sighed when she kissed back eagerly. You reached down, pushed the empty popcorn bowl to the floor, and then easily maneuvered onto Vada's lap. She grinned against you, hands flying to your waist. 

"I always like when you're on top when we make out," she began, "because I like the weight." She paused, eyes wide. "I'm not, like, saying you're heavy or anything, not that that would be a problem if you were, obviously, but it's like a weighted blanket! You know, like how they can help anxiety and--"

"Vada," you said softly, eyes flickering between her own. 

She gulped, and her fingers twitched against your sweatshirt. "Yeah?"

"Could you just kiss me?"

She bit her lip. "Yeah. That I can definitely do." 

Vada stretched her neck up, and you leaned down. You met in the middle, lips moving feverishly against each other. Your arms were wrapped around her shoulders, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, while her hands slipped beneath the hem of your sweatshirt, her skin warm on yours. 

Her tongue swiped over your bottom lip at the same time as her fingers rose upward, the tips of her thumbs beneath your breasts. She pulled away quickly. "Are you not..." She moved her hands up a little more, feeling nothing except skin. "You're not wearing a bra."

You shook your head. "Nope." You grinned. "Is that a problem?"

"Definitely not," she breathed out, pulling you back into a bruising kiss. You groaned at the feeling, and she took it as an invitation, her tongue smoothing over your own. Vada's touch rose higher until she was palming your breasts softly, and you hummed against her.

After a moment, you nipped at her bottom lip and pulled away, your breathing heavy as you stared at her. Her pupils were blown, her lips were swollen, and you gulped before reaching down and pulling your sweatshirt off. Her eyes widened at the sight.

"Woah," she said as though she had never seen you topless before. You rolled your eyes with a smile because she had the same reaction every time the two of you did this, and then you leaned back in.

She seemed to still against you, and you reached down, urging her hands to keep moving. She took the hint, her thumbs beginning to circle your nipples, and you whined, your hips bucking up before you could stop them. 

Vada pulled away and dropped her head to your chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your sternum until she reached your breasts. She took one of your nipples into her mouth, and you threw your head back, a soft moan slipping from your lips. Her tongue ran along the bud while her lips sucked on it.

"Fuck, baby," you groaned, arching your back to push yourself into her touch more. 

Her hands dropped to your waist, though her mouth didn't stop, and she played with the hem of your shorts. "Do you wanna...?" she asked when she pulled back, staring up at you, her fingers dipping. 

"Yes," you said quickly, nodding to emphasize your agreement. "Yes, please."

Vada grinned, circled her arms around your waist, and then carefully laid you down on the couch, resting between your legs. Her mouth was quickly on your chest again as one of her hands slipped beneath your shorts, her finger running over your clothed slit. You squeaked in delight, hips canting up. 

"I can feel you through your underwear," Vada said. "You're really wet."

You nodded shyly, glancing away. "Yeah, well..."

She frowned and reached up, her free hand resting on your cheek and making you look at her again. "It's not bad. It's good. Really good, actually." She grinned, and you couldn't help your own smile. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I have no idea what I'm doing, really. Well, I kind of do, since, you know, I also have a vagina, but, like, I've obviously never had sex with anyone else, so I don't know if I'll do it right, and I want your first time to be good."

"Vads, baby," you cooed. "It'll be great if it's with you."

"Okay, okay," she said. She leaned up and kissed you again, her hand slipping beneath your panties. You both groaned, you at the feeling and her at the feeling of you. She rubbed your clit experimentally and you moaned.

"Shit," you cursed. "Yeah, that's--that's good."

Vada started circling it softly, and you couldn't help your whimpering. She was careful, a little too careful, but you weren't going to rush her, especially since it felt amazing.

"You can..." You gasped as she sped up a little. "Yeah, I was gonna say--"

"That's good, then?" she asked. Her eyes were on you, watching all of your reactions, trying to make sure she was doing the right thing.

"Very," was your short response. 

"Can I...well, should I...go in?"

"Yeah," you murmured. "Yeah, okay."

Her hand pushed down just a little bit farther, and then--

Oh.

You gasped at the feeling. Vada glanced up. "Is that...okay? Or was it better earlier? Or--"

You gulped and looked down at her, offering her a half-hearted smile. "Babe...I--I don't think that's the hole you were going for..." you whispered, trying not to embarrass her. Her eyes widened, and a blush immediately painted over her face. She pulled out and then pulled away, even though you reached out for her, trying to bring her back in. 

"Oh my god, oh my god. I am so sorry," she rushed out. "I just...I didn't even realize that I had gone down that far, and I just went for it, and--oh my god, I am so sorry, baby."

You grabbed at her shirt, pulled her toward you again until she was hovering above you. "It's okay, Vads," you promised. She was fidgety, clearly anxious, and you reached up, cupping her cheek. "Baby, I swear, it's okay."

She bit her lip. "I just fucked up our first time having sex. Oh my god, it's our first time having sex and I just...I just put my finger--"

You giggled a little. "It's okay. I'm fine; we're fine." You leaned up and kissed her gently. "Do you wanna try again?"

Vada looked at you hesitantly. "Can I?" she asked. "I kind of feel like I need to try to redeem myself and get my finger in the right place. Because, I swear, I know where it's supposed to go. I promise."

"Vada, please try again," you said, the pleading in your voice clear as day. "I really want you to."

She nodded. "Okay." She leaned down and pressed her lips to yours, a little rough in her nerves. You didn't mind, accepting the kiss happily. 

Her fingers started to roam down your body again, and you inhaled sharply at the feel of her slipping beneath your panties again. Her fingers started at your clit, rubbing quick circles, and you moaned into her, her mouth catching the sound. 

"Okay," she said, determined. "This time I got it." Her finger slipped downward, and you felt her pressing against your entrance. "That's right, right?"

"Yes," you said. "Yes, baby. Please, just--"

She pushed her finger into you and you groaned, back arching. "God, you're tight, baby. Feels so good."

"Fuck," you mumbled as she started thrusting. She curled her finger whenever she was fully inside, and it wasn't hard for her to find the rough spot of your walls. "Shit, shit, Vads."

She grinned and dipped down to your neck, lips hot against your skin. You could feel her kissing and nipping and sucking, but you could only pay attention to the fact that she was in you. 

"You can," you started breathlessly, "you can add another one." 

Vada hummed into your neck and slipped a second finger in you. You gasped at the stretch, hands flying to grip her hair. Her thumb reached up to play with your clit, and she quickened her pace. You were rolling your hips against her, whimpering.

"You're so pretty," she said, voice muffled. "So good, baby."

The praise pushed you to the edge. "Vads, I'm gonna cum," you whined. She thrusted into you hard once, and then again, and then you were cumming around her fingers.  At the same moment your orgasm washed through you, her teeth nipped at your pulse point, and you shivered, fingers tightening in her hair and a moan of her name falling from your lips.

She pulled out of you gently, grinning smugly as she did, and you watched as she brought her fingers to her mouth, licking them curiously. Her eyes widened. "Okay," she said decidedly. "Next time, I'm going down on you."

You chuckled and bit your lip. "You think there's gonna be a next time?" you teased.

Vada frowned. "I thought I redeemed myself pretty well," she huffed. 

"I dunno. We might have to do it again...just to check."

She grinned. "Not a problem with me." And then her lips were on yours again and her hand was sliding down your front. 

[crusty-chronicles]

Stubborn

Synopsis: In which our two favorite demons tend to and scold Reader for being careless during a fight. Separate drabbles btw

Kurama 🦊🦊🦊

The first thought that crosses his mind is one of anger. How dare that feeble demon even think to put it's hands on you. The next is that there's blood. So much blood seeping from the wound on your side. The decision of what to do is made without hesitation. He wasted no time rushing to your side. Lifting up your shirt slightly to heal the wound.

The others would take care of the fleeing demon. For now, his top priority was you. Making sure you'd be okay. But apparently that wasn't how you saw it. Pushing his hands away with the little strength you had.

“I'm fine. Don't worry about me. You should go after that thing with the others,” you tried to sway.

As if your life wasn't more important.

Like he didn't cherish you more than anything.

His gaze hardened, maneuvering you on your back to get a proper look at your wound. Summoning his spirit energy in his palm and pressing it firmly against your side.

“You'd think of me so callous as to abandon my injured lover?” He questioned.

His accusation temporarily shocking you.

“No but-” ‘you shouldn't be wasting your time with me.’ you wanted to say. But you were cut off before you could finish.

“Then there's nothing more to discuss. When I'm finished, we'll go right back home. Yusuke and Kuwabara are more than capable of handling this by themselves.”

You once again shifted around, trying to get him to stop. The case came first. It should've come first. Not you. You were hurt, but wouldn't die from it. It was pointless wasting energy on something you could manage with on your own. Kurama shouldn't be focusing on you when there was still an important mission at hand.

He gave you a glare and that was all it took to have you stilling.

“Why must you insist on being difficult? Don't you know that I'll choose you every time? I'll always choose you over any fight, any mission, any person. No matter what, it's always you, so sit still and let me heal you.”

—------

Hiei ⚔️⚔️⚔️

Impulsive, impulsive, impulsive.

He sees red the second your body hits the floor and you struggle to get up. A dark crimson trailing down your forehead.

Damn whoever hurt you, and damn anybody who dared get in his way.

He quickly slays the one responsible for your injury. Not even giving them enough time to process what's happening before it's over. When that's taken care of, he makes his way over to you. Shooing the group of your friends away so he can inspect your injuries himself. Despite the protests from a certain troublesome reaper.

“Let me see.” It's more of an order than a request.

But instead of complying, you turn your head and try to stand. Trying your best not to make a big deal out of nothing. Only for Hiei to shove you back down.

“I'm okay. It's just a scratch.” You brushed off, but he wasn't convinced in the slightest. Moving to wipe off the blood from your forehead.

You grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Don't. It doesn't hurt, so leave it. And anyways, you shouldn't have killed that guy. He needed to be brought in for questioning.”

Your words only further irritating the three eyed demon.

It seems you didn't quite understand the importance you held in his life.

He would have slayed thousands for even looking at you wrong. And here you were defending some cretin who'd committed an offense that was deserving of a fate worse than death. Sometimes he hated that human heart of yours.

“Shut up. You don't get to run your mouth after being so foolish.” He scolded. Moving to heal your injury with his spirit energy. He didn't do it often, but you were always a special case. You were special.

Yet you continued to try and avoid his help.

“I'm fine!”

“Argue any further and I'll put you to sleep myself. You think I care about some low life over you? You must have a concussion if you believe that.”

Then his next words were softer. For your ears only.

“Your life takes priority over anyone and everything, got that? You're mine, and any creature that dares lay a finger on you will have to deal with that consequence.”

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

[crescent--crow]

Finally drew OG Wally art

I eventually wanna draw him accurately but I still struggle unfortunately

Changed a few things last minute on the finished piece cuz it didn't sit right .

I've had Dr Sunshine is dead stuck in my head all day and I went you know that song hits just right for Wally lmao. At least to me it gives the equivalent of The Tornado by Owl City. Just me?

I'll never not be able to get this man out of my head it seems. After drawing him every month since last year I wanted to give myself a break. Why? Why ? Why? Tbh I'm not sure , I adore his design and I love all the efforts Clown puts into Welcome Home. Tis why I've supported as much as I could. (And still do)

I don't really follow everything that happens in the fandom cuz I don't have the time to dwell on dramas that happen in every place it seems. I'm too old for that stuff.

This is as close as I'll ever get to drawing Wally lmao. I don't think I'll ever stop. And funny enough I've never really been a fanart kinda artist. But with all the beautiful AU's and dedications everyone put forth on this lil dude.

I also want to thank this lil dude in particular because he's helped me develop my painting style since day one of drawing him. You can see my development and new experiment ideas that didn't always turn out good. But I'm so damn proud of myself which is hard to say even for me. Why? Self doubt bears my arms despite spending countless hours on pieces that I try to make better the more I settle on it. He wears his heart on his feet and is a silly lil dude. But we know the cool aspect of Welcome Home is the spooky factor. I wanted to give it a try. I'm not quite sure what kind of artist I am because I want to do everything. Horror has always been my one thing I wanted to give a try. But I'm always scared it might be portrayed the wrong way. So maybe surrealism is the way to go? I dunno I'm ramblin

Anyway 🐦‍⬛💕 have a great weekend I have a con to get ready for. I'm utterly tired 😭

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hey darling.

I love your writing! I have an idea in my head that I was hoping you could write up.

Hangman fic based on the song Cowboy Casanova by Carrie Underwood. I heard the song recently and immediately thought of Jake❤️

A/N: Aww thank you so much, anon! I have to say that I hadn't heard this song before but I'm now obsessed with it, so thank you for that XD And I agree, it's absolutely perfect for him, isn't it? Hope you like it!

Devil in Disguise

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: You try to discourage your friend from getting involved with the infamous Jake Seresin, but your counsel is pointless because this cowboy has other plans anyway.

CW: mild angst, drinking, swearing

WC: 1200+

Masterlist

“Don’t even think about it,” you mutter, slurping on your strawberry daiquiri while you eye the smirking man from across the bar.

Your friend blinks at you innocently. “What are you talking about?” she says.

“Trust me,” you warn. “You don’t want to go there.”

Your friend licks her lips and glances back at the man leaning on the jukebox, riffling through the various options. For as long as you’ve known him, Jake Seresin has always been riffling through options, musical and otherwise.

“He’s going to rip your heart out,” you caution, lifting the straw out of your drink and chugging the rest of it right from the glass.

“He’s so beautiful.” Your friend pouts.

“Yes, he is,” you agree, setting your empty glass down while the pub starts to spin around you as if your bar stool is mounted atop a carousel. “He’s also the devil.”

Your friend laughs and you try to focus on her face with a stern expression. “You sound like you speak from experience,” she comments.

You grimace. “Unfortunately.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, rising from her seat. “I know what I’m getting myself into.”

You grab her hand. “No, you don’t. You think you’re just going to have a fun night, no strings attached. You think you’re going to be in control of the situation.” Your tone is almost pleading now as you wiggle your friend’s wrist. “He’ll have other plans, babe. He’s going to make you fall for him. You’re going to fall so hard.”

Your friend takes you by the shoulders, stabilizing you. “Y/N,” she says. “Are you in love with him?”

You cringe, suddenly extremely nauseated. “God, no!”

“Then he’s fair game, right?”

You wince. “You don’t want to do this,” you say, but your words come out a little bit slurred and you’re not so sure that your message has been received. Because your friend nods at you and starts for the damn cowboy in khakis with his sunglasses hanging off the collar of his uniform. You groan and promptly turn away, not at all eager to see your friend hit it off with the man who has made the last six months of your life a living hell. You wave down the bartender and request your fifth drink of the night, but who’s keeping count? Certainly not you.

You’re almost finished your beverage when your friend returns with a giant grin on her face. “I’m taking off,” she says excitedly.

“No!” you moan.

“Relax, not with Cowboy Casanova,” she replies. “His friend, though!” She winks at you. You glance over your shoulder to see one of the other aviators smiling sheepishly at your friend as she gives you a quick hug. “You’ll get home okay?” she asks in a hurry.

You nod. “Don’t worry, I’ll grab an Uber.”

“By the way,” she murmurs in your ear before taking off. “Pretty boy can’t keep his eyes off you.”

But she’s gone before you can respond with an assortment of your favorite profanities. You down the remainder of your drink in silence and then stand to pull your phone out of your pocket so you could call for a ride. You’ve already got the app open when he strolls into your periphery and starts drumming obnoxiously on the counter with the tips of his fingers. You lift your eyes grimly and watch as he flags down the bartender while completely ignoring your existence. You try not to let your body react the way it always does in his presence, but you’re already feeling your palms begin to sweat.

Then, he looks over at you, smirking when he sees that you’ve already spotted him. Your heart does a somersault which adds to your vertigo and amplifies your perspiration. “I hear you’ve been talking about me,” he says.

You give him a dirty look. “Just a little PSA. I feel it is my civic duty.”

He chuckles slightly. “I’ve left an impression, then?”

You do your best to not roll your eyes like a schoolgirl. Licking your lips with contempt, you grace him with a deadpan expression. “More like a sour taste in my mouth.”

He turns to face you, leaning lazily into the bar. “Look at that, you’re all out of alcohol.” He nods at your empty glass.

“Look at that,” you reply with a tight smile. “It’s time for me to go.” You turn to leave, concentrating all your efforts on walking in a straight line despite the spinning of the room. You blink as the tables around you drift from side to side as though they were floating on water.

Before you can make it to the door however, Jake fuckboy Seresin catches up to you, casually stepping into your path with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You seem upset,” he says with a knowing squint.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you respond flatly.

“You know,” Jake says, leaning back into the door to open it for you. “You wasted your time warning her off.”

You glare at him as you walk out. “If I could save just one friend the heartache, it’s not a waste.”

Jake meets your gaze with a subtle smirk, stepping into the dusk after you. “I don’t want her.”

You stare at him as he follows you outside, the insinuation of his statement making you slightly queasy.

He takes a slow but very deliberate step toward you. “There’s only one person I want,” he says in a low voice.

You scoff while simultaneously gulping in apprehension. “You mean one thing,” you manage to say.

Jake Seresin is no longer smiling; he knows the game, and the current play calls for sincerity or, at the very least, a decent simulation of it. “It’s you,” he says simply.

And despite knowing that every word that comes out of his mouth is a big, fat lie, you feel an irrational desire to just believe. You take several fevered breaths as his face nears yours before replying, “Fuck off.” But you don’t resist when his hand snakes around your waist.

His eyes rake over your face, his gaze lingering on your lips for several torturous seconds before he looks back up. “I want you,” he says, all serious as if he hadn’t already promised you forever once upon a time.

“You can’t have me,” you say, forcing an element of defiance into your voice as his face gets close enough for you to smell his aftershave.

You feel his thumb stroke your ribcage, his touch featherlight. “I know,” he mutters, pushing his forehead into yours insistently.

You close your eyes as his breath sweeps over your face. “It’s too late, Jake,” you whisper.

He nods, his other hand closing around your arm as his nose brushes against yours. “I know,” he repeats.

You feel yourself melting underneath his searing touch but somehow you find the strength to keep talking. “I don’t trust you.”

Jake’s hold on your arm tightens slightly while his other hand drops down to your hip. He tugs you forward. “You shouldn’t,” he says quietly; the first honest words he’s ever spoken – at least to you.

His bottom lip skims your cheek, just shy of your mouth. Not a kiss but rather a loitering pause along your skin. You exhale with a shudder when you feel his lips brush the corner of your mouth. Your lips part; not kissing, just waiting. “I’m leaving,” you murmur against his mouth.

You feel his lips spreading into a grin. “Good idea,” he responds.

Then, he kisses you.

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[porcalinecunt]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐍 — 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

💀 KINKTOBER EVENT

🎧 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐀 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐜𝐰 — dom!baraka. sub!reader. ftm!reader. monsterfucking. general teratophillia. size kink. belly bulge. breeding. wall sex. public sex. dacryphillia(?).

an: i wonder if there’s any other baraka whores out there, since there’s literally nothing for him on here ;-;. anyways, he was perfect for this entry (besides syzoth) so please enjoy! especially since i finished this before midnight. 🫶🏼

“The disease is not easily gotten, but you can’t risk more exposure.”

Baraka’s own words, and they couldn’t be any more true. Tarkat is an entity of it’s own, slowly killing it’s victims and cruelly keeping the unlucky alive. Sadly enough, he would be one of them.

Despite Mileena’s rule, Tarkatens still had a long road ahead of them. There was still no cure to the illness, meaning Baraka and the rest of his colony had to hang on a little longer until hope finally reaches them. At least, he wasn’t alone.

Warnings, obvious or not, didn’t stop you from seeing him. You knew too well what would happen if you were to catch the dreaded disease, even the potential fate it had in store for you. But the heart wants what it wants, and it will always get it.

Admittedly, Baraka felt the same even if he didn’t want to admit it. There was something so heartwarming that a little human would still adore him despite the monstrous appearance he had. How you’d kiss his large teeth and nose or nibble on his pointed ears. The way you had to go on your toes to reach him for a hug made his decaying heart melt.

Although, you couldn’t help but allow your mind to wander. The mind creating fantasies that everyone would deem you crazy for. Baraka was a gentle one, but his size would state otherwise.

You should know, finding yourself pressed against the stone wall of an isolated area in the colony. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you gripped his biceps which were larger then your head. Baraka covered your mouth, preventing anyone else hearing your mewls and sobs that tore through your throat as you slowly took his cock. Your body shook violently, as he filled you inch by inch.

“B-Baraka!—‘s too big! too much!”

You whined, feeling his dick hit your cervix already in your abused cunt. Baraka growled, not used to the foreign feeling of his lover’s cunt squeezing around his shaft. It felt too fucking good to be real. He lifted you up by the hips, only to slam you back down onto him. He was essentially fucking his cock in you like a ragdoll, watching your head bobbing around and your eyes rolled back till they were white. Incoherent babbles went straight to the Tarkatan’s dick, as he let out low growls and praises.

“Yes, yes..just like—that..!”

It was all he could muster, increasing his pace. You grew louder and louder, staring down at the sight below you. A large bulge in your womb, disappearing as he filled it with his length before coming back and molding it’s shape into you. You clenched, almost cumming at the sight of it.

“Baraka, ‘m close..can’t wait ‘nymore..”

Your words slurred to the point of gibberish, as Baraka abruptly stopped. Before you could protest, he laid you down on the warm sand and lifted your hips up. Like before, he pulled you onto his cock and wildly fucked you like an animal in heat. His movement became sloppy, indicating he was close.

“Please, let me claim you for myself, y/n.”

His raspy and inhumane voice became gentle, even if it wasn’t obvious. Despite the way he fucks, Baraka couldn’t ever hurt you during sex. He sees it as a way of lovers, the most vulnerable and intimate moments together. Especially for him.

You nodded eagerly, wanting to be with the Tarkaten till the day the damned illness took him or both of you at once. It’s not the happiest ending, but it’s one better then being Shang Tsung’s lab rats.

With a couple more sloppy thrusts, Baraka painted your walls white while you coated his cock with your cum. A drawn out whine filled your ears, as your body shook violently until your back slumped onto the sandy ground. While catching your breath, Baraka pulled himself out and watched the mess he made in your pussy. The buldge slowly sunk in as globs of cum spilled out of you, seemingly never ending.

You chuckled, supporting yourself on your elbows to give him a kiss on his toothy mouth, a move that caught him off gaurd but quickly returned by licking your cheek, making you giggle.

Tarkat or not, Baraka is Baraka. Nothing would’ve ever torn you away from him, even if it killed you.

🎧 this work belongs to @porcalinecunt. reblogs and feedback are appreciated. <3

[dearanakin]

trust you | anakin skywalker: episode IV

Warning: mentions of grieving, injury, cursing

Word count: 3k

Previous chapter | Read on Wattpad

*

Anakin:

4 years earlier

I was standing right in front of his lifeless body. His head right next to it. My trembling hands were both holding crossed lightsabers; his and mine. I've been wanting to kill him since the day that he almost left me to die after Padmé gave birth to Luke.

Holding back the warm tears that were threatening to fall, I felt my breathing become shallow and the air felt condensed. Now I was facing Palpatine dead, but the feeling of relief didn't hit me. That feeling I was longing for, for almost three years, wasn't there.

All I sensed was a heaviness in my chest. For all I know, this is what I wanted. I didn't have a plan to escape his ship, so I had to be quick before the imperial army came after me. I was on a mission all by myself, it was something I wanted to do alone.

No one else would be there for me anyway, not even Obi-Wan. But I haven’t been in contact with him ever since Padmé died. That was when he decided he didn't want to go along with my idea, the one that was supposed to make me feel better.

It was two losses at once. Obviously, losing her was the most traumatic event in my life. But then right after that, what happened between me and Obi-Wan after spending years on his side left a hole in my heart.

And it was never healed. For a while, after that, I would sense his grief even from a long distance. But then he shut that down for me. I haven't felt his presence or sensed his emotions in a long time, and it was probably for the best.

I let go of Palpatine's lightsaber and kept a tight grip on mine. I took a few steps back, calculating what route I should take to exit the ship. By now, the army is most likely aware of what happened. The loud sirens went on and I could hear a lot of shuffling from afar.

My boots walked heavily across the room, and for the first time I noticed how my knees were wobbling. "Damn it", I mutter under my breath.

The adrenaline kept my mind balanced, but for some reason my body didn't want to collaborate. I forced myself out of the door, facing the fresh air that roamed through the corridor. There were soldiers in formation already, waiting for something to happen.

I was quick to deviate the blasts from the pistols with my lightsaber, using my metal hand for leverage as well. There were many doors around me, but I didn't risk my chances getting in.

They trapped me when I was getting closer to the hangar. I guess my anger was at its highest level, because I felt myself shoving all of them back with my Force and knocking them down.

I hurried to the first ship I laid my eyes on and hopped on it, turning on the gears. I flew out of there in a matter of seconds.

When all the adrenaline wore out, I started to feel numb and it felt like I was going to pass out. I took deep breaths and tried to stretch my body in order to keep myself awake.

Bringing my hands to my eyes, I noticed how hard they were shaking. Usually I don't feel the sensitivity on the robotic limb, but my flesh fingertips were tingling and then it hit me.

"Shit", I breathed in dread. I pulled the engine on autopilot and hoped for the best.

I was having a panic attack.

I also didn't have R2-D2 to help me fly back to Coruscant. Much to my dislike, I was inside a small ship with the smallest airflow.

I woke up disoriented, my mouth was dry and my head throbbing in pain. I had no idea how I was still roaming around outer space. I looked at my hands, noticing they were steady, as well as my fingertips that weren't numb anymore.

I took a deep breath and managed the engine to finally go back home. I lost track of time there.

I landed on the hangar and rushed to finally see Luke. He was starting to walk and could speak a few words completely already. I couldn't handle the thought of leaving him for more than I intended to.

Arriving at the Jedi Temple, I walked in my dormitory expectantly looking for him. He was sitting on the floor with one of the nursery Droids playing with him, while C-3PO watched out the window.

The three of them noticed my presence and glanced at me. I walked toward the child and pulled him in a tight hug.

"No need to worry anymore, son. Dad is here".

-

It's been a long way since then. Now I have to be more careful around Luke, and I need to reassure him a lot of things. When I go on missions, he gets worried a lot even though he doesn't feel the anxiety of what could happen.

I stand my ground each time, promising myself I always get back safe and alive. One of these days, I swear I'm going to go into cardiac arrest because of that feeling.

When I got back to my loft after training, I found him nuzzled into my pillow on my bed. R2-D2 scanning the room for further threats. Having a kid these days isn't easy anymore. After what happened four years ago, they kept running after me, looking everywhere.

It took them a while to give up on it, but I always had this feeling in the back of my head that they were always one step ahead, ready to attack. And I never feared for my life, I feared for Luke's. Cal insisted I should recruit him to become a Jedi.

It didn't cross my mind, because I didn't want him to become something I didn't expect him to. I didn't want him to become someone like me. I know how it is inside my head. I want to kill people all the time, the vengeful feeling that doesn't ease. My body is always on alert, I can't trust people anymore.

My conscience never let me step into the dark side, thinking of Luke. If it wasn't for him, I might as well have done that right after I lost Padmé. Wouldn't even have second guessed it for the matter.

In the shower, I pondered about that; like I used to do every night before sleep. Was it really worth it? Was it going to make me feel at peace? It was a hard decision. I leaned my forehead against the tile and inhaled sharply. If only I could see the future, I would've made a decision by now.

The next day I was feeling better, even though the painkillers were masking most of the pain. I dropped my boy off to his classes and headed to the tech room, still in need of having a conversation with (Y/N).

3PO asked me to forget it and let that go, telling me I should be more patient. See, I had an issue with letting things go, and I know it's my biggest flaw. But I just couldn't. I had a few conversations with Cal before and he told me doing therapy would help me a lot. Or even, meet Yoda a few times to help me get through those issues.

But I never did, never thought I should anyway. My stubborn ass wins over my conscience all the time.

I entered the room looking for her and saw her standing in front of an opened drawer. She looked distracted while holding what seemed like a lightsaber grip. My eyes scanned the piece slowly, and then I realized something.

It was Obi-Wan's. My stomach dropped and my throat tightened immediately. It was triggering to think about it, to think about him. To remember him even from the slightest piece of an object. I didn't notice when she turned to face me, her face becoming pale. She still had the piece between her small fingers.

I looked between the grip and her hesitant eyes for a few seconds and cleared my throat. "That's- It is Obi-Wan's?", I heard myself asking in a whisper.

She glanced at it and stared back at me. It was hard to describe her emotions, but it felt like she was probably just as confused. "Y-yes. They found it lying around after he left Coruscant".

I nodded. It couldn't have been long after our last encounter. He left Coruscant right after that, but I wonder whatever happened to the entire lightsaber. I couldn't breathe but didn't want to make it seem evident, so I took a long inhale and murmured "ok".

It took me a few seconds to snap back to reality, watching as she put the grip back in the drawer and closed it. I almost forgot why I was there in the first place.

When I noticed Luke's skyhopper on her table, I rolled my eyes and grimaced. Now there were two things I wanted to talk about with her. I huffed behind her, making her snap her eyes at me.

"What is my son's toy doing on your table? How many times do I have to make myself clear?", I try to be civil and not scare her right off.

(Y/N) glanced between the toy and me, her mouth agape while trying to find words. "They had to leave and asked me to fix it. But I know how you strictly made sure you didn't want me to".

She let her guard up the entire time, making sure she was standing a few feet away from me. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and raised my chin in superiority.

"Good thing, because I don't want you to get a finger near anything related to me or my boy anymore". My voice came out as a snarl, her body language shifted.

I took a step forward and she took a step back. "And while we're at it. Let me tell you something about another thing. This shit that happened to me was your fault".

(Y/N) shook her head and hit her back on the counter behind her. "I'm sorry, I- We did everything we could. The wires were almost molten".

I look down and chuckle in disbelief. You could tell she was beginning to feel scared of me. "No, you see - that's plain bullshit. Because I know how you are all very skilled and when we ask for a deadline, we expect it on time".

I closed the small gap between us, towering over her while my eyes intimidated her. She was reluctant to look back at me, so I made sure she did. I gripped her jawline forcefully and pulled her head up. "Look at me when I talk to you", I rasped.

"You know what happened because of your fucking incompetence. I could've died there, and then what? My son doesn't have a mother, you want him to become an orphan?".

My robotic fingers dug into her cheekbones, she was flinching really hard under my touch.

(Y/N) started to cry and I thought it was pathetic. She has been working around for ages, she should've known I don't have an easy temper at all.

She shut her eyes tightly and whimpered, my fingertips leaving marks on her skin. "I'm really sorry, Master Skywalker. I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to".

I was still towering over her, my forehead barely touching hers when I felt both of her hands grip around my metal wrist. "But you did anyway!".

My breathing was uneven, I felt a sudden headrush.

It was the trigger. Just the thought of Obi-Wan made me feel uneasy.

"Look at me!", It took her by surprise how loud my voice came out and it startled her. She immediately looked me in the eye and I pointed a flesh finger at her. "This is the last time I warn you. Stay the fuck away from me and my son".

Suddenly I heard the door burst and felt Cal's presence. "Hey, Skywalker! What the hell, man?", He sprinted to where we were standing and gripped my arms, pulling me away from her.

I was still staring at her dead. My bloodshot eyes were burning her skin from the eye contact as I watched her move her feet away from me. (Y/N) left the room within seconds.

I looked over Cal and closed my hands into fists. This always feels like someone is testing me. I could just lift my hand and punch him in the face, but I held back the urging.

"What was that?", His scowling tone echoed through the room. He pointed his finger at me, his nose was flaring in anger as well. "Don't ever touch her again or I'll take it to the Council".

Fuck the Council, for God's sake. I'm a fucking Master, not an apprentice anymore. If anything, I could own them if I wanted to.

I watched as he turned on his back and marched out the door, leaving me in a raging state. Next thing I knew, I was flipping a table across the place watching it break into several pieces.

Dude comes in thinking he was a knight in shining armor, what a lame character. I'm pretty sure this close friendship of theirs means something else for him but that didn't interest me anyway.

I let myself out and took my time to simmer down until the meeting happens. This time we were going to see General Grievous and I wasn't very pleased with the idea, but I carried on with it anyway.

When we all sat down on the desk, I shared the news with the others. They still had no idea what the new mission was about.

"General Grievous? That scumbag?", The man from across the table asks in surprise.

Did I stutter?

"Yes. We need to do some agreements that became pending", I nod. This wasn't exactly fun, I have a very strong desire to kill him as well.

Cal was always one giving ideas and usually plans escaping routes. This time he was just sitting in his chair with his arms crossed. His forehead was wrinkly and he had a pissed look.

He wouldn't dare to look at me and I hated him at this moment as well. So I cleared my throat and spoke up again.

"We're gonna need a few people back outside his trade federation cruiser and watch out. I was thinking of bringing Artoo as well" They all seemed to agree with the idea. The red head shuffled in his seat, not saying a word.

I try to disguise the disappointment but I expected this reaction after what happened earlier. I had to push him to the limit, because one way or another I needed him.

"Anything in mind, General Kestis?" I ask loud enough for him to shoot his head up and look at me. Still waiting for a response, I raise an eyebrow.

"No, you're leading the assignment, General Skywalker" He says in a snide tone. "I'm sure you're going to nail it".

Maybe the other men noticed his different demeanor, because I could sense they were looking at each other in complete confusion.

He would never not speak up. He liked to give advice and think through the whole situation, usually we would always have a plan B if needed.

I still wasn't satisfied, so I went through with it anyway. "Are you sure? You always have advice for us".

The others stared at him, watching as Cal stood still in the same position. He shook his head and twitched his lips in denial. I'm gonna fucking choke him.

"Not this time. I guess you boys have brilliant ideas though" He looked back at them and gave them the most fake smile I've ever seen.

Cal is all smiles and hugs, but I know when he's being sarcastic.

I didn't have anything else in mind. I didn't want to push it harder, I know I was losing my temper and it was a waste of time in all honesty.

I decided to ask someone else about strategies and we ended up spending the entire afternoon discussing them. My blood boiling every time I looked at the knight in shining armor watching as he stared blankly at all of us.

My wish this moment was to dismiss him and ask him to take his ass out of his face.

This is going to be a difficult mission and I was dreading the worst already.

I call out to Cal while looking through the papers, the pen still wrapped around my fingers. I feel him interrupting his tracks and freezing on his spot turning on his heels. He doesn’t say a word, waiting for me to speak again.

"Do you have anything to say now they're all gone?" I ask, eyes still focused on the desk.

I hear him sigh and hold his hips with both hands. "No, Skywalker. I already made that sure".

For the first time after a few minutes, I raise my head and give him a sarcastic smile without showing my teeth. He didn't seem fazed at all. I get up from my chair and walk toward him, still holding my pen, my hands behind my back.

"Look, we both know you're a very dedicated man and we also both know you don't wanna fuck this job up" I tilt my head to the side and lower my eyebrows.

He still didn't feel intimidated. That was a good thing, after all. I showed how he could stand up for himself, even though I'm the most insufferable person hanging around.

He gives me a smirk and closes his arms against his chest, raising his chin up. "Ah, when have I ever fucked something up, Master?".

Cal almost never fires back like this, but we weren't on good terms.

He reaches his hand upon my shoulder and gives it a tight squeeze, gripping my shoulder blade. "I can't tell you how much I'm willing to help on this mission. But not because of you. Right now, I wish I could just punch your annoying face".

He doesn't give me time to respond, as he shoves me back in a light push and leaves the room.

I heard the pen between my fingers crack. 

@jackie-on-the-loose @adorbzliz @himesuedi @kingdomhate @himesuedi @cl0esblogg

[iwrite-sinsandtragedies]

Day 3 — Poppy ₊˚✧ ﾟ

Submission for @olba-week-event

MC: Ai/Sky

I wasn't actually going to do day 3 because I couldn't come up with an idea that didn't have Cove in the spotlight 😂 but inspiration hit me at the last minute so this one was a bit of a rush job, my apologies. On the plus side, Ai's little sailor onsie will forever give me life so that was a delight to work on. She had huge aspirations to become one when she was a kid - always wanted to be on a ship and had a lot of sailor themed things in her room (even tried to stow away on a ship once and actually succeeded, but only for a day before someone found her out LOL, the moms were not pleased). As you can guess though, meeting Mr. Shark-man Holden and his sea themed son was the highlight of her youth 🤣 she's had many long and very serious conversations with Cliff about buying a boat. She used her serious voice and her serious face and everything! Cliff could barely resist! He almost caved when Cove came in for back up but the moms brought up the stow away story and that sobered him up pretty damn quick LMAO Now, on a more personal moment here. My stepdad likes to retell this story of how we first met, whenever he's in an emotional enough mood 😂 I was a very impulsive kid (putting it mildly) and I didn't know him at all but, despite that, the first thing I did was run right up to him and hug him around the legs and say "Hello!" with my big smile and he had no idea what to do because he was used to people not being like that with him at all. Yet there I was, already liking him, not knowing how big of an impact that was going to have on him. He retells this story maybe once or twice a year and there's just something so genuinely soft and sweet about watching a 50 odd year old man still get moved to tears, years later, as he says "You chose me." like it still baffles him even now - especially when you know he's the type of man that doesn't rely on support or comfort from other people, but takes that comfort from you - the child he chose too.

Cliff feels like he's that type of man to me, tbh 💖 Maybe it's because I understand his background so easily or because he's always doing things that I recognise as responses to that background, but he reminds me a lot of my stepdad and a lot of myself too honestly. So, a big big Big part of me just loves the idea of this stubborn, independent, self made man who is always putting the comfort and happiness of others as his top priority also getting so damn emotional when he gets to sit down and do normal happy family things with the kids that love him so dearly as well. Like, I just want this man to look around at the people in his life and know, deep in his heart and soul, that they want him to be there 🥺 maybe his parents didn't, but they just missed out on everything that he had to offer honestly. The family he has now knows his value and it's not in what he's willing to do, but simply in him being who he is. That's worthy of love.

Anyways 😂 I could probably ramble on about Mr. Cliff Holden for hours if I'm not careful. So, I'll just leave this here and continue loving my two ocean boys unconditionally, as they deserve! 💖