#because she's so good at feigning intimacy

[pucksandpower]

Couples Therapy

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: let’s go to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other

You fidget nervously in the waiting room chair, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. This has to be the most ridiculous first date idea ever …but then again, Lando was never one for convention.

The office door swings open and a smiling middle-aged woman in a cardigan beckons you both inside. “Y/N? Lando? I’m Dr. Ramanujan, please come in.”

Lando shoots you a mischievous grin and you can’t help but return it as you follow the therapist into her office. This is already off to a delightfully silly start.

“So,” Dr. Ramanujan settles into her chair, notepad at the ready. “What brings you two in today?”

You open your mouth but Lando beats you to it. “Well doc, it’s like this — Y/N and I have been together for five years now but things have gotten … sticky, you might say.”

You fight back a surprised laugh at his casual lie. Five years? You met this lunatic ten days ago.

Nodding solemnly, you play along. “Yes, unfortunately some issues have arisen that we haven’t been able to resolve on our own.”

“I see,” the therapist jots something down. “And what would you say is the primary issue troubling your relationship?”

Lando strokes his chin in mock contemplation. “You know, now that I think about it, we really struggle with intimacy.”

You splutter, cheeks flushing red. He did not just go there on a first date!

“We’re very passionate people,” he continues effortlessly. “But I think we both have some hang-ups that stop us from really connecting, you know?”

Clearing your throat, you decide to steer into the skid. “Yes, you could say Lando is quite … insatiable in that area.”

Dr. Ramanujan’s eyebrows shoot up but she simply nods. “I see, I see. And how does that make you feel, Y/N?”

“Honestly?” You shrug helplessly. “Exhausted. The man is completely relentless — it’s like he’s an animal sometimes!”

Lando clutches his chest in feigned offense. “An animal? That’s a bit much, don’t you think darling?”

“Don’t you ‘darling’ me,” you snap, pushing aside your amusement at the increasingly absurd situation. “I’m just calling it like I see it. We’re here for honesty, right?”

“Touché,” Lando turns back to the therapist. “Doc, maybe you could help us find … a compromise of sorts? Because my needs are evidently not being met.”

You scoff loudly. “Not being met? Lando, I let you do that thing with the-”

Mercifully, Dr. Ramanujan interjects before you can continue that train of thought. “Perhaps we could steer our discussion in a more productive direction? Intimacy issues often stem from deeper underlying problems within a relationship. Is there anything else concerning you both?”

Lando ponders this for a moment before snapping his fingers. “You know what? I think a big part of it is that Y/N doesn’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust you?” You echo incredulously. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. I Flirt With My Teammate Constantly!“

His jaw drops perfectly. “You’re bringing Oscar into this? That’s a low blow, babe.”

“I’m not blind!” You shoot back, doing your best to ignore how silly you both must look. “I see how cozy you two get. Tell me there’s nothing there and I’m a fool!”

“Woah, woah!” Lando holds up his hands defensively. “Oscar and I are just good friends and teammates. Nothing more.”

You cross your arms stubbornly. “If you say so.”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the room. Dr. Ramanujan seems perplexed by your crazy banter.

Finally, she clears her throat. “Right. Well, it sounds like there are some potential trust issues at play here that we should unpack-”

“Oh I’ll unpack it for you, doc!” Lando interjects, real passion entering his voice now. “Y/N is massively, astronomically insecure about our relationship. She questions my faithfulness at every turn!”

You swivel to face him fully, eyes wide. “And why, pray tell, would I possibly be insecure about that?”

“I don’t know!” He throws his hands up in exasperation. “I’ve never given you a single real reason to doubt me!”

“Except for all the pet names and inappropriate touching with Oscar!”

“Those are just friendly gestures!”

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy!”

The two of you are practically shouting at each other now, completely absorbed in your make-believe argument. Somewhere in the back of your mind you feel a bit bad for putting the poor therapist through this, but you’re having far too much fun to stop.

Dr. Ramanujan finally cuts in, raising her palms. “Okay! Okay, let’s all just take a breath, shall we?”

You and Lando freeze mid-rant, remembering where you are. He shoots you a conspiratorial wink and you have to bite your lip to suppress a smile.

“Now,” the therapist continues once the tension has diffused slightly. “Clearly there are some deep-seated resentments and triggers being hit here that we need to unravel. But I think a lot of it comes back to the intimacy and trust issues we were discussing earlier. Y/N, would you say you feel emotionally fulfilled by Lando?”

You ponder this for a moment, drawing out the suspense. Lando watches you with bated breath.

Finally, you sigh deeply. “No doc, I can’t say that I do. And maybe that’s why I’ve been so tempted to stray myself ...”

Lando’s jaw drops perfectly again. “You’ve been tempted to cheat? With who?”

Holding his gaze boldly, you declare: “My yoga instructor, actually.”

“Shane?” He looks like you just slapped him. “But he’s so … so bland!”

You shrug nonchalantly. “What can I say? Opposites attract sometimes.”

Dr. Ramanujan looks like she’s watching a tennis match, unable to get a word in edgewise.

Lando points an accusatory finger at you. “This is unbelievable! You had the audacity to blame me for the intimacy issues earlier when all this time you’ve been lusting after another man?”

“I’m a woman of insatiable needs!” You cry, borrowing his phrasing from earlier. “You said it yourself!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He turns desperately back to the therapist. “Please doc, you have to help us!”

She blinks owlishly a few times before finding her voice. “I … I’m not sure I can be of much assistance here.”

Lando clutches at his chest dramatically. “No, don’t say that! Our relationship is hanging by a thread as it is.”

“If it’s even still a relationship,” you mumble darkly, inspecting your nails with affected nonchalance.

“You see?” Lando pleads with the doctor. “This is what I’m dealing with every day! The constant barbs and lack of trust! I’m at my wit’s end.”

Dr. Ramanujan’s eyes dart between the two of you, seeming to deflate a little more after each deranged declaration. She sets her notepad aside with a resigned sigh.

“Listen, you two ...” she begins carefully. “While I appreciate you being upfront about your ...” she pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “unique situation, I’m afraid it goes well beyond my abilities as a therapist.”

You simply blink at her innocently while Lando dissolves into feigned hysterics beside you.

“But you have to help us!” He cries, flinging himself backwards dramatically. “Our relationship is the only thing I have left!”

You can’t help but let out a small giggle at his antics, quickly disguising it as a cough when the therapist shoots you a look. Dr. Ramanujan just shakes her head slowly.

“I’m sorry, but I clearly don’t have the tools or expertise to assist with … whatever this is.” She gestures vaguely between the two of you. “My advice would be to seek a different form of counseling. Or perhaps … separate for a while until you both figure out what you want.”

Lando clutches at his chest, feigning heartbreak. “Separate? Doc, you can’t be serious!”

“I’m afraid I am,” Dr. Ramanujan states firmly, rising from her chair. “This session has become … unproductive, to put it mildly. I think we should call it a day.”

You open your mouth to protest staying in character, but the defeated look on the poor therapist’s face gives you pause. With a sidelong glance at Lando, you decide to put her out of her misery.

Rising from your own seat, you loop your arm through Lando’s and favor the bewildered doctor with your most winning smile.

“You’re probably right, doc. We’ll, uh, take some time and really think things over. Thanks for your … insight today.”

Dr. Ramanujan simply nods, seemingly too drained to even reply as she opens the door and gestures you both through.

The second you’re out in the hallway, you can’t contain your laughter anymore. You dissolve into a fit of giggles, doubling over and clutching at Lando’s arm for support. He joins in instantly, that mischievous grin stretched wide across his face.

“Oh my god,” you gasp between peals of laughter. “Did you see her face when I brought Oscar into it?”

“I thought she was going to kick us out then and there!” Lando howls, wiping away a mirthful tear. “The things we put that poor woman through ...”

You finally manage to regain your composure, still grinning madly at the ridiculousness of it all. Leave it to Lando to come up with a first date idea as wonderfully insane as fake couples therapy.

“We should do something normal for our next date,” you quip, shooting him a sly look. “Like go skydiving or swimming with sharks.”

Lando matches your playful tone, draping an arm around your shoulders as you meander away from the office. “Whatever you say, darling. Just promise me you won’t leave me for one of the skydiving instructors, yeah?”

You pull him closer with a laugh. “No promises, babe.”

[wonlovie]

— ALWAYS.

After being broken up with, the cherry on top was receiving an invitation to your ex-boyfriend's wedding, leaving you breaking at the seams. Luckily for you, your childhood best friend is there to keep you together.

— starring. childhood bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ft. the slightest appearance of niki, mentions of ex!heeseung and le sserafim's chaewon (she was the first one i thought of LOL)

— tags. friends-to-lovers, slowburn, minor angst, jake is highkey a thigh guy, road trip!!, the oh-no-there's-only-one-bed trope several times over, smut [fem. masturbation while in the same bed, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), handjob, very soft-dom!jake, first time, praising, unprotected sex, reader cries, use of petnames (princess, pretty girl, baby; he also calls you a whore/slut like,, twice) kind of but not really fwb situation [MINORS DNI]]

— word count. 14.3k

— notes. this is the first fic i've posted here!! i also started writing this like,, the day i got covid so if some sentences make zero sense it's because i was loopy af lmAOO on another note jake??? sim jake??? writing this wasnt good for my heart bc he was driving me insane the whOLE TIME

SIXTEEN DAYS.

When you got the invitation in the mail, a single piece of cardstock carefully decorated with ornate blue lace and beautifully handwritten script, you had half the mind to ignore it. Throw it in the trash, maybe. If the sender asked, you could feign innocence. It got lost in the mail, and perhaps I never received it at all.

Unfortunately for you, your conscience kicked you swiftly in the ass before you could even step on your trash bin pedal. 

Begrudgingly, you really had no choice but to go. After all, it was your cousin’s wedding—a day you had both raved about since you were young children. You could still recall the silly Pinterest boards you put together, regrettably filled with tacky and outdated decor. Your cousin, Chaewon, even called you before the invitation was sent to your box, her excited voice crawling out of your phone speaker and taunting you with sharp licks against your ear.

You should be happy. Really, you should. Aside from Lemon, your newly adopted Jindo puppy, Chaewon was your favourite. Despite moving across the country for university, you were there for her as she was for you. Not a single day went by without an hour-long phone call between the two of you, filled to the brim with conversation or spent in peaceful silence.

The issue wasn’t Chaewon. No, it was far worse than that. The issue was her husband-to-be, a man you despised with every cell of your being.

Lee Heeseung. In other words, your ex. 

It was jarring for you to see the very man who seemed to date you out of pity, never truly initiating intimacy or even trying to pretend to be interested in the things you’d tell him, be so sweet to Chaewon. You had, unfortunately, witnessed their love firsthand on multiple occasions. The longing glances, the whispered sweet nothings, the subtle caresses when they thought no one was looking. 

You hated how bitter you felt about it. His last words to you felt like they were tattooed onto your eyelids.

“I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we should date anymore. I think I’ve found someone else.”

Of course, you were heartbroken. Heeseung was your first boyfriend and your first love. You had tried so damn hard to be the receiver of his affections, but your efforts always fell short. The next week, Chaewon approached you with tears brimming her eyes, begging for forgiveness; you knew that whatever you had with Heeseung was officially history. 

Chaewon, the angel, denied his advances until you pushed her to say yes, as you knew she wanted to. 

And now, your decision had come full circle, the ugly truth rearing its head at you. Your feelings for Heeseung were long gone, but with the breakup came a hundred insecurities you didn’t know you had, hence the big move. Maybe with space, you could heal.

“Stupid,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the invitation for the nth time in the past ten minutes. You rubbed harshly at your eyes, forcing the tears away. With a shaking finger, you traced the wedding date, briefly glancing up at the dog calendar that hung on the wall next to your fridge. 

Gingerly dropping the invitation onto the kitchen counter, you quietly counted the days left. The wedding was just over two weeks away, a beautiful August wedding. You don’t know how long you stood there, goosebumps prickling on your thighs as the morning air brushed against them. Your oversized tee did little to combat the cold.

A quiet knocking at the door made you jump. Swearing under your breath, you swiped at your cheeks to rid any evidence of tears. You shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peephole. A man stood there, hands in his jeans pockets, as he waited for you to answer. However, his head was down, which blocked his face from view.

When you didn’t answer right away, he knocked again just as gently as he had before. This time, though, he called out your name. 

Startled, you paused with your hands pressed against the door, eyes still pressed against the peephole. You knew that voice, instantly recognizing the accent that spilled into his words. Pulling the door open, your suspicions were correct when you were met with your childhood best friend, Jake.

A wide grin pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked the man up and down. “Holy shit,” you started, laughter in your voice. “What are you doing here?” Stepping back to let him in, you eyed his wide shoulders as he bent over to untie his shoes. “You never said you were coming to visit.”

Jake lazily smiled up at you as he tugged off the last shoe. His eyes drifted down for a second, catching sight of your bare legs. Not a moment later, he averted them. “Damn, hello to you too, sweets.” When he stood to his full height, he leaned into a comfortable slouch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Chaewon didn’t tell you?” He tilted his head at you in question.

Shaking your head no, you headed to the kitchen where you left your phone. Finding your chatroom with Chaewon, you scanned the contents quickly. “Look—”

You turned to show Jake your previous texts, but as you swivelled on your heel, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. You jumped slightly, the small of your back pressing into the cool countertop as Jake hovered over you, seemingly inches away. You could practically count his every lash from your angle, not missing how his eyes scanned your face.

Apparently, he didn’t expect to be so close either, as the tips of his ears reddened. “My bad,” as he moved to give you space. He pushed back his hair—when had he dyed it blonde?— to see your screen better. Reading quickly, he snorted at Chaewon’s lack of warning for his arrival, her last message simply being: ;).

“I thought you knew I’d be coming, so I didn’t bother sending a text,” he explained. “Chae wants me to be your escort to the wedding.”

“My what?”

Jake grinned at you, flashing his pearly whites. “Y’know, your stead. Your chauffeur. Your knight in shining armour, if you will.”

“Those aren’t the same in the slightest, Jake.”

“You get what I mean, sweets.” 

You hummed, resting your palms atop the counter by your sides. “Why so early, though? The wedding isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp yip from your bedroom interrupted him. You practically watched as elation flooded his senses when he spun on the spot, searching for the sound source.

Pushing yourself off the counter, you lightly bumped his shoulder with your own as you manoeuvred around him. “Looks like someone’s awake,” you sang as you headed down the hall. You could hear Jake’s heavier, sock-clad footsteps following you into your bedroom as you called out for Lemon.

The little pup bounded toward you, jumping from your bed with a tail that wagged so fast you were concerned she’d sprain it. With her tongue out, she hopped on her hind legs, unsure of whether she should greet you or Jake first. “Lemon, this is Jake,” you introduced as you picked her up. Gently moving her paw in a waving motion, you smiled at him. “Jake, this is the love of my life, Lemon.”

He sent you a teasing smile, “I thought that was my title.” You flushed at the unexpected remark. Before you could respond, he turned to Lemon with a soft expression. “Hi, Lemon. Hope you’re taking good care of sweets for me.” Cooing at the pup, he booped her nose.

Without a word, you motioned for him to follow you back to the living room, situating yourself on the small leather couch worn from years of hand-me-down use. Lemon hopped off your lap, her tail wagging as she beckoned Jake to sit down. He was quick to join you, sitting close enough for your knees to touch when Jake shifted his body to face you. You scanned him up and down.

He’d changed a bit, clearly, since the last you saw him. He wasn’t nearly as scrawny as before, his broad frame apparent from under his unzipped jacket. He had lost the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving behind a sharp jawline. The biggest change to note was his hair. Long gone were the black tresses, and in their place were soft blond locks.

In other words, he was hot.

“When did this happen?” you asked as he shrugged his jacket off, reaching up to twist a strand with your finger. “It looks good on you.”

Jake sent you a teasing look, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “You would’ve known I went blond like a month and a half ago if you actually read your messages,” he chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes stayed on you, flitting across your face.

“Whatever,” you hushed, “I’ve just been busy with school.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that you’ve spent the last few months acting like a heartbroken teen when you were a grown adult. Despite Jake having seen the worst parts of you in high school, you still wanted him to hold some esteem for you.

For a second, it was quiet aside from Lemon’s quiet sniffing, her nose working quickly on Jake’s discarded coat. Jake held eye contact with you, a silent question reflected in his eyes. 

“It’s still weird to me.”

Raising a brow, you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your palm. “What is?”

He stayed silent for a minute before leaning back against the couch, turning his head slightly to face you. “I can’t just walk down the block to annoy you now. Now, you’re four hours away unless I want to spend a few hundred on a plane ticket.” He stuck out his tongue, “‘Dunno why you didn’t stay.” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear a slight edge to his words.

You huffed, “You know exactly why I left.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. When Heeseung broke up with you, Jake was the first one you told. Despite being an incoherent, blubbering mess over the phone, he came the instant he heard the first sob rack your body. That night, he held you without a word until your tears ran dry.

“You still hung up about it?”

Pausing, you shook your head. “No,” you bit your lip, not catching the way his eyes darted down to watch, “not anymore, anyway. I don’t feel anything for Heeseung if that’s what you’re asking.” You cracked a sardonic smile at him, punching his shoulder and chuckling when Lemon followed your movement. “Not that pathetic yet, Jake.”

He fully turned his body to you, the leather couch squeaking under his shifting weight. His golden hair fell into his eyes as he bore into yours. “I was there, remember?” His voice was gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you off. “I know it hurt more than you’re letting on. It wasn’t that long ago.”

You silently cursed him for still being able to read you so well, even after so long apart. Absentmindedly, you tugged on the hem of your shirt, playing with the edge that was starting to fray after years of use. Jake leaned forward, placing a warm hand on your bare thigh. “I’ll be there the whole time. If you want me to, I’ll stay right beside you the whole night.”

Your eyes darted to where his large hand rested on your skin, swallowing harshly. “Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at him through your lashes. “That’d be… really nice, Jake.” You shakily exhaled; his proximity and his touch made your every nerve go haywire. Since when did Jake, your best friend since you were in diapers, have this effect on you? Looking up at the mop of messy blond on his head, you blamed the change in colour.

Jake didn’t say anything for a while but never moved his hand. The two of you sat there, staring into each other's eyes. Lemon had long ago gotten comfy in the small space between you, round eyes closed in rest. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He said finally, voice barely above a whisper.

You could only nod, your every thought directed to the hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your leg.

You offered Jake your shower while you went to get his luggage from his car. At first, he refused, telling you that he could get the luggage himself and take a shower afterward, but you had practically shoved him into the bathroom, claiming he smelt bad from the drive. 

Truthfully, he smelt good as ever, having always possessed an addicting scent to you.

Besides, this way, you could clear your head with some fresh air as you left and headed to your apartment parking lot. Easily spotting his car, much newer than any of the models your neighbours had, you jogged over to it. Once inside, you noted how clean the car was, coming as somewhat of a surprise to you. A carwash receipt peaked out from the middle console.

Lugging his suitcase out from the backseat, you were quick to make your way back, lest Jake be left without clothes for too long. Shutting your front door behind you, you nearly let out a scream when, on cue, Jake emerged from a cloud of steam, donning only your fluffy blue towel. He hadn’t noticed you yet, using another towel to shake out the excess water from his hair.

Unknowingly, your eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed down his toned body, disappearing under the towel that threatened to unravel itself, sending your mind into a frenzy. Turning around before he could realize that you were ogling at him like some pervert, you cleared your throat. “Got your suitcase,” you forced out. “You can change in my room if you want.”

“Ah, thanks, sweets.” You listened for his footsteps, tensing as they came closer. “Why so shy?” He inquired with a chuckle at the tip of his tongue. “‘S not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”

“Jake, we were five.”

“Still,” he laughed. You were startled when he patted your shoulder, gently turning you to face him more. You swallowed harshly at the sight of his naked chest up close. “Joking. Thanks for grabbing my stuff.” Without another word, he turned around and disappeared behind your bedroom door.

Letting out a breath, you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of your front door, holding a hand over your heart. Lemon’s tiny paws brought her over to you, the click clicks of her nails against the hardwood taking your attention away from your thoughts. She looked up at you, her head tilted as though she was questioning you. “I must be going crazy, huh?” You knelt down to let her jump on you, her front paws pressing into your leg. 

“Layla’d love her,” Jake’s voice interrupted. You looked up to see him dressed in comfy attire, a dim disappointment settling in your stomach. “You hungry? I can order something for us.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up. “You’re my guest, Jake. I can order.” You pulled out your phone and open a delivery app. Before you could get too far, the phone was taken from your grasp, left in Jake’s palm as he stared at you in challenge.

With a shake of his head, he denied you. “I may be your guest, but you’re also housing me for two weeks. Plus, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He hunched over to meet your eyes, “My treat. You can pay next time, promise.”

By the time the food arrived, you and Jake had settled in on the couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Quiet chatter filled the space. The movie had already been forgotten, acting as mere background noise to your conversation. You dug into your food without missing a beat, covering your mouth to retort whenever Jake would make a jab at you. 

“You never got to answer my question,” you prompted, putting down your chopsticks and resting the take-out container on the coffee table. “Why’d you come so early? Why not closer to the wedding?”

You watched Jake pause, his expression unreadable. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” he asked, voice low as he turned to look at you. His blond hair had been pushed up and back so many times strands framed his face, allowing you to see all of it. “Because I do,” he continued, shrugging as if he weren’t making your heart race, “I want to see you. All the time.”

Unsure of how to respond, you sputtered for a moment before turning away, your cheeks warm. “I’ve wanted to see you too,” you mumbled, “so thanks. For coming.”

“For you? Always.”

Rolling your eyes, you bumped Jake with your shoulder. “When did you get so cheesy?”

Jake pulled his lower lip under his teeth for a second, biting at the plump flesh as he mulled over an answer. “Just missed you, is all.”

Nodding, you turned your head to watch the rest of the movie. It was confusing since neither of you watched the first half. Beside you, Jake turned to do the same. If either of you noticed how the space between you had become nonexistent, thighs and shoulders pressed together, no one said a word. You couldn’t complain, enjoying how Jake’s warmth seeped through his clothes and into your skin.

Without realizing it, the both of you fell asleep. The TV had gone dark after hours of inactivity, the moon lighting up the room with a dark hue. Jake awoke first, grumbling when his neck had a familiar ache in it. But when he went to roll his shoulder, something was in the way. Or rather, someone. He turned, pursing his lips to stay quiet as he realized you were leaning on him.

Your legs were draped over his own, something you must’ve done in your sleep. Or maybe it was him searching for a source of warmth in the coolness of the night. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, your head fitting directly in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin burn as he swore quietly. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time.

3:02 a.m.

As slowly as he could, he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Standing, he hoped his racing heart wouldn’t wake you. Jake maneuvered the dark apartment as best he could without accidentally hitting your head against the walls of your hallway. Luckily, you left your bedroom door open, so he didn’t need to figure that out somehow. 

Lemon was already asleep, curled up on your left pillow. Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, pushing away stray hairs on your face afterward. He stayed there for a moment, staring at your peaceful expression. His heart warmed, a tingly feeling in his belly erupting at the sight of you. He tugged the blanket over your body, pressing a finger to his lips when Lemon startled awake.

Tucking you in, he hovered for a minute before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Night, sweets,” he whispered before moving to his feet. Before he could get very far, a hand shot out from under the blanket and weakly grasped at his wrist. Turning, Jake held a breath at the sight of your sleepy eyes gazing up at him. “Only have one bed,” you slurred, sleep taking over your speech. “Sleep here.”

Jake balked at you, hands subconsciously balling at his sides. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch—”

“No! Sleep here.” You didn’t give him much room to argue as you scooted backwards to give him some room before lifting the blanket in invitation. This movement bugged Lemon, clearly, as she moved from your pillow to lay in the nook of your bent legs. “Come on, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”

Swallowing at the sight of you, eyes barely open and shirt riding up further than he could handle, Jake relented, knowing you would keep arguing with him until daylight. The last time we slept in the same bed, you were bawling your eyes out over Heeseung, he stopped himself from saying. The thought lingered as he crawled in next to you, keeping a respectful distance. 

Satisfied, you allowed your heavy lids to close, a small, contented smile painted on your lips. “G’night, Jake.”

He sighed. “Good night, sweets.”

You fell asleep instantly, hand resting on the pillow in front of your face. Jake mirrored your position, your pinkies centimetres from touching. He observed the slow rise and fall of your chest and the occasional sniffs when your hair would fall and tickle your nose. His eyes traced your every feature, from the curve of your cheek to your supple lips. 

Jake did not sleep well that night.

FOURTEEN DAYS.

Two days after Jake had made an appearance, he quickly fell into a routine with you. He would wake up first and have a cup of coffee ready for you whenever you’d sleepily bound into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal would already be sitting on the counter, the jug of milk sitting beside it. Your mornings were quiet as you both woke up, only a raspy “good morning” before you’d sit in silence over your bowls.

It had been a long time since you had such normalcy, and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.

“Hey,” he started, only half done chewing his cereal. “We have, like, two weeks left until we actually need to be in Seoul, right?”

You eyed him suspiciously for his cheery tone so early in the morning. Swallowing your food first, you nodded. “Yeah, but Chae wants us back at least two days before in case things need fixing or whatever.” Sipping your coffee, you raised a brow at him, “Why?”

Grinning at you, he leaned over to grab your arm in excitement. Your eyes darted to where you connected, noting how his thumb immediately started rubbing the inside of your wrist, making you cross your legs under the table. “Let’s make our trip back a road trip!”

You blinked. “Jake. You drove here—it was already going to be a road trip to go back.”

Jake threw his head back in a groan, inadvertently showing you his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. You followed the movement down to his wide shoulders before looking away a second before he straightened up to meet eyes with you. “Dummy, I know that. Let’s make it a fun road trip with loads of stops and everything!” He talked animatedly, waving his hands with reckless abandon. “There are lots of small towns and pitstops on the way to Seoul, but we’ve never actually explored them.”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

Jake looked at you as if you had grown two heads. “If you have and I wasn’t invited, your best friend card is being revoked this instant. You hear me? Revoked.”

Laughing, you stood and grabbed both of your empty bowls. “Fine, we can have your fun road trip. You’re doing all the planning, though, since it was your idea.” You tilted his coffee mug toward you to see if he had finished it, placing it back where it was when you saw the brown liquid still swirling inside. He followed you to the sink, sleeves already rolled up when you placed the porcelain into the basin.

You didn’t say anything when he gently pulled you to the side and grabbed the sponge to start cleaning. “I already have the route!” He told you, not taking his eyes off the dishes. “It’s in my phone. You can look—it’s in the notes app.” Peaking at you through his lashes, he nodded his head in the general direction of where he left his phone. “Password’s still the same.”

You snorted, picking it up from the table before joining him at the sink, hopping up on the counter beside him. As you entered your birthyear into the phone, you didn’t catch the way he eyes your thighs, your shorts doing little to nothing to cover up the way they flattened slightly against the cool marble. “Y’know,” you started, ripping him out of his thoughts, ushering him to quickly place the bowls and spoons onto your drying rack. “This is a shitty password. You’re gonna get robbed one day.”

 He shrugged, pulling the hand towel off your oven’s handle to dry his hands. You watched him, silently ogling at the veins that popped out in his forearms when he turned to replace the towel. “Maybe, but it’s important to me.”

“My birth year?”

He grinned at you with a simple nod, standing between your thighs. His eyes fell to them once more when you absentmindedly spread your legs to give him room to stand. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakily rested his palms on either side of you, moving slow enough for you to object if you were uncomfortable. "It's the year my favourite person was born, after all." You didn’t say anything, instead looking back at his phone screen.

He watched as your eyes flit back and forth as you read, his fingers itching to move closer to you, to touch your skin. He opted to curl his fingers until his nails dug into his palms. “When did you figure this out?” You asked, smiling at the title of the note.

Sweets and Jake’s Road Trip !!!

“Last night, while you slept.”

You shot him a look, searching for eye bags. You were relieved when you didn’t see any, but you punched his shoulder nonetheless. “Idiot. If you can’t sleep, you can wake me, you know? You don’t have to stay up by yourself.” You placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb over a jutting vein just as he had to you moments before.

His urge to touch you grew stronger, and he felt his mental fortitude crumbling at the contact. Clearing his throat, Jake shrugged. “You’re cute when you sleep, princess. Didn’t want to wake you.” Moving away before your scent could drive him any more insane, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Lips parted from his casual slip of a nickname you’d never heard from him before, you dumbly nodded. “Good. It’s good. Let’s do it.” You hopped down from the counter, Jake’s hands immediately moving to steady you once you got on your feet. “When do we leave?”

Jake grinned at you, revealing his canines. “Whenever you’re ready, sweets.”

You returned the smile, excitement starting to affect you. “Let’s get ready then, shall we?”

It didn’t take either of you very long to get your suitcases and essentials put together. Jake had mostly kept his things in his suitcase, only pulling out clothes he needed for the day or toiletries that you didn’t have any to spare. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup instead of the usual one, and the sight made you grin as you collected your things. Chaewon had your dress up in Seoul, so you didn’t need to worry about any of that either.

An hour after Jake proposed the road trip, he was waiting outside, one hand clasped over both of your luggage handles, the other holding Lemon’s carrier as you locked the door. The two of you walked out to his car in silence, the crisp morning air making you shiver under your thin jacket. “It’s still summer,” you complained in a long drawl, “why is it so fucking cold in the morning?”

Jake laughed at you, thanking you when you opened the back door of his car for him and carefully slid the luggage and carrier in. “Relax, princess, I’ll turn the heat on just for you, yeah?”

You grumbled at his teasing, taking your spot in the passenger seat without a word as he held the door open for you. You watched him jog around the car to reach his side, never taking your eyes off him as he fiddled with the A/C. As he turned the ignition on, he handed you his phone. “Put something on for me, will you?” 

As he drove, you noted the fact that he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the middle console. His arms were exposed in the black tee he wore, seemingly not as affected by the cold as you were. You willed yourself not to notice how the shirt was unfairly form-fitting, wrapping around the bulk of his bicep in a way that was sending you spinning. 

The first stop was five minutes away from your apartment as Jake pulled into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store. Jake unrolled the windows a bit for Lemon, telling her to be good as the both of you exited the vehicle. Once inside, you shivered at how strong the store had its A/C running. 

Eyeing you, Jake sent you a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”

Without another word, you followed as Jake made his way through the different aisles, picking up snacks that you easily recognized as some of your favourites. Even grabbing a heat pack, he waved it at you teasingly. “Weirdo, needing a heat pack in the middle of August.”

You sputtered, “Wha— I never asked you to—”

Interrupting you with a bark of a laugh, he shook his head. “Just poking fun. C’mon, let’s go. Lemon’s probably waiting for us.” You huffed but didn’t argue as he pulled you to the front cashier by the hand. You trained your sight on your connected hands, moving them so your fingers interlaced. Jake briefly looked down at what you’d done, but if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, it’s you!”

To both your surprise and Jake’s, the cashier’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “We had English together,” he filled in when you didn’t seem to recognize him. “We were in a group project together for the final?” You blinked a few times before making a noise of recognition.

“Riki! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” you explained, glancing at his newly dark brown hair. “It was blond before. Looks good now, though!” You gave him a thumbs up. Before he could reply beside you, Jake cleared his throat. Both you and Riki looked at him, realizing that the latter hadn’t even started ringing your items through, and there was a bit of a line behind you.

Riki immediately started scanning the snacks Jake had brought, never taking his eyes off you. “What’re you up to this summer? I haven’t seen you at all since the semester ended.”

You hummed, “My cousin’s wedding is in two weeks, so Jake and I—” You nudged him, not noticing how quiet he had gotten. “—are driving back to Seoul right after this.”

The younger boy nodded, glancing over at Jake before looking down at your hands. You forgot they were still intertwined, but Jake's grip tightened when you went to let go. You dropped your head to hide how warm your cheeks felt, biting your lip lightly. “Ah,” Riki put down the scanning gun, his tone noticeably less happy. “₩9000, please.”

Jake threw a few crumpled notes on the counter before bowing his head slightly in goodbye, tugging you toward the exit wordlessly. You waved at Riki over your shoulder before walking quickly to fall in step with Jake. “You okay? You were quiet in there, and then you pulled us out like that.”

Jake only nodded, carelessly tossing the bag of snacks into the back with your luggage. “Here,” he tossed you the heat pack, already cracked and warming up. He opened your door again without further explanation before taking his own seat.

You stared at his profile in confusion, the heat pack already doing its job on your frigid hands. As he pulled back onto the road, you glanced at his hand, which rested over the middle console as it had before.

Curiously, you turned his wrist until his palm was facing upward. Jake watched you from the corner of his eye, only turning his head when he reached a red light. He hadn’t expected you to put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers once again. “Your hands are warmer,” you mumbled, leaning back to get comfortable. In shock, Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

Smiling tightly at him, you squeezed his hand. “The light’s green.”

Snapping his head forward, he coughed as he focused on the road. For the next while, your hand would stay in his. The ride to the next town was spent in silence, with you mouthing the lyrics to songs you recognized from his playlists. 

In Jake’s phone, he had written that you were to stay at motels in towns along the way. When you protested at the cost it would be, he simply argued with it’s for the experience, sweets. And no worries! I’m paying for the whole trip. And when you argued with that last bit, he only replied, if I see your wallet at all, I might have to fight you.

Your first real stop was in a small fishing village, the last coastal town you’d see before you started driving inland. The morning chill was gone, replaced with the comforting warmth of the summer sun. Despite that, you didn’t let go of Jake’s hand until you had to get out of the car. Stretching your limbs, you groaned when you felt and heard some joints pop. 

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you took in the smell of the ocean and the distant chatter of nearby townspeople. The motel Jake brought you to was a little rundown; it was obvious that it had been around for quite some time. The paint was peeling a bit, and the shingles on the roof made it look dated, but it had a cozy feel to it. Besides, it was the only dog-friendly motel in the area, so you couldn’t afford to be choosy.

“Hello,” the old woman at the receptionist's desk greeted you kindly, eyes shifting from you to Jake. You smiled at her, bowing your head in respect. Besides you, Jake did the same with that easygoing grin of his. “How may I help you?”

“A room for two, please,” said Jake.

The woman nodded, looking over at the remaining room keys. Grabbing one, she handed it over to you before telling Jake how much it’d cost. As Jake fumbled with his wallet, the old woman looked at you fondly. “You two are precious,” she informed you with an air of nostalgia, her wrinkled hand resting atop her chest over her heart. “I remember when me and my late husband were your age.”

You blushed at her insinuation that you and Jake were together but found that the idea wasn’t as jarring as you thought it’d be. You couldn’t tell if Jake didn’t catch the comment or chose not to reply as he handed her the money she needed. 

It wasn’t hard to find your room out of the ten total, and you were pleased to see that the coziness of the outside continued inside. Jake wheeled your luggage in while you opened Lemon’s carrier, letting her roam free in the room, sniffing the foreign air. The room itself wasn’t too big, consisting of the main room that could only fit a single queen bed and not much else and a bathroom that was longer than it was wide. 

“It’s like we’re teens again,” you giggled at Jake, shrugging off your jacket. “We’re sharing beds often.”

Jake let out a breath at the realization that there really was only one bed again and nodded stiffly. He supposed that was his fault for not mentioning how many beds you needed. “I guess so,” he gazed at you tenderly. “You sure you don’t mind?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “You can cut the gentleman act with me, Jake. If I minded, I would’ve said something already. We shared a bed in my apartment, remember?”

Of course I remember, he thought, it was driving me crazy.

In truth, Jake hasn’t been able to sleep because of how cuddly you were in your sleep. He’d purposely lay as far as he could from you so as not to give in to any temptations, but it seemed like you had other plans whenever you laid your head to rest. Not two minutes after he’d heard your soft snores, your hands were reaching for him, pulling you closer to his torso until you were snuggled up against him. 

He may have only been staying with you for two days, but he’s had to take just as many cold showers before you woke up.

“Do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked once the two of you settled. Lemon sat by your feet, circling them by looping under the chair you sat on to entertain herself. “It’d be nice to venture out! I think poor Lemon’s a bit restless from the carrier.” You bent over to rub behind her ears, to which she let out a yip of approval.

Jake smiled softly at the sight before nodding. “Let’s go, then.”

Thankfully, Lemon was an off-leash dog and stayed close by as you walked the streets of an unfamiliar town. In the distance, seagulls cried out to each other as fishing boats pushed off from the harbour. The sound of the sea lulled you into a peaceful reverie. You and Jake walked side by side, fingers brushing against each other every so often.

“It’s nice here,” you mumbled, “we should have done this sooner.”

Jake hummed, the low noise rattling in your ears. You closed your eyes as you walked, fully trusting Jake to guide you if you were going to walk into anything. He smiled softly at the sight of your relaxed demeanour, moving to hold your hand. You walked in silence for a bit before you reached the shore. Jake spotted some beach chairs, pulling you along. Lemon bounded ahead, happy to have room to run. You cracked open your eyes in time to see her jump into the water, barking happily as she entertained herself.

“Next time, you should bring Layla,” you suggested as you sat down. 

Jake smiled down at your hands. “Yeah, next time.”

Silence fell upon you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You both watched Lemon as she played in the water, occasionally coming up to bring you a rock she had found before hopping back into the puddles the tide was creating. All the while, your hands stayed clasped, with Jakes's thumb rubbing familiar circles on the back of your palm.

“Why did you move so far?”

You halted, your smile slipping. “You asked me already.”

“But you weren’t being completely truthful with me.” He looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. “You’re not over it, are you?”

The topic dampened your mood, your heart rate rising as you avoided eye contact. “I told you already, Jake. I don’t love Heeseung anymore. I’m fine,” you pressed, lying through your teeth. Lying to Jake always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you knew he could tell immediately that it wasn’t the truth. “What kind of cousin would I be if I were still in love with her groom-to-be?”

Jake’s frown deepened. “You have the right to be hurt—”

“But I’m not! So drop it.” Your outburst garnered the attention of a few townspeople who were out and about, causing you to flush in embarrassment. Lowering your voice, you stared down at the rocky beach, digging your dirtied trainers into the course sand. “I’m fine.”

Unbelieving, Jake continued, “It’s just… I thought you had enough reason to stay.”

His words made you look up, annoyed at how much he was pressing the topic on you. “Clearly, I didn’t.” Shaking your head, you dropped his hand before standing to your feet and dusting off imaginary dirt from your pants. You looked down at him, a mistake as you were forced to look at his hurt expression, lip trembling as he stared up at you open-mouthed. “I’m going back.”

He only watched your back as you walked away, beckoning Lemon to follow. The poor puppy got out of the water, shaking off the excess. She ran toward you but paused and looked back at Jake. She tilted her head as if she were asking Aren’t you coming? before running after you.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, shellshocked, until he realized that the sun was starting to set. Deciding he had been out there long enough, Jake slowly made his way back to the motel. When he got to your room, he hesitated, knowing that you could easily lock him out for the night if you were still upset with him since you had the only key.

Jake stood there, mulling over whether or not he should try knocking, but before he could even decide, the door opened. He was met with you, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” you opened the door more for him to come in. His heart broke at the sight of you and at how wet your voice sounded, as if you had just finished crying.

“Sweets, I’m sorry—” 

You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “No, you did… you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that or left you alone out there.” You looked down in shame, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

He was quick to lift your chin with two fingers, keeping them there as he rested his other hand on your upper arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it.” He pushed your hair behind your ear before bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before muttering in your ear, “I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I won’t ask about it until you tell me you’re ready.”

You let go of the hug, but Jake kept you close in his arms. Looking into his eyes with welled-up tears, you pouted slightly, bringing his gaze downward. “You’re sure you’re not upset with me?”

“With you, never, sweets.”

You opened your mouth but closed it before you could say anything. Hugging him again, your voice came out muffled. “Wanna sleep.”

Jake chuckled at you, dropping his head in disbelief. “Okay.”

Not long after, you were both situated in bed, with Lemon lying at your feet like usual. As he had for nights before, Jake kept his distance, but you quickly changed that. For the first time, you cuddled up to him while you were awake, fully aware of your actions. Jake’s breath halted as he felt you nuzzle your face into the soft fabric of his tee, which smelt so strongly of him that it was all you could smell. “I love you,” you whispered into his skin, sending his brain into a frenzy. “You’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”

Jake could practically hear the record screech in his head, gritting his teeth a bit before relaxing his jaw to leave another soft kiss against your temple. “I love you too, sweets.”

The day had exhausted him more than he’d realized. For the first time in two days, Jake found himself falling asleep right after you, holding you tightly against his chest.

You awoke to the feeling of something warm attached to your neck. A quiet moan escaped your lips when the something bit down. You felt large hands explore the expanse of your side, your sleeping shirt pushed far up. Something hard poked against your thigh as you angled your head upward.

Your eyes fluttered open as you realized it was Jake, groaning as he nipped at your skin, leaving behind blossoms of red and purple. You moved your hips closer to his, gasping when his growing hard-on made contact with your clothed sex. “Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he uttered, his deep voice going straight to your groin. Your panties, you were sure, were already soaked with your slick.

“Please,” you whined as he bit down harder, and his hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of the underside of your breast with his fingers. His mouth felt oh-so-hot on your skin, and his teasing touch did little to alleviate it. “Show me, Jake. Show me what I do to you.”

He pulled back, ignoring the noise of disappointment you made. His eyes looked impossibly dark as he hovered over you, chest heaving. “Be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.” He easily flipped you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. You moaned loudly when he ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he’d gotten. 

His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongue forcing itself past your lips to lick into your mouth. His hands moved wildly, pushing your shirt up until your breasts were fully uncovered, nipples pebbling in exposure to the cold air. “So beautiful,” he groaned into your ear as one hand kneaded your left breast. “Fuck, gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed pathetically, a sob of need ripping through your throat as his free hand made its way to your shorts. “Please, Jake, need you so badly.”

He groaned again, pushing past the elastic waistband and guiding his fingers into your soaked panties. He moved down to collect your wetness and…

You breathed in harshly when you woke up, your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room, remembering where you were. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your face burning. Oh my god, you thought in slight mortification.

Jake’s arm rested over your middle, you realized, as he spooned you from behind. Your startle hadn’t woken him, his soft snores sounding in your ear canals. You were relieved that he wasn’t awake to ask why you woke up so violently because how were you to explain that it was because you were having a wet dream about him?

The dull feeling of disappointment had settled into your gut from having been interrupted before the dream could get good, a feeling that came with shame at how indisputable your horniness was. You’d never dreamed of Jake in such a light, but now you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of the sight of his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as he ground against you—

No. You need to stop.

Turning your head to groan into the pillow, you became hyper-aware of how wet you were, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. You pressed your legs together, silently willing the pulsing of your clit to calm down and let you fall asleep again. If you fall asleep, you might forget about this in the morning.

“Stop moving,” Jake’s tired voice scared you, making you jump. He used his arm to pull you closer against him, your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise. Not long after, you heard his deep breaths again, signalling that he’d fallen asleep. 

Fuck, you were screwed. You closed your eyes tightly, but all you could think about was how firm and warm he felt. Pressed against him like this, you could almost feel everything. From his tone chest and legs to his soft length, pressing against your backside. His gray sweats and your flimsy shorts barely acted as a barrier between you. Stretching your legs out, you realize that Lemon had hopped off the bed at some point, likely to sleep in her carrier.

Without thinking, your shaky hand made its way down your front, actively avoiding his arm. You bit your lip harshly as you slipped a finger underneath your shorts, listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t awake. This is crazy, you have never thought of doing something so indecent in front of Jake, but the idea was sending you into a frenzy. 

You fingertip made contact with your slit, and you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at just how wet you were. Slowly, you rubbed circles around your clit, jolting slightly at the initial contact. Maybe it was from the dream or the fact that Jake was right there, but you felt more sensitive than usual, holding in whimpers with every movement.

“F-fuck,” you accidentally let out, screwing your eyes shut as you moved your hand faster. In the quiet stillness of the night, you could hear your slick with every flick of your wrist. If Jake woke up, there’d be no question to what you were doing, but the thought only spurred you on more.

Using your other hand to grope yourself over your shirt, you teased your entrance, easily inserting a finger. It wasn’t enough, your finger failing to fill you up how you know Jake’s would, a thought that forced out a rather loud moan.

Realizing how loud you were, you paused and listened to his breathing. Before you could even register that his breaths weren’t as deep as they were before, his arm tightened around you.

“Naughty fucking girl,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your hand out of your panties. You didn’t have time to feel humiliated before he rolled you onto your back, his thighs pressing into your waist as he sat on top of you. The look he gave you was just like the one he had in your dream, eyes dark and pupils full-blown, eyebrows furrowed together in desperate need.

“Touching yourself like that while my arm’s around you,” he spat, leaning until he was mere inches away from your face. “Thinking I wouldn’t wake up. Needed me that badly, yeah?”

It was clear that you were shocked, wide-eyed and jaw agape. Not once in your lifetime of friendship with Jake had you seen this feral side to him. You felt his hardening length when he pressed his hips down and groaned. “Come on, sweets. I know you’re smarter than that. You can answer me with words like a big girl.”

You smacked your lips together in disbelief before nodding slowly. “Yeah,” you stuttered. “Need you so bad, Jake.” Your own words surprised you, his boldness rubbing off on you. “Dreamt of you,” you confessed.

Jake raised a brow at you, laying his hand flat on your side. “Yeah? Was I touching you,” he used his hand to push up your shirt, moving faster than his dream counterpart had and groping at your breast, flicking his thumb over the hardening bud. “Like this?”

Nodding fervently, you bit your lip to hold in your moans as he handled you. He clicked his tongue using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip until it was released from your teeth. “Wanna hear you, princess. You had no problem moaning while I was asleep. Unfair to hide them in front of me now, isn’t it?”

He bent down to take your other nipple in his hot mouth, his searing tongue darting out to circle the sensitive bud. His eyes never left yours, watching your expressions as you arched your back to his ministrations. He let go of your nipple, only to blow cold air on it, making you whimper. “What else did I do, pretty?” He asked, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Fuck,” you cried when he thrust his hips against you, giving you a hint as to what was to come. “Made me feel so good, Jake.” You threw your head back as he continued, shallowly thrusting against your clothed core. You weakly pointed at your neck. “Kissed me here,” you sighed when he leaned forward to leave kitten licks against your neck, nipping gently at the skin. “And…”

He bit down on the skin under your ear, using his tongue to soothe the mark before kissing up to your earlobe. “And?” His deep voice resonated within you, making you shiver.

“And then you…” You trailed off, instead opting to run a hand down your front to the waistband of your shorts, not missing the way his eyes followed. “Touched me here.” Tapping over your clothed clit, you avoided his gaze out of shyness, still in disbelief of this situation. “Then I woke up.” Your voice was weak, doused in lust and need for the man in front of you.

He smirked at you, moving back so he could pull your shorts off, leaving you in your oversized tee—an old shirt of his he’d given you before you moved—and your soaked baby blue panties. Even in the dark, he could see how wet you were, the thought making him groan as he palmed himself over his sweats at the sight of you. 

“Poor baby,” he sighed, though you heard no actual sympathy in his tone. “Couldn’t get off in your dream, so you touched yourself like a whore in front of me.” You squirmed at his vulgarity, his words sending shockwaves to your clenching pussy. Shifting his body down the bed so he was laying between your thighs, he left kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. His tongue traced a line from your knee up to where you truly wanted him before stopping right before your panties. His mouth wrapped around your skin as he bit down, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.

When he pulled away, a dark hickey had formed. “Shit,” he groaned, “God, I love marking you up.” He looked back up at you, resting on your elbows so you could watch him. “Gonna leave marks all over, yeah? Then you’ll know who made you feel good, pretty girl.”

Mindlessly, you nodded, wanting him to do anything he wanted with you. His every word made you feel impossibly wet, almost embarrassingly so.

Without missing a beat, he kissed your clit over your panties, making you whimper as you thrust your hips up toward his face. “Patience, baby,” he mumbled, tonguing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Gonna make you feel good.” Using his teeth, he pulled your panties down, your slick stringing along as he got them to your knees before using his hands to pull them off completely. 

The sight of your exposed cunt, wet and clenching around nothing, made Jake crazy. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted with a groan before he dove into your pussy, licking up your slick. He drew figure-eights over your clit before closing his lips around it and sucking, making you cry out. You felt his long fingers poke at your entrance, the stimulation leaving you a mess of moans and whimpers.

When two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, you both groaned at the feeling of him sliding inside your gummy walls. His tongue worked at your clit as he slowly scissored his fingers inside you, all while watching your reactions. “So hot,” you gasped, clawing at the bed sheets. “Fuck, Jake, gonna…” You cut yourself off, moaning loudly, when he started moving his fingers faster.

“Cum for me, sweets.” His demand seemingly made you snap as you came around his fingers in an instant. He closed his eyes as his jaw dropped in a groan, relishing the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers. He slowly took them out, biting his lip at how wet you were. The whine you let out once you were empty would live in his mind for the rest of his days, he decided, as he moved up the bed to come eye to eye with you.

You watched as he sucked his fingers clean of your wetness before leaning in and kissing you harshly. The taste of him mixed with your juices made you moan, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt tightly. He bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before kissing you deeply once more. Your lips slotted together with ease, like two puzzle pieces.

He felt your hand travel down his stomach to the strings of his sweatpants, leaning back to watch as you undid the knot before pulling them down in a swift motion. He sat up to kick the garment off, before returning to his spot between your thighs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, hunger in your gaze as you inspected his cock, hard against his stomach. It was red, needy and weeping, one pronounced vein running along his shaft. More importantly, he was thick—thicker than any toys you had bought on a whim.

When you looked up at him, he must’ve caught your fear as he cupped your face in his warm palm. Kissing you gently, he brushed your hair back. “We don’t need to go any further if you don’t want us to,” he assured you, even though the hardness of his length said otherwise. “We’ll only go as far as you want to.”

You bit your lip, “Then…” Without another word, you closed a fist around his shaft, watching his eyes widen. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered. You collected some of his precum, using it to glide your hand up and down at a torturous pace, your eyes never leaving his face.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breaths fan over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and he moaned in your ear. His arms were braced on either side of your head, his scent invading your senses as you touched him. “Doing so well for me,” he hushed, kissing at your neck. He nudged your jawline with his nose, sucking down on your jugular. “Shit,” his hips stuttered, thrusting up into your grasp. “Go faster for me, yeah?”

You nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you picked up speed. Using your other hand to grasp his balls, you delighted in the way he groaned a little louder, your name slipping from his lips wantonly. Leaning forward, you bit down on his shoulder, flicking your tongue out just as he had before. With your lips on him, he moaned your name once more, fucking up into your hand with reckless abandon. He swore lowly as his hips stilled, ropes of thick cum spilling from his cock and onto your hands and shirt.

He stayed there momentarily, catching his breath before hovering a bit higher to watch you. Inspecting your hand, you brought it to your lips. His eyes never left your tongue as he watched it dart out to catch any drops of his seed. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he sighed once you finished, wiping off any remains on your soiled tee. He pulled the tee over your head before giving you his own, still warm from being worn. 

“Go to sleep, sweets,” he mumbled against your temple as he settled in next to you. “We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”

Your morning talk ended up with his tongue between your thighs in the shower as you struggled to keep yourself up, one leg over his shoulder. You were sure the people in the rooms next to you could hear your cries when you came on his tongue for the nth time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

Once he thought you had cum an adequate amount of times, he carefully set you down, massaging your aching thighs as he kissed you gently. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. Taking the opportunity, you pecked his lips before reaching for the body wash, giggling.

You never ended up talking about it, getting distracted by Lemon, who whined at the door when you finally came out of the bathroom. 

The rest of the road trip went similarly. You’d hold hands as he drove to your next destination, and then you’d get each other off in your motel rooms until the motel owners eventually kicked you out for disturbances. Between towns, you’d talk as if he wasn’t just knuckles deep in your heat or as if you didn’t just have his cock shoved down your throat as he fucked your face.

Words that needed to be spoken never were. Your fearful thoughts kept you from initiating the conversation that could very well destroy years of friendship with Jake.

ONE DAY.

Finally, you had made it to Seoul. Unfortunately, a flat tire in the middle of nowhere stopped you from getting there two days before, as Chaewon wanted. Luckily, nothing did go wrong and everything seemed to be ready for tomorrow.

Tired from the long trip, both emotionally and physically, Jake offered his house for you to stay at. Without thinking, you said yes. You took his keys and unlocked the door as Jake grabbed your things from the car, Lemon pushing past your feet and into the house, eager to explore.

As she made her way around, her nails against the hardwood floor indicating where she was, you and Jake pushed your luggage into the living room before collapsing onto the couch.

“I’m so happy to be home,” he sighed, stretching his limbs. “As fun as road trips are, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed.” Glancing over at you, a million thoughts raced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wanted to talk about what you were, the frequent hookups making his brain mush. But he could read you—he always could. You’ve always been so emotive that you made it easy, but he had your habits memorized. He knew exactly when you didn’t want to do something and that you weren’t ready for talking.

So he didn’t say anything, even though he knew it might hurt him in the long run.

Unlike your apartment or the many motels you stayed at over your trip, Jake actually had two beds. The thought of sleeping in separate rooms felt so foreign, but he told you anyway. You hummed, “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room then.” You grinned at him, “You’re probably tired of having to share a bed with me by now.”

Never, he thought.

That night, he lay in his too-empty bed, restless. Knowing you were in the same house, with only a thin wall separating you, was driving him mad. Not having you next to him, curled up against his side, drove him mad. His hand clenched around the bedsheets, where you would’ve been if you had taken up his silent plea to sleep in the same room as him.

In that moment, Jake realizes just how screwed he really is. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he quietly swore into the empty room, his heart aching. Jake had gotten so used to being so close to you, to have you by his side as he pleasured you, your high-pitched cries echoing in his ears. He knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d have to drive you home a few days after the wedding. Then, he didn’t know how long it’d be until he saw you again.

He wonders if everything that happened will get brushed under the rug. God, he hoped not. 

Just as he decided he’d need some sleep for the wedding tomorrow, he heard something through the wall. He held his breath, straining his ears to hear the noise's source. Before long, he realized it was you, your short breaths easily passing through the wall, the sound of your slick ringing clear as day to him.

Without another thought, he ripped off his blanket and made his way to the guest room. To his surprise, you hadn’t even closed your door, his eyes blessed with the sight of you atop the bed. Neither the blankets nor the sheets were disturbed, making it clear that you hadn’t even gotten comfortable before you started. He watched in a daze as your fingers plunged in and out of your hole, your face contorted into one of drunken pleasure.

He felt himself grow hard as he stepped closer. You whimpered out his name as you rubbed harsh circles over your clit, and something inside Jake snapped.

“You must love fucking torturing me,” he rasped, roughly pulling your fingers out of your pussy and pinning your hands to the bed, leaving your body fully exposed to him. “Always touching yourself in front of me like a slut. You knew what you were doing, leaving your door open.” When you turned your head away in feigned humiliation, he used his free hand to forcibly turn your cheek. His nails dug into your jaw as he forced you to look at him.

“Do you know how crazy you make me feel?” He asked, but he narrowed his eyes at you when you went to answer. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Needy and begging for my cock?” His words shut up, the implication of something more making your heart race.

“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to stop myself from making you mine every night we’re together?” He growled, letting go of your hands to push your legs up against your chest. “Do you know how hard it is to refrain from kissing you every time you look at me with that look in your eye?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, your lips meeting in a fight for dominance. His hands pushed you deeper against the bed as he pressed himself against you. His patience was wearing thin as he pulled away, only to pull off his shirt before he leaned in again. Your lips, your taste—all of you was addicting to Jake.

“Jake,” you moaned out when he attacked your neck, adding to the healing bruises from before. “‘M ready now. Please, please, make me yours,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for emphasis.

If he wasn’t hard before, he was now at your plea, a growl stuck at the back of his throat at the thought of fucking you like how he’s wanted to. “You sure, princess?” he asked, leaning back to look you in the eye.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you gasped, eyes darting from his left to right. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

Jake only shook his head, pulling you in for another deep kiss. Jake swallowed your moans, a feeling of possessiveness taking over him as he fondled your breasts. “All mine,” he hissed, “you’re mine.”

He made quick work of his sleep shorts, the garment getting thrown across the room into some corner to be found in the morning. His cock was pretty as ever, and your hands instinctively went to grab at it. “Next time, baby,” he rasped, “Need to take you now.”

You cried out when you felt the tip of his length nudge against your folds, collecting your juices as he ran his cock up and down your cunt. A broken whimper of his name ripped through your throat when he bumped your clit, his own deep moan shaking in his chest. He felt like he was losing his mind, the warmth of your pussy felt so good against his shaft, and he hadn’t even entered you yet.

You felt him line himself up at your entrance, and you tensed. Noticing, Jake left gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, pretty, just lay back, yeah?”

You nodded but felt hot tears well up in your eyes as he pushed past your entrance, a stinging burn erupting between your legs. He moved slowly, but inch by inch, the burn became more intense. “It’ll hurt more when you’re this tense, baby,” he whispered, massaging your right breast in hopes of distracting you. His lips met yours in a kiss more gentle than any that preceded it. Screwing your eyes shut, tears beaded at the corners of your eyes before they fell, disappearing into your hairline. He kissed your temple when he finally bottomed out after what felt like years. “Doing so well for me, sweets.”

He stilled for a few minutes despite wanting nothing more but to drill into you. Leaving kisses all over your face and neck, he observed as your face relaxed more and more. “You can move now,” you whispered, out of breath.

“Yeah? Trust me?”

“Mhm,” you closed your eyes—the sting had disappeared, and now you just felt stuffed. “I trust you, Jake.”

Your admittance made his head spin as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was inside before thrusting into you. A low moan rumbled in your chest as Jake sucked at your neck. He repeated the motion, rocking into you slowly until you got used to it.

After a while, the pain turned to pleasure as you clenched around him, making him gasp against your skin. “Faster, please,” you begged, linking your ankles around his back. “Need you.”

Just as you asked, Jake upped his pace, moving steadily. He sat back gripping your waist as he thrust into you. He watched for your reactions, eyes darting from your scrunched up face to the bouncing of your breasts down to the jiggle of your thighs with each thrust. His speed picked up until he was pistoling into you, broken moans pushing past your lips as his hips slapped against yours.

The sound of your wetness was so obscene, if you were in a normal state of mind you would’ve been embarrassed. But the drag of his cock against your walls and the way his pelvic bone grazed your clit every time he bottomed out was deliciously addicting.  “Feels so fucking good,” Jake moaned, “you’re gripping me so tightly—fuck!—gonna make me cum, princess.” Falling forward, he braced himself on one arm, reaching for your puffy clit with the other. He rubbed fast cirlces on your clit as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin turning you on more. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, to bask in the sight of Jake slowly losing control of his movements as he got closer to his own release.

The sight of him hunched over you, eyes glassy as he furrowed his brows in concentration, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline, causing his blond hair to stick to his forehead, was so fucking hot. You gripped at his arms, muscles bulging as he struggled to keep himself up.

You felt an orgasm fast approaching, your own whines coming out higher and higher. “Fu—ck, Jake,” you swore, “I’m so close, please, I—”

At your words, Jake’s hips moved faster, hitting the spot that made you see stars over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this,” he uttered breathlessly. “Fuck, I love you.” The words spilled from his lips unintentionally, the way your walls clenched around him knocked any sense of thought out of him, his only coherent thought being to make you cream around his cock.

His words echoed in your brain as you came with a cry of his name. The feeling of you cumming sent Jake into overdrive as he pistoned into you, overstimulating you as he chased his release. After a moment, he stilled, coming inside of your cavern. You felt his release paint your walls white, bringing you into a second orgasm.

He stayed inside you for a while, hovering over your tired body as he caught his breath. Eventually, he pulled out, his cum spilling from your clenching hole, making him sigh in pleasure at the sight. He kissed your temple before moving to get off the bed. You watched, spent, as he searched for his shirt in the dark, the hallway light dimly illuminating the room. For a second, you were scared that he was just going to go back to his own room, but after he found the shirt, he came back to your side. Wordlessly, he wiped you clean, even wiping at the beads of sweat that accumulated on your skin.

Tired, he let himself collapse beside you, pulling you against his chest.

“Did you mean it?” you asked in a small voice.

“Hmm?”

“When… When you said you loved me.”

You felt him tense under you for a second before relaxing. His arms held you tighter against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat.

“Yeah.” He paused, the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for the right words to say. Nothing he came up with seemed right; he opted to stay silent and waited for your response. When it didn’t come, he looked down at you, only to be met with your sleeping face. He sighed, his breath shaky as his eyes burned. He pressed a single kiss on the crown of your head. “Good night, sweets.”

THREE HOURS.

Chaewon had been spamming your phone, the distinct buzzing of each message waking you up. Jake slept through the sound of you typing, exhausted from the night before.

Where are you???? Get your ass here NOW before I come and get you myself

Are you even awake? 

Girl, if you’re not here in the next hour I’ll punt you into the next century

Swearing, you carefully slipped out of Jake’s grasp. When he didn’t stir, you shook him gently. He mumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around your middle as he deeply inhaled your scent. “Jake, we gotta’ wake up now. Chaewon’s having a cow and I don’t think we want to upset the bride today.”

At your words, Jake murmured something you couldn’t hear before finally peeling himself off you, looking at you with sleepy eyes and messy hair. “Wha’ time isit?” he slurred, stretching his arm.

“It’s twelve, so we have to go. Like, now.”

Thankfully, that seemed to wake Jake up, and he sat up quickly. “Damn, okay,” he pushed his hair back. “Get changed and everything, and I’ll meet you at the door.”

You watched as he leaped off the bed, picking up his soiled clothes from the floor. He made his way to his own room, and you heard the shower turn on. In the time it took for you to brush your teeth and get changed, Jake had showered and hastily shoved on some comfy clothes, his attire being left with Heeseung as well.

The drive to the hotel where the bridal and groom's parties were getting ready was quiet, partially from sleepiness and partially because of the unfinished conversation from last night, filling the air with thick tension. His hand rested on the middle console, palm up, but you didn’t take it.

When you got to the hotel, you were quickly ushered to your respective rooms by other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Jake could only watch as you disappeared behind a room door before getting shoved into one himself.

He didn’t see you again until later, when the wedding was about to start, and the pairs were meant to walk down the aisle. Since you were Chaewon’s maid of honour and Jake was Heeseung’s best man, you were paired together. When you finally saw him, you felt the air leave your lungs. His hair was styled so it was out of his face, save for a few strands that hooked over his forehead. His suit was entirely dark blue, from his blazer to his tie, and it made him look unfairly handsome.

Your mouth felt dry as you linked arms with him, listening for your cue to walk.

Unbeknownst to you, he felt similar. You looked stunning in your baby blue satin dress, and he thought it hugged your curves in such a way that he almost wanted to cover you up so only he could see you like this. His heart pounded in his chest at your touch. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you waited, making the couples behind you snicker. You blushed, your face warming as you rubbed your lips together anxiously.

“As do you,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes shyly. “You look really good.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened up, and that was your cue. The venue was gorgeous, as expected since Chaewon planned most of it. The sight of the aisle and the altar made your heart soar for her, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your own ring finger the closer you and Jake got to the end of the aisle.

You sent him a smile before you retreated to your respective spots. As the rest of the couples and the flower girl made their way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Jake. You wondered how you looked, staring over at the best man when there were so many things you should’ve been paying attention to.

Clearing your throat, you looked forward.

When you finally saw Heeseung, your heart clenched. You fisted the fabric of your dress as you watched him wait for his bride-to-be. This motion didn’t go unseen by Jake, whose jaw clenched.

When Chaewon appeared from behind the door, the room erupted into cheers as everyone stood. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched your cousin, veiled, take small steps closer to her future husband. You knew your makeup was going to be ruined by the end of the night, but you couldn’t help but cry once she reached Heeseung. You glanced at him once more before staring down at your heeled feet.

The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, Chaewon and Heeseung’s beautiful vows leaving everyone in tears. You had even caught Jake wiping away some stray tears. You watched with a sense of longing as Chaewon and Heeseung made their way down the aisle. You didn’t realize that Jake had been staring at you the whole time, not even when it was your turn to walk out.

The banquet was to start half an hour later. You and Jake had gotten separated in the commotion outside of the venue hall. You heard him call out to you, but you couldn’t see him over the large, bustling crowd of wedding guests. Knowing that you’d see him at the banquet, you slipped further into the crowd until you found a balcony. Peaking your head out, you let out a breath of relief when there was no one there.

The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over everything it touched. A beautiful sight, you thought as you leaned against the railing. You closed your eyes as you thought back on the wedding. It had been the exact wedding the Chaewon had planned years ago, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be truly happy. How could you, after all, after watching Heeseung look at Chaewon with such love and adoration? 

When someone called your name, you turned around to see Jake standing there, slightly unkempt from the crowd. “I finally found you,” he heaved, gesturing back to the hall that was still full of busy wedding goers. “Man, the banquet is literally in the room over from the wedding hall—they couldn’t be a little more patient in moving over?” He shook his head in mock disbelief as he joined you.

He looked at you, ready to make a joke, but paused when he saw your face. His smile dropped as he turned to face you fully. “You’re crying,” he noted, cupping your cheek. You blinked in surprise, having not noticed how tears had welled up in your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweets?”

You turned around, pulling your face out of his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I don’t know,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I just… when I saw them—”

“Is it Heeseung?”

His cold, clipped tone shocked you. When you looked at him in confusion, his expression had hardened. “What—”

“Why does seeing him with her still hurt you? I thought you were fine,” his words were level, but you heard the slight tremble of his voice.”You said you moved on.” 

Sputtering, you turned to him with an indignant glare. “Jake, it’s not that easy—”

Scoffing, he took a step back from you. “So what? The last two weeks meant nothing to you? Last night meant nothing to you? I…” He gripped at his hair, stressed. “I told you I loved you, and you’re still crying over Heeseung?”

It dawned on you how he perceived your words, and an unsettling fear grabbed at you as you went to explain yourself. “What? Jake, no, I’m not—”

He gave you no room to speak, interrupting you hastily, words tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them. “I have always loved you,” he confessed, voice breaking. “Ever since we were kids, for me, it’s always been you. I came to you because I love you. I spent these last two weeks with you because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to see me as more than a best friend or… or someone who’s convenient for you.” You watched in horror as his eyes watered, stepping forward to grab his arm to explain, but he ripped his arm away from your grasp. “I can see now that you never will.”

“Jake, wait—!” Your cry fell on empty ears as he turned to leave you alone on the balcony, his back feeling unreachable as he reached for the doorknob to go back inside. At this point, the crowd in the hall had dispersed, and you were sure the banquet was starting. But none of that mattered—what mattered was stopping Jake from leaving before you could tell him the truth.

Swallowing your fears, you called out his full name. You sighed in relief when he paused, but your hands shook at your sides as you forced your next words out. “He made me feel like I was unlovable,” you uttered, voice just barely above a whisper. For a second, you were worried he hadn’t heard you, but he turned his head slightly. Finding the courage to continue, you stepped forward. “I’m not… I don’t love Heeseung, Jake. I haven’t loved Heeseung for a really fucking long time.”

But what happened between us gave me all of these terrible thoughts that I didn’t…. That I don’t know how to handle. I thought I was perfectly fine dealing with my insecurities on my own before you came.” He turn his head more, allowing you to see his profile. You saw him open his mouth, ready to retort, but you narrowed your eyes at him. “Sim Jaeyun, if you interrupt me again, I’ll kick your ass.” Your threat wasn’t all that threatening, considering the fact that you were near to tears, but he listened and shut his mouth.

“When you showed up at my apartment, I thought I was going mad. You made me feel like that. It was suddenly so different between us and I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying these things like you were trying to fluster me, and I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine or if my fucked up mind was just creating scenarios where you might actually love me.” Tears were freely falling now, smudging your eye makeup and leaving its trail in your foundation. You stepped closer to Jake, who had fully turned to face you. You stopped, leaving a few meters between you as if you were scared of crossing an invisible boundary.

“Last night was the best night of my life. And every time before that, you made me feel complete and made me so happy, Jake. You made me feel… normal. It felt like I was myself again for the first time in months, but there was something else there, too.” You looked into his eyes, unable to tell what he was thinking. You swallowed thickly, “I don’t love Heeseung, and you’re a fool if you think I do. But it’s so fucking hard to shake off the feeling that at any point you could find someone better, someone who’s prettier, or—”

Jake was quick to close the distance between you, his lips downturned into a scowl as he glowered at you. “Just shut up already,” he spat, cupping your face in his hands and bringing his lips to yours. You felt a thousand times lighter as you kissed him back with the same fervour as him, your tears mixing into the kiss. He dropped a hand to rest on your hip, bringing you flush against him. Once he pulled away, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours as his shoulders rose and fell quickly.

When he finally opened his eyes, gone was the pain and hurt. Now, when he looked at you, he looked with adoring eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “You might not believe me yet, but just know that whenever I look at you, all I see is the person I want to spend my life with. There isn’t anyone better or prettier—there’s only you.”

He met your eyes before kissing you again. 

You looked into his eyes once you pulled away, a thousand thoughts swirling behind your irises. “I love you,” you breathed out. You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you smiled tearfully at him. “Help me believe you.”

Jake laughed in disbelief, bringing you close to his chest.

“We have all the time in the world to get there, sweets.”

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[cambion-companion]

Here’s ya girl who has gone completely feral over astarion. He’s the babiest baby. Okay, here’s the prompt. My characterisation could be a bit (or a lot lol) off bc I haven’t played the game Y E T so feel free to change the things that seem OOC.

Established relationship, but the beginnings of it, on a mission to find a way for astarion to be in the sun again. Reader has given astarion time to work on his sexual trauma so they haven’t been having sex for some time. Reader is 100% ok w that. But they have a big argument over something (not related to sex) and astarion doesn’t know how to resolve the situation other than reverting back to his seductive artifice and using sex as a way to ensure his safety (in this case, emotional safety). Reader figures it out because they (or she) are not dumb. They reassure astarion and he lets himself be vulnerable but also, it turns out that astarion wants that sexual intimacy. But reader decides this will be all about astarion and making him feel good and loved. Body worship, astarion’s praise kink, just everything focused on astarion’s pleasure in a way he has never experienced and that makes him completely unravel once he comes. Not a subby reader, tho. You know me, I don’t do subby.

If this is too long of a prompt, just the sexy part will be ok. Thank you so much, i have such astarion brainrot DDDD:

I Want to Live

word count: 1700

gn!reader x Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic | 18+ only

"I don't think we should use the tadpoles for anything, Astarion." You put your hands on your hips, glaring at the sulky Elf in front of you.

This tense conversation between the two of you had gone on far longer than you'd have liked. Astarion seemed insistent on using whatever advantage the Illithids had unintentionally given your party. Despite not yet knowing the implications of doing so.

Astarion's silver hair glinted in the firelight that warmed your back, his eyes shone like droplets of blood. "You might as well leave me alone, spoilsport." He waved an imperious hand in your direction, sneering at you in the way he knew would hurt you most. "Since you insist on being boring and unimaginative."

You ground your teeth. "I'm trying to keep us safe."

"And a fine job you're doing, my sweet." His lilting voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask Arabella how her parents are doing?" He paused, then feigned surprise. "Oh wait..."

Your eyes widened as a jolt of genuine pain lanced through your heart at his callous words. Astarion was aiming to do damage and, like always, he knew how to push your buttons.

Magic sparked at the end of your fingertips as you fought to control your rage. It was the lack of verbal response that alerted Astarion to the fact he might have pushed a little too far with you. His face almost looked regretful for a moment, or perhaps it was a trick of the firelight casting shadows across his features. You didn't gain much insight because of the tears blurring your vision as you quickly turned away and strode as far away from the vampire spawn as you could.

Shadowheart, who always seemed to overhear everything, cast a worried glance your direction before leveling a glare on Astarion who still watched after you with a blank look.

You sat yourself upon your bedroll before the campfire and listened to Volo squeakily tune his lute. Wyll and Gale were over by their tents chatting and Lae'zel sat on a boulder by the river sharpening her sword.

You had thought Astarion would understand and perhaps even agree with you, and the rest of the camp for that matter, that the parasites should not be utilized to gain control of other beings. It was convenient and downright useful, yes...but not worth an unknown cost.

You had thought...since that night when the two of you had become intimate...that he'd maybe come to care for you. But that jab about Arabella's parents, who you'd failed to save, only confirmed that the vampire did not have your best interests at heart.

Sighing, you moved your bedroll away from its usual place beside Astarion's and arranged it next to where Karlach slept. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching you move about but you didn't much care at the moment.

Karlach gave you a curious and concerned look as she came over and got comfortable for the night. "Are you alright? I could hear you and Astarion going at it...and not in the fun way."

You grunted and moved your body to the side so you could scrape out a rock that had been digging into your back. "It's fine. He's just an ass." You said these words loud enough for him to hear.

Karlach shrugged and nodded as if this were common knowledge. She gave you a jolting pat on the back before getting comfortable in her own bedroll.

As the breathing patterns of your companions slowly deepened in slumber, you could not find any rest. You tossed and turned as best you could in such primitive sleeping arrangements. You missed your bed back in Baldur's Gate above the taproom of the Shadowcat Claw, the familiar bustle of voices and a mug of ale in your belly lulling you to sleep. Out in this wilderness, with the thought of your argument with Astarion tugging at your thoughts...you had to get up.

As quietly as you could, you slid out of your bedroll and got to your feet. A quick observation of your companions told you they were all in a deep sleep. All except Lae'zel who sat on the boulder still, keeping silent watch. She nodded at you curtly as you passed and didn't ask any questions, for which you were grateful.

You crept through the foliage down to the place in the forest by the river where you and Astarion had had your midnight tryst. You could still feel his moonlight hair running through your fingers, his fangs on your neck as you arched it just for him. The trust...you thought you had at least earned a little bit of his trust.

"I thought I'd find you here." His voice was velvet, it shivered straight through your defenses to your heart.

"I wanted to be alone, Astarion." You tried to keep your own voice cool and collected, but you ached to hold him in your arms again.

Astarion had followed you from the campsite into the woods. He'd been fully aware of your restlessness, of course he had. He entered your line of sight now, looking very much like a cat stalking its prey. His ruby eyes were dark and trained on your face. "Come now, you're far too obvious for all this bluster. Do you not want to feel me again?" He gave you a crooked smile, showing his teeth. "A second taste, perhaps?"

You felt the hollowness of his words and saw the carefully arranged expression he wore like a mask. Beneath the facade you could make out the telltale twitch of a facial muscle, the tenseness of his eyes, indicating anxiety.

You sighed. "I thought we were passed these games."

"Games?" Astarion's tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Games are all part of the fun, my dear. So good at getting the blood pumping."

You folded your arms. "I want an apology."

This tripped him up. For a moment the facade slipped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. "Apologize?" Then he was back to his usual bluster. "Me? Apologize for what?"

"For having a go at me today. Bringing up Arabella's parents when you know how upset I am about it." Astarion made a noise as if to speak but you cut across him. "That was cruel, Astarion, and I deserve better from you."

"I didn't..." Astarion sighs heavily, his eyes glancing down to the ground then back at your face. "I apologize." The words seemed to pain him in some way. "I wanted to get a rise out of you, that's all. Now let's forget about that and have some fun."

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, saying nothing, simply watching his face lit in the silver moonlight. His unconvincing grin slowly slipped off his face, a troubled frown replacing it. The two of you looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, you spoke.

"You're testing how much I care for you, aren't you?" Your voice was soft, almost inaudible over the rippling stream.

Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback, he seemed to consider taking shelter once more behind his mask of pompous indifference. But then his shoulder's slumped slightly, the fists at his sides loosened. That was all the answer you needed.

You stepped forward and placed your hands around his, tugging him closer. He did not resist, his footfalls light as ever as he drew near. Close enough to feel his breath warm your lips.

"I care about you, Astarion." Your voice was still soft amidst the rustling leaves and sparkling water. "I discourage you from using the tadpole's powers because I couldn't bear to see your will overtaken by yet another monster."

Astarion was silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes turned silver as a moonbeam fell across his pallid face. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "What if it's too late for me? To be anything other than a monster? My only choice is which one." He laughs forcefully, bitterness twisting his mouth.

"I won't let that happen." You encircled him tenderly in a hug, pulling him to rest flush against your body. "We're in this...together."

"Together." The word was echoed back to you, his voice framing the syllables as if it were a foreign tongue.

You turned your face into him and kissed his neck softly, feeling his body tense in your arms and then slowly relax. You kept your lips against his skin, over where Cazador had sunk his fangs all those centuries ago.

Astarion's hands slowly slid up your hips to rest against your lower back as he held you close. Your lips caressed his neck, throat and trailed up to his jaw until you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." You murmured.

You felt him tense again, not pushing you away, but his hands tightened on your back. "I..." Astarion hesitated. "I'm not quite ready to say those words back to you, my dear."

"I know." You felt no anger, no hurt. You accepted him however he wished to come to you, grateful for this rare moment of vulnerability beneath the stars.

You pushed him back gently until his back made contact with the base of a large sycamore tree. A huff of air left his lungs, quickly claimed by your mouth as you kissed him hungrily this time. Your hands made quick work of his clothing and Astarion became eager to help the process along.

"Vixen." He murmured and you laughed against his lips, your tongues teasing each other.

"You're beautiful, Astarion." You held his face in your hands and kissed his mouth lightly, not allowing him to turn away even as the compliment made his eyes search yours for hints of disingenuity. "I want nothing from you in return." You said firmly, reading his emotional turmoil through your shared Illithid connection. "This is just for you." You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. "To keep."

Astarion's head fell back to rest against the tree trunk as you continued lavishing affection upon him. He moaned your name softly to the night sky as you slowly sunk to your knees before him, the dirt and rocks digging unheeded against your knees. His fingers twisted in your hair and guided you to where he wanted you most.

"Good, my love." You praised him, your words causing his body to shake with increasing pleasure. "Show me."

The night was long and full of bliss. A genuine exchange of pleasure, without the previous facades and plays at affection. You felt the change as surely as he did, and when the others awoke in the morning it was to find your bedroll pulled back right next to where Astarion lay curled against you.

~

"You owe me five gold, Shadowheart." Gale mumbled.

[fourmoony]

Just thinking about Sirius trusting reader enough to do his hair :,) or maybe she experiments with putting his hair in curlers/curling it. I could even imagine Sirius owning a Dyson airwrap to have the best blowouts 😭💀

Sirius would 100000% own the dyson air wrap!!! Thanks for requesting, babe!

cw: none

750 words, modern au

You're not sure where Sirius learned his money managing skills from (or if he even has any), but the pleased smile and child-like excitement over his brand new hair dryer is something you refuse to admonish. Though, you're sure even if you tried, you'd fail.

Your boyfriend bounces happily on the balls of his feet, hair sopping wet and plastered to his face. Water droplets seep into his grey shirt but Sirius doesn't seem to care. Not when he's too busy making bedroom eyes at the unopened box on the bathroom counter. He'd been so happy when John Lewis finally had the Dyson Air Wrap back in stock, had dragged you out of bed this morning to drop an easy five hundred quid on it. Your head had spun with the realisation of just how rich your boyfriend actually is.

He's not flashy with his money. Irresponsible, yes. But being there to witness a classic Sirius-Black-Irresponsible-Purchase had really solidified the knowledge that your boyfriend is filthy rich.

"Okay, I'll grab a stool and you set it up." He says, turning to make for the stool that sits under your dressing table.

"Wait, you want me to do it?" You yell after him.

Sirius makes noise everywhere he goes. He's loud and abrasive, jagged around the edges. He loves so loud that it only makes sense his entire personality is the same. There's thumps and grumbles as he bumps into things all the way along the hall, the tell tale sounds of the stool scraping along your freshly painted hallway. "Well who else would do it?" Sirius rounds the corner, flashes his teeth in a wide grin that he knows will make you fold.

"What makes you think I'm qualified?"

Sirius shrugs, "The fact that I'm one hundred percent not. You're good at everything, sweetness."

He knows flattery works like a charm, especially when he pairs it with his best flirty eyes. You sigh, reaching for the box and unravelling all of the corresponding pieces. It's high tech, incredibly high tech. Sirius fidgets on the stool as you watch a video on your phone, lips curled between your teeth in concentration.

It takes a while to get the hang of, and you're sure you'll get better in time. Sirius softens and relaxes as much as he ever allows himself to as your fingers work through his hair, as you brush and comb and dry it. He hums and sighs and even closes his eyes. It's peaceful and intimate and it allows you to come to a startling realisation that Sirius has never asked you to do his hair for him before.

He's not prissy about his hair. He'll let anyone touch it. He actually begs for people to play with his hair. But he's never outright asked you to fix it up for him, prefers to get it sitting perfect by himself because he believes it to be his best asset. You'd have to disagree with him on that. His eyes never fail to amaze you, nor his smile.

"All done." Your voice seems to pull him out of a daydream.

His eyes open and he smiles wide, turning in the stool in an instant until he can take your hands in his. "Bad news, sweetheart, you're going to have to do this every day." He informs you, standing until his hands can reach your hips.

He pulls you into him, a little roughly, but catches you with his own body, lips ducking down to press to your forehead. You resist the urge to tell him you'd be happy to do his hair every day, if only to feel the intimacy and pride of being the one person he trusts to style his hair.

"Such a travesty." You feign indifference, lips pressed to his collar bone where it peeks out of his shirt.

Sirius shivers at the contact. "Easy, sweetness. I know my hair is super hot and stuff, but we have dinner reservations with James and Remus. They'll get pissy if we cancel to have sex."

"Again." He adds after a second.

You scoff, pushing your boyfriend away whilst he barks with laughter. Heat creeps up your neck as you exit the bathroom, ignoring Sirius' shouts down the hallway that he could make an exception for a quickie.

"Thanks, baby!" He calls a moment later.

You can't fight the smile that toys at your lips as you pick out an outfit for dinner.

[blingblong55]

Snow at the beach- John "Soap" MacTavish NSFW

Based on a request: Hi there. I wanted to make a request for something a bit personal. All this week, my family has been criticizing my weight (which I have struggled with my whole life) and told me point-blank that no one would ever love me because of it. That being said, I would like to request a writing with Soap. Let's say the reader has been avoiding sex with him for a while. They'll kiss and stuff, but as soon as he starts pulling her shirt up, she pulls it back down and makes some sort of excuse. This goes on for a while until Soap confronts her about it. She basically then goes off, pointing out all her bodily flaws and how fat and hideous she thinks she is and asks him how he could ever think she was sexy. And all he says is, “How can I NOT?” And he makes love to her and every time she makes a complaint about her body or calls herself ugly, she shushes her, ultimately taking her in front of a mirror and making her look at herself and how sexy she looks taking him. And when they're done, Soap should talk about how she's not fat, she's cute and squishy. ---- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, established!relationship, self!degrading, body!issues, unprotected!sex, plus size/chubby!reader ----

A/N: anon, I hope you find love from family elsewhere, there words are not correct because love is not by bodies, its by hearts and emotions. Anyway, I got carried away in the smut...love you <3

Three weeks ago, the issue started. Your family decided to visit you and your boyfriend, and that's exactly when they commented how he must be lying to you about loving you. Surely a man like himself wouldn't be with a girl like you. "A girl like me?" you asked and your mother nodded. You know, big…fat and if we are honest, ugly because your body makes you ugly, honey," she feigns kindness as she says this. You don't let her see how terrible her words hurt, so when Johnny and your family were talking, you excused yourself and walked to the bedroom.

In the comfort of the room, you cried, wiped your tears and fixed your makeup. What if they were right? What if Johnny was just trying to pretend to love you to get with a woman who according to them is beautiful? It's funny, watching yourself cry in front of the mirror when just that morning, Johnny watched you smile as you applied makeup.

Once they were gone and the night took over the skies, Johnny found himself sitting on the bed, waiting as his bonnie got out of her shower. He looks around, impatient because he knows how naturally beautiful you look after your showers. If it were for him, he'd create a temple just to worship you, because to him your beauty comes from within.

When you two lay in bed, he turns to you, his hands caressing your sides as his eyes look over your lovely goddess-like body. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in an ever-loving kiss. He places himself on top of you, his hands wandering into your shirt as they always do. Usually, this would bring butterflies but with the conversations held during the day, those butterflies were long gone from your system. All you could think about was the truth that you believed from the serpents you call family.

"Sorry, I'm…tired, Johnny, not tonight, okay?" you say and he nods. He is a gentleman after all so if you say no, that's where it ends and he just cuddles you to sleep.

After the three-week mark, his patience runs thin. You avoid his neck and shoulder kisses, you no longer sleep in the comfy tank top you like. You begin to distance the intimacy of tough he would provide. Of course, he would respect your desire to not have sex but he knows there is something more deeper than tiredness or lack of lust for him.

"Lass, what's the matter?" he asks one night and you sigh. It was time the truth lay in bed with you both. "I don't think we should continue this," you say, trying to keep distance. It was common for you to do this with men you thought were too good to be true for you, you break it off and regret it later. But he is different; you never see life after Johnny because he is it for you.

"Naw, we're no' daein this. Ye cannae just expect me tae accept this," he says with hints of sadness. "Johnny, it's not fair if you say with me. You don't deserve to be with a girl of my size-" you say and he cuts you off. "Don't ye dare finish that thought, bonnie. Ye're this incredible, gorgeous girl an' I'm one lucky bastard tae hae found ye afore another man did. I love ye, I love that silly wee mind, I love wakin' up tae ye beside me," he says and leans in. Your eyes try to play strong against the floods of tears that threaten to drown your eyes.

He takes your hand into his, placing it over his heart, "Ye're this smart, funny, stupid at times," he chuckles and goes on, "..look, whit I'm trying tae say is, I love ye. I dinnae see myself with some lass ye think I deserve, whatever that stupid thing meant. I deserve a bonnie that holds me close when I come home frae work. The kind of lass that takes me tae quiet places because she likes them, the kind of lass that makes me laugh so hard, the kind of lass I see masel' in fifty years," he says before he gets emotional and clears his throat.

"My mum always said, find yer other half, worry about their looks when they are sick and dinnae tell ye. An' damn it, y/n, I worry when ye get sick and don't smile, I worry when ye look in that damn mirror and think tae yersel' that yer body isnae enough. So dinnae tell me yer not enough for me when every damn day I find masel' worshippin' yer body like it's my religion. I fuckin' love you," he says out of breath as he looks into your eyes. His gaze is full of sincerity.

You shake your head. "I'm fat, even if I wanted to, there are things I can't do, I prefer dim lights for sex…I limit your life of adventure by being this way," you say with tears finally falling. "Look at me, I'm just not deserving of you. A guy like you doesn't just magically fall in love with a girl like me!" you say frustrated in wanting him to understand.

"Cut the bullshit, bonnie! I rather die for ye than any other girl! Cannae ye see that ye have bewitched my heart and soul with those sweet eyes and lips? That yer laughter alone makes me a madman when I cannae hear it? I have fallen for ye over and over, and if it takes me lifetimes tae make ye realise I'm the one that needs yer soul attached to mine, then I'll sit and wait for ye tae understand that." he holds both your hands by now as he pulls you in.

"You don't get it-!"

"Maybe I don't, but god damn do I love ye," he says breathlessly and cups your face and without a warning, kisses you like there is no tomorrow.

"Ye are the love of my life. Skinny, tall, fat, short, stupid or smart, I love ye and I fucking love this gorgeous body of yours," he says between pecks to your lips.

Your tears staining your cheeks as he wipes them away and makes you walk to the mirror. "Look at ye, bonnie. Men used to worshipped women like ye,…still do," he mumbles the last part.

You look at him and he smirks. He closes the door and bends you over the sink. "Just look at how I make love tae ye, yeah? If you dinnae believe I love you the way ye are, break up with me," he kisses the back of your neck, taking grip of your hair and slowly parts your legs, undoes your clothes and spits on his fingers.

The euphoria and anticipation built up in Johnny as he let out a chuckle, his hand sliding up your leg to grab your ass. "Yer goin' to make me a madman, ye wee temptress," he whispered, tilting your head down to kiss him. His tongue slithered into your mouth, pressing you against him more, feeling your fingers stroking his hard cock.

His hand slid back to your ass, squeezing it before he turned you around. "Bend over the table and show me that ass," he demanded, his voice a mix of desire and command. He was losing control, thinking of how tight and perfect your ass was. 

Your body is the perfect temple for his every loving heart and it's time he worships it again but better this time.

"Fuckin' perfect," Soap praised, eyeing your wet pussy and puckered ass. His cock twitched, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He stepped up, taking one of the lube from the table, unscrewing the cap after squirting it on his fingers. "Ease back against me, lass," he ordered, spreading the lube on your puckered hole.

"Take my fingers," he commanded, coating two fingers in lube before slowly pushing them into your ass. Johnny groaned softly at the sensation, feeling your muscles clench around his fingers. "That's it," he praised, his other hand fondling your pussy, slick with your arousal. The scent of sex filled the air, heavy and intoxicating.

"Come on, lass… Tease me some more," he growled, pulling his fingers out, his cock aching to fill you. Johnny stepped away for a moment to roll a condom onto his cock, grunting with the effort of restraint. When he stepped back, his eyes were dark and intense. "Slip those wee cheeks apart…" He commanded eyes on your ass. "Ye're mine, Y/N."

"Nngh," Johnny groaned, the sight of you eagerly waiting for him driving him over the edge. "Alright, lass, take it," he growled, pushing his cock against your tight entrance. He lined his tip against your tight pussy lips, feeling you quiver even more.

"Ye feel fuckin' amazing, ye know that?" He asked jaw clenched as he slowly pushed himself inside you. Your tight walls engulfed him, sending shivers down his spine. "Such a perfect lass," Johnny moaned, grinding his hips, a bit rougher into yours. He grabbed your hips, holding them tightly, feeling that you were made for his cock.

"Fuckin' take all of me," he growled, pulling back slightly before plunging himself in deep, the sound of their clothes slapping together, your moans and his grunts filled the air. Johnny began to thrust into you, each stroke harder and more intense than the last. His grip on your hips tightened, feeling a roughness in him, a need to claim you. "Ah, ye like that, Y/N…don't ye?" He snarled, his voice bordering on a roar.

His hand snakes to your throat, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your body and his move in a cosmically beautiful passion as he makes love to you in the best way he can. Your eyes lock with his, the love he has for you is evident in the soft eyes he gives you. He fucks you like a whore but treats you like the princess you are, and that's what makes this all so beautiful.

Your whimpers, mixed with that beautiful face that is riddled with pleasure makes him chuckle a little. "Oh, ye're beggin' for it. Ye dirty kinky slut," Johnny hissed, his hands leaving your hips, only to grab your hair, yanking your head back into an almost uncomfortable angle. "Take it, take my cock, and scream for me, lass," he demanded, increasing his pace, his thrusts harder, leaving no time to catch your breath.

He leaned down to nibble your neck, "You make me feel alive, ye know that, Y/N? I live for this, for the way I lose myself in ye, for the way ye take my cock so perfectly." Johnny's breathing grew ragged, "Fuck, ye're so tight, so wet."

"I'm gonna cum, deep inside ye. I'm gonna fill ye up," he grunted, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Cum with me, lass. Show me how you feel--" He didn't finish, unable to stop himself as they reached their peak together, his cock pulsing inside you, his cum filling your sweet pussy as he moaned your name, his pleasure ringing through the chamber. "Ah, Y/N…!"

You scream in pleasure his name, earning his pants to get rougher as he so gently kisses your neck. His eyes never leave that sight of you in the mirror.

"Nngh," Johnny groaned, his cock throbbing inside you as he waited for the aftershocks of your orgasm to subside. He waited for your body to steady, enough to pull out without making a mess. "Easy, Y/N," he whispered, slowly pulling out and tucking his spent cock away.

"Ye made me cum so hard, and I love every second of it," he praised, grabbing his clothes. Johnny lifts your chin to look at him. "That was… fuckin' amazing, lass," he admitted, unable to stop a grin.

He brushed the hair back from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Ye always leave me breathless, Y/N," he chuckled, a feral gleam in his eyes. 

Your face cooling down as you lean to his kiss your arms wrap around him so beautifully. He lifts you and smiles, "Ye believe me now?" he kisses your cheek and you nod. A moment like this, where you can sit naked in front of him, where it feels like a realistic romance movie, where the girl finds the guy that was made for her.

He truly does love you, no matter the size or shape…or even if others whisper venomous words into your ear. He is the land of peace in which your body has found comfort, the one man that in a sea of snakes and evil standards makes you feel at home, even if you wake up looking like a mess. In this world, he and you stick together, not for the looks or the vanity the world tells you, you must fit in. His love is rare, comes every few lifetimes, it's beautiful and weird like snow at the beach.

A/N: at the end of the day, you need to love yourself, no matter your size of if you meet society's standards of beauty because you are your own standard of beauty. I love you, but I'm sure your love for yourself is stronger <3 (which it should be) Also, only tagged those that let me know they are comfortable with plus size!reader pics and those that I believe dont mind it

Tags:

@honestlyhiswife @ikohniik @who-can-appease-me @konigssultwithghost @lovelyvqer @nobodys-coffee @the_royal_bee @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @anonymuslydumb

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Airborne Lessons (18+ ONLY)

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

(We really need more airplane Hotch gifs)

For my lovely @h-c-u for giving me this idea <3

Summary: On the plane back home, Aaron punishes you for being a tease.

WC: 1.6k works

Warnings: SMUT ( 18+ MINORS DNI), established relationship, dom!Hotch/sub!reader, slight power imbalance, semi-exhibitionistic?, brattiness, Hotch is a lil mean just how i like him mwahahaha, use of remote control toy, masturbation, lil bit of jealous Hotch!!!!, implied BAU!reader, trust me there is aftercare later on (ALWAYS PRACTICE IT), let me know if anything else!!!

———

Stop squirming. 

Right after reading the text, you looked up at Aaron, who just so happened to be engrossed in the case file in his hands.

With a small huff, you readjusted in your seat. You refused to respond, instead crossing your arms over your chest. The intensity of the vibrating toy inside of you increased suddenly, causing you to stop breathing, eyes screwed shut.

Your phone buzzed with a new text message mere moments later.

Unless you want to get caught, of course.

This time, you shot him a glare, and he raised an eyebrow slightly — a challenge.

“Hey, you good?” Derek asked, leaning over from his seat.

You tensed at his nearness, composing your face to something more easy going despite your blushing cheeks.

“Yeah, I just get a little sick of… long plane rides. You know me,” you said, shrugging one shoulder.

He smiled reassuringly. “Lucky for you, no turbulence this time. All smooth sailing for the next two hours.”

“S-sure… no turbulence at all.”

You could hear the faintest huff of amusement coming from Aaron’s direction, and you peered at him once more from the corner of your eye.

Much earlier, before the plane had even taken off, Aaron had finally had enough. While the rule of no intimacy during a case was in effect the whole time, you couldn’t help all of the heated gazes directed at him. 

You’d undress and devour him with just your eyes, and he could tell by your sly little smiles and coquettish demureness whenever he called you out on them — What do you mean? Can’t even look at each other now?

So, as soon as the two of you had boarded the plane, he’d grasped your arm and pulled you into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. 

“What are you doing?” You hissed, wide eyed. “The rest will be boarding pretty soon.”

“Pull your pants down,” he ordered.

You blinked, feigning ignorance. “But why?” 

“Because I said so.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. “Isn’t that an abuse of power, Unit Chief Hotchner?”

"You didn't care about professionalism last time I fucked you over my desk, do you really want to start now?"

You weighed your answer for a moment, but ended up keeping your mouth shut instead. You undid your pants and slid them down towards your knees, your underwear following.

He chuckled. “I thought so.”

Next thing you knew, he’d slid that toy inside of you, which was controlled by an app on his phone. He helped you pull your pants up and leaned in close to your ear, voice low and husky.

“Now you’ll know how I feel every time you look at me like that.”

And so, here you were, unable to relax even as the toy’s intensity diminished. Much to your chagrin, there actually was some turbulence. You closed your eyes to try and imagine yourself elsewhere.

The way the plane rocked and shuddered made you nervous, slick palms gripping the armrests tightly. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, a roil of conflicting sensations brewing inside of you. 

“Okay, maybe I miscalculated, but it’s just a bad patch. We’ll pass it soon enough,” Derek said.

“You okay?” Aaron chimed in, concern in his tone.

You nodded, licking your lips. “Better than ever, sir.”

Reid came over from his seat, kneeling next to you. He brought a hand to your forehead, your skin clammy and warm.

“Hmm, she’s presenting a couple of symptoms of a panic attack. I’ll go get some water, try to get her breathing under control in the meantime.” 

“Aye, aye, captain,” Derek said, raising an eyebrow, half-amused at Reid’s command. “Look at me, baby girl.”

You complied, turning your head and half opening your eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m fine, really, Morgan.”

“Why don’t you breathe with me, and then we’ll see how you feel?” 

He inhaled slowly, holding it for a couple of moments before exhaling just as slowly. You followed his lead, the rhythm feeling more and more natural each time. Your heartbeat slowed some, but it was still beating fast due to what you were trying to hide. You prayed that Derek wouldn’t notice your dilated pupils. 

“There you go, nice and easy,” Derek said reassuringly, patting your arm.

You placed a hand over his, squeezing his fingers gratefully. Reid returned with a bottle of water, opening it before handing it to you. You thanked them both, trying to keep your hand steady as you drank some water.

“I feel so pampered right now,” you chuckled, relishing all the attention.

Across from you, Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed. You tried to contain a smirk, already knowing he was jealous of said attention.

“I’d even say it’s preferential treatment at this point,” he grumbled, re-opening his case file and busying himself.

“Oh, come on, Hotch,” Derek grinned. “She’s our girl, we all gotta look out for each other. Don’t you agree?”

“Aww, if only Hotch was as generous as you two,” you said. “But it’s okay, you make up for it well enough.”

Aaron’s annoyed hum was his only response, at least for the time being. He kept his gaze down, indicating he was done with the conversation… but you knew he wasn’t nearly done with you. 

“I’m fine now, though,” you assured the duo. “You guys should get some rest. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

Derek winked. “Of course.”

Reid simply nodded, making his way back to his seat. You leaned back, taking another sip of water.

And then, a new text message. 

Real cute.

You bit your lower lip to contain your amusement, quickly typing a response.

Aren’t I just?

Of course, he wasn’t going to let it slide. He changed the pattern to increase and decrease intensity at seemingly random intervals. That instantly had you on edge again, and you could feel how slick your inner thighs had become.

Your jaw clenched, but you still tried to appear calm for the sake of the others. Whenever the higher intensity was just about to tip you over the edge, it would wane once more. It was going to drive you crazy, to say the least.

You picked up your cell phone once more, typing with shaky fingers.

Aaron please… I don't think I can keep going. Let me cum or take it out, please!

He took his sweet time responding at first, drawing out this punishment just a little longer.

Both sound like good options. What do you prefer?

— Let me cum please!!!

That’d be very generous, but last time I checked, I’m lacking in that department.

You cursed under your breath, low enough that no one would overhear. You couldn’t hold it much longer, so you figured it’d be better to try and take care of it. Even if it meant undergoing a more severe punishment later.

“I n-need to use the restroom,” you muttered, getting up from your seat and practically wobbling towards the bathroom.

As soon as you shut yourself inside the cramped space, you undid your pants and leaned against the wall. Just when your fingers were about to dip past the hem of your panties, there was a knock on the door.

“It’s me,” Aaron said from the other side.

You opened the door just a tad, face burning as he took in your current state. His nostrils flared as he exhaled slowly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was around.

“I see… I was coming to check on you, but I think you can manage just fine,” he whispered. “I’ll leave you to it, we’ll talk at home.”

He was about to walk away when you reached out with your free hand to grab his arm. His brow furrowed, but did not look at you.

“No, please, I need you,” you pleaded, voice equally low. “Please, Aaron.”

“You had plenty of attention and suddenly you want mine?”

“You know you're the only one. My body is yours, do whatever you want to me, please just let me come.”

He thought about it for a moment, then finally turned his glare in your direction.

"Alright, I'll let you come. But you have to do it yourself,” he said, turning off the toy from his phone. “I’ll watch, but I won’t touch you. And don’t even think of making one sound.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. You got to work immediately, keeping eye contact with him as your fingers slid up and down, up and down your soaked slit. 

You watched his throat work as he swallowed hard. You wished you could be tracing your mouth all over his skin as you touched yourself, but that would have to wait. Instead, you recalled a few things — the heady scent of his aftershave, the firmness of his body, and the sound of his low groans close to your ear. 

“Keep going,” he urged, his low voice now hoarse with want.

Your fingers picked up speed, now circling your clit. It didn’t take long for that warmth in your lower abdomen to fully ignite, and before you knew it, you had stumbled past oblivion.

You ground against your own hand, riding the waves of ecstasy that you had suppressed for too long. Your mouth was slack, eyes closed, but you made sure not to make a sound other than a few sharp exhales.

You hadn’t fully come down from your high when he suddenly grabbed you, capturing your lips in a frantic, bruising kiss. You melted into him, his tongue immediately finding yours. 

Then, just as abruptly, he pulled away, leaving your head spinning. 

He smiled devilishly at your dazed look. “Hope you learned your lesson.”

----

[slaymitchabernathy]

Surprise Party

| a companion to ‘Cold & Calculated’ |

Soarynn POV

While brushing her long blonde hair, Soarynn can’t help but feel nervous about tomorrow. She wishes it was just another Friday but it’s not.

Tomorrow is her husband’s birthday.

Coriolanus turns twenty-five and from what she’s heard from his friends, it’s a very big deal. She wouldn’t know still being nineteen but her husband is a widely celebrated and respected man amongst the Capitol elite.

He’s a Snow.

Which is why for once, Soarynn went out of her way and her comfort zone to plan a surprise party for him. It wasn’t very hard once she mentioned the idea to his mother who adores her son no matter how old he gets. And once she also told Festus Creed about her plans, it was set in stone.

She had to come up with a good lie to cover it up though which was in her opinion, the most daunting part. Everyone else could lie easily but she wasn’t very good at it and her husband has a knack for catching her in a lie.

It’s a good lie, she tells herself, not a bad one.

The last time she lied to him she got a stern talking to which led to her crying for some reason. She didn’t really know why she started crying, maybe it was because she felt bad for lying in the first place or that she felt like a failure to her husband who’s been nothing but good to her.

Either way, she hasn’t lied since.

Until now.

Coriolanus had come home from work last week grumbling about how all of his friends were busy the night of his birthday which was, of course, part of the plan. Soarynn had feigned sympathy and suggested that she book them a reservation at his favorite restaurant.

It took a bit of courage to suggest such a thing, to just spend time together just the two of them. Not that they haven’t done it before. They went on countless dates while courting but being married is entirely different from what she’s experienced.

There are more rules and different expectations. She’s found that there are more ways to let him down, to disappoint Coriolanus.

She’s pulled from her nagging thoughts when the shower turns off and she goes back to brushing her hair, doing her best to act normal. Right now everything is normal.

Coriolanus is home from work, they already had dinner and he had a drink. Soarynn played with Petunia for a while before they both made their way into their bathroom to get ready for bed. She watches through the mirror as he steps out of the shower with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, showing off his sculpted abdomen.

Coriolanus Snow has a very nice body. They’ve only been married for three months but Soarynn has gotten well acquainted with his toned physique. Coriolanus is a man who craves intimacy and she doesn’t mind for the most part as long as he lets her know in advance.

Soarynn found herself entirely sore after their first week of marriage but that was largely due to the fact that they were having sex every single night. They were riding high in their honeymoon phase and both of them were curious about one another when it came down to sex.

Things have cooled down since then and they have sex a few times a week depending on his mood. If Coriolanus is tired after work, it’s nothing but a few kisses before bed. If he comes home frustrated, Soarynn knows he’s going to be rough which she surprisingly doesn’t mind. Every once in a while he’s come home in a wonderful mood and has spent hours pleasuring her, touching her, and eventually, making love to her.

If they can even call it love.

Soarynn cares for him but she doesn’t know if what she feels towards him counts as love. He’s just so…distant. He’s never been mean to her, never yelled or raised his voice. He’s been so good to her, made sure she felt comfortable in a new house, and bought her everything she could ever want. Coriolanus even lets Petunia sit in his lap from time to time.

But she knows that it’s not love.

“Darling?”

Soarynn blinks several times before looking up at her husband who’s looking down at her with furrowed brows, “Yes?”

His eyes rove over her body for a moment before he responds, “I asked if you made the reservations for tomorrow night. It’s sure to be packed.”

You have no idea, Soarynn thinks to herself but she just nods and hums in reply, “Yes I did. Our usual table.”

That seems to be enough confirmation for Coriolanus who goes back to completing his nightly routine. Soarynn’s eyes wander over to the double doors that lead to their large closet and she finds herself thinking about the white box she has tucked away on the highest shelf. She just put it there today but heaven knows if she’ll have the courage to open it tomorrow night.

She went out and bought some lingerie today.

Expensive, provocative, and completely out of her comfort zone. Coriolanus has gotten her a few things here and there since their wedding but Soarynn dresses in her nightgowns most nights they have sex. She, of course, wears a lacy bralette with matching panties but to put on hardcore lingerie makes her nervous.

This specific set she bought today is rose red, with a corseted bodice that pushes her breasts up and cinches her waist. The panties are really a suggestion of fabric in her opinion which means Coriolanus will love them.

And she knows her husband well enough to know that he’ll definitely want to have sex tomorrow night.

She finishes brushing her hair before doing a simple braid down her back and putting on some lotion before getting up from her chair. She carefully takes off her wedding ring and sets it in its designated box she always puts it in before showering and before bed.

When Coriolanus proposed to her, she wasn’t surprised. They both knew it was coming and Soarynn knew she’d say yes. But she didn’t expect him to get her a rock. The diamond is huge, the largest one in all of Panem in fact, all the way from District One.

All her friends gushed over it and they were obsessed with her engagement ring as well. Wearing both is a rare occurrence for Soarynn who doesn’t wish to draw too much attention to her choice of jewelry, but she always wears both when going somewhere with Coriolanus.

She knows how proud it makes him feel to see her ring finger perfectly stacked with the two gold bands.

Coriolanus is already in bed when she steps into their bedroom, Petunia sitting right next to him while he reads a book. Soarynn smiles at the sweet sight, Petunia has taken to living with Coriolanus rather well all things considered. After she decided that his penthouse was up to her standards, she settled in quite nicely.

“Off the bed my darling,” Soarynn says, gently scooping Petunia into her arms, earning her an annoyed meow. Coriolanus smirks and shoots the cat a smug look, “Enjoy the floor.”

Soarynn rolls her eyes because all three of them know that Petunia will sneak back into bed once Coriolanus has fallen asleep. Still, she does her best to discourage the feline from venturing into their bed late at night.

Soarynn sets Petunia down and slips into bed, pulling her yellow nightgown back down when it rides up her thighs. She can see Coriolanus watching her from the corner of her eye but neither of them says anything.

A lot seems to go unspoken between them.

It’s already eleven o’clock and Coriolanus still has to go to work tomorrow which is perfect. Soarynn will be able to pick up his cake, help set up decorations, and get ready in time for them to leave.

She feels a pit growing in her stomach thinking about all the things flag could possibly go wrong but Coriolanus is already turning off his bedside lamp and Soarynn finds herself doing the same.

“Goodnight,” she whispers, staring up at the ceiling.

Coriolanus yawns, “Sleep well.”

She probably won’t.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn wakes up at seven in the morning.

Five minutes before her husband’s alarm is set to go off. Normally she’d just get out of bed to get Petunia out of bed but she finds herself watching him sleep.

He looks much younger when he’s asleep. And now he’s twenty-five.

She wonders if he'll go to these same lengths for her birthday. He has quite a long time to plan it considering that her birthday is in May and his is in November. Still, she wonders if he'd try and sweep it under the rug or try to plan something with her friends the way she has for him. It doesn't matter, she tells herself, her fingers delicately tracing the outline of his jaw.

All that truly matters today is that Coriolanus doesn't grow suspicious about everyone in his life being too busy to celebrate him. Coriolanus is so smart, it took her one date with him to realize that and he's only gotten smarter. According to his mother, he graduated top of his class from the Academy and the University.

His eyes flutter open and Soarynn doesn't pull her hand away for once while she stares back at him. "Happy birthday," she whispers, her fingertips gently pressing into his skin. Coriolanus lets out a low groan and smiles, "Thank you. I must admit that this is a pleasant way to be woken up compared to the alarm." They both grin at his words and Soarynn slowly sits up, bringing her knees to her chest, "Do you feel older and wiser?"

He rubs his hand over his face and yawns, "I most definitely feel older. I encourage you to cherish your youthful knees while you still can." Soarynn cards her fingers through her hair, some of it always comes loose from the braid while she sleeps, "I'll take your word for it." A moment later the alarm goes off, truly signaling the start of their day.

Coriolanus sighs and also sits up next to her, his bare shoulder brushing against hers, "What time did you make that reservation for?" Soarynn's heart beats a little faster at his question. What if he wants to cancel, or go eat somewhere else?

"I made it for seven-thirty," she answers, doing her best to sound casual and nonchalant, "it was rather hard to get it for tonight," she adds. There, now he can't back out if he knows how difficult it was for her to book their table. Coriolanus frowns and his hand comes to rest on her knee, "That's strange, usually they're wide open for us."

For us, meaning, for the Snows who always are a priority for any business establishment in the Capitol. Soarynn shrugs and decides to press a kiss to his cheek as a means to distract him, "Well it's all settled so don't worry about a thing. I'm going to shower and get dressed."

She's slipping out of bed before he can respond and she lets out the breath she's been holding in once she makes it to the bathroom. Why is she still so nervous around him? She's known Coriolanus for well over a year now and she's found him to be a constant source of safety and stability, yes, but also a source of nerves and anxiety. She wants to be perfect for him, she really does. Hopefully, tonight's efforts will show that to him.

Petunia has followed her it seems and she lets out a meow of greeting once she hops onto the countertop. Soarynn smiles at her cat and presses a kiss on the top of her soft head, "Good morning my darling. Today's the day."

Petunia purrs in response and Soarynn gives her some scratches before she decides to take a quick shower. She can see Coriolanus come in through the fogged shower glass and make his way into their closet to get dressed for the day. Once he's dressed, he'll have breakfast and Soarynn will join him. They'll go over their schedules for the day and then she'll walk him to the front doors where she'll kiss him goodbye and promise to see him later that night.

She just hopes that it all goes well tonight.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus POV

"Good morning Mr. Snow, happy birthday."

Coriolanus gives their cook a smile as he sits down at the table, "Thank you very much." Today he turned twenty-five. It's a strange thing to get older but Coriolanus feels confident that he's exactly where he should be in life. On top of the ladder, doing wonderfully at work, and married.

His wife has yet to join him for breakfast but he knows she'll be here in a moment. Three months ago, Coriolanus married Soarynn Nightingale, a girl as kind and beautiful as they come.

It's been an adjustment for the both of them, living together after being raised up as only children but they've managed it quite well and developed a routine of sorts. Before he leaves for work, she kisses him goodbye and promises to run any errands he might need her to run. Once he comes home from work, she greets him at the door with another kiss. The discuss their days at dinner and then he'll have a drink to wind down. They both get ready for bed and depending on his mood, they might have sex. Then it's off to bed to do it all over again.

Coriolanus would be lying if he said that he wasn't disappointed that today was shaping up to be another normal day. He's having dinner with Soarynn tonight which is something to look forward to but none of his friends or family seems to want to celebrate him.

His mother claimed that she had a lady's get-together that she just couldn't miss. His father was apparently going on a business trip and would miss his birthday altogether. Glen Nightingale was going to be stuck in meetings all day long. Festus and his wife Persephone already had dinner plans that they apparently planned months ago. All his colleagues at work had the same excuse to some degree.

He's trying not to be bitter but it's his birthday for fucks sake. Still, he has Soarynn who suggested a dinner for just the two of them which did sound nice. Perhaps after dinner, they'd come home and spend the night tangled up in the sheets.

Taking Soarynn's virginity had been nerve-wracking. He knew that he had to be gentle yet stern. She felt amazing, tight, and eager for him to be inside of her. And the sounds she makes whenever he's inside of her are erotic enough.

Yes, they'll definitely end tonight on a positive note.

His attention is torn from breakfast when he spots a white blur running towards him. Petunia. He breaks into a grin when he sees that she's wearing a small party hat on top of her head. She stops right in front of him and meows as if saying: 'Soarynn made me wear this.'

Coriolanus chuckles and reaches down to pick her up, remembering a time when she fit into the palm of his hand. He also remembers Soarynn claiming that Petunia would grow out of her demanding personality which she hasn't but he doesn't mind the feline for the most part.

Petunia purrs in his hands and makes herself quite comfortable in his lap, eyeing his plate of breakfast. A moment later, Soarynn appears wearing a baby blue dress that looks amazing on her. The waist is cinched and the neckline is very flattering. Coriolanus has grown used to knowing where she is by listening to the sound of her heels clicking against the floor.

She's holding something behind her back and she smiles at the sight of her husband and her cat together, "Well don't you two look like you're getting along?" Coriolanus raises his eyebrows, "This is a one-time thing I can assure you." Soarynn shakes her head and sits down next to him, still hiding whatever it is behind her back. "Petunia got you a gift," she tells him.

Coriolanus can't help but look down at Petunia who's reaching out her paw for Soarynn, already sick and bored of him now that Soarynn is in her line of sight. "You don't say. Is it another hairball?" Petunia shoots him a look as if she understood what he just said and she meows.

Soarynn finally reveals the small box in her hands and sets it on the table, "No, it's not a hairball and you promised that you wouldn't hold that against her." Coriolanus hums and goes to open the box and he can't stop himself from gasping when he sees what's inside of it.

It's a watch. A very expensive watch.

"It's a work of art," he says, taking it out and weighing it in his hands. Soarynn watches him examine it with a small smile on her lips, "She picked it out herself." This is the type of watch that you have to budget for and Coriolanus knows for a fact that he'd notice on their payments if Soarynn made a purchase this large. Which leads him to wonder who really bought this watch. It certainly wasn't Petunia who was practically falling out of his lap to get to Soarynn.

Soarynn humors the cat and reaches out to take her out of his lap, "I see. And did Petunia make the hefty payment for this watch? Or was it a certain Glen Nightingale who pulled the trigger?" The blush that creeps across Soarynn's face is enough of an answer for Coriolanus to know that his father-in-law paid for this gift.

"I will neither confirm nor deny such claims," Soarynn informs him in a haughty tone and Coriolanus scoffs, "I see. Well Petunia, it's an excellent gift, thank you very much." Petunia meows as if she actually paid for this gift and Soarynn smiles, "She's a very good gift giver."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn POV

"I'll see you tonight."

Soarynn nods, giving him a small smile before rising to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, "Have a good day at work." She watches Coriolanus close the doors behind him before she finally lets out her bated breath. He's out of the house so now she just has to hope that no one spoils the surprise.

She doesn't linger long in her thoughts though, there's so much to be done today. Once speaking with the cook and maids, Soarynn dons her winter coat and bids goodbye to Petunia before setting off for the day.

First, she stops at a very expensive store, a store known for its fine leather goods. She's greeted with a smile from the man working at the counter who instantly recognizes her, "Good morning Mrs. Snow, how are you doing this fine morning?"

Soarynn offers the man a polite smile while pulling off her gloves, "I'm doing quite well, thank you. I've come to pick up an order I placed last week." A look of recognition crosses the man's face and he rounds the counter, "Of course, let me go fetch it from the back."

This store and its employees are more than used to Coriolanus coming in and making several purchases for himself and for Soarynn on her behalf. Many of her favorite handbags are from here and they're of excellent quality. Soarynn has only come inside once though, when Coriolanus was in the market for a new wallet.

But she's lately found him eyeing a certain briefcase on display in the shop window whenever they've passed by and it's truly the perfect birthday gift. He's been in the market for a new one for quite some time now and Soarynn knows he won't just buy a new one for himself out of the blue.

The man appears again, a large black box in his hands and he sets it down on the counter in front of them opening the lid for Soarynn to peer inside. She's more than pleased with what she sees. The briefcase is made with a level of craftsmanship only fit for a Snow. And she had his initials engraved on the handlebars.

"It's wonderful," she tells the man with an approving nod, "my husband will love it, thank you so very much." The man is more than happy to place the box in a bag for her before sending her off, "Come again soon Mrs. Snow!" He calls as the heavy doors close behind her. Soarynn is still getting used to that, being recognized by her name, and being known and treated differently because of the ring on her finger.

Soarynn slips into the backseat of the car, gift in tow before instructing the driver where to take her next, "The Grand Oak please." The Grand Oak is one of her husband's favorite places to eat, he's taken her on countless dates there and Soarynn is more than familiar with the staff.

It's a short drive but Soarynn is more than glad for the privilege of being driven from place to place, especially in the colder months.

When she arrives at the Grand Oak she's greeted by the doorman who's more than used to her dining at the restaurant, "Welcome Mrs. Snow," he says while opening the large oak doors, hence the name, the entire restaurant is made of the finest woods and hardware, making it one of the most if not the most expensive restaurants in the Capitol.

"Thank you," she says, making her way into the empty restaurant. They won't open for quite a few hours but Soarynn was granted access to the dining room where they'll be surprising Coriolanus so that she could set everything up. Once checking in her coat at the front, she makes her way down the long hallway that holds all the private dining rooms until she reaches the last and largest one.

Her mother-in-law is already inside and she smiles brightly when she sees Soarynn. "Oh, Soarynn darling, you look positively radiant." Soarynn has never heard a bad thing about Mrs. Snow. She's utterly charming and very kind, always giving Soarynn kind words of encouragement. She managed to raise a good man while marrying one as well. Crassus is at work as is her father, but both men will make appearances tonight.

"It's lovely to see you mother, " Soarynn says, remembering how Mrs. Snow insisted that Soarynn call her 'mother' the last time she saw her. At first, she had been hesitant, mostly since she never knew her own mother, but Coriolanus surprisingly encouraged it. "She sees you as her daughter," he had said one night after Soarynn brought it up to him, "she always wanted a little girl...you're the closest thing she'll ever get." Soarynn was more than honored to be given the privilege of calling Mrs. Snow such a title and she carried it with her wherever she went.

She had been so worried to meet the Snows that fateful night. What if they didn't like her? What if she wasn't welcomed into the family? All those thoughts were put to rest quickly but she still went out of her way to be extra kind and courteous.

Mrs. Snow grins and waves at the dining room, "This is the perfect size darling, and he still doesn't have a clue does he?" Soarynn shakes her head, walking further into the large room, "Not that I know of," she murmurs, a cloud of doubt creeping into her mind. Mrs. Snow scoffs and waves her off, "Trust me, that boy is as clueless as they come with it comes to certain things. He's just like his father in that regard."

Soarynn can relate to being like her father but she's never had a family unit the way Coriolanus does. A mother and a father is something she'll never have.

"Well, it's happening either way. I thought we might start with the balloons and work our way up from there?" She suggests, looking at her mother-in-law for any protest but she finds none, "That sounds perfect darling."

꧁ ꧂

"Here's your cake Mrs. Snow. Would you like some assistance carrying it out to your car?"

Soarynn's eyes widen at the sheer size of the box that holds the birthday cake she ordered at the beginning of the week and she finds herself nodding, "Yes please." Soarynn didn't expect it to be this big but she supposes with a guest list as large as this one, she's better safe than sorry.

Once the cake is safely in the car, Soarynn is headed back home to get ready for tonight. Their driver will deliver the cake to The Grand Oak so that Coriolanus doesn't see anything and grow suspicious although according to Mrs. Snow, he hasn't the slightest idea of what they've planned for him.

Soarynn still can't shake her nerves and finds herself arriving home minutes before Coriolanus does. She snatches Petunia off of the bed and runs into the closet, listening to him walk into their bedroom. "Soarynn? Are you in here?"

She slips off the dress she wore today and pulls out the red one she bought specifically for tonight. It's much more risque than anything she'd normally wear, but tonight is the night to be brave. Her fingertips ghost the white box that holds the lingerie and probably the rest of her courage. She'll cross that bridge later tonight she decides.

"I'm in here," she calls, pulling the dress over her hips. She's just pulling the thin straps over her shoulders when Coriolanus walks in, his hair slightly tussled after a long day of work and his tie loosened. "I was wondering where you...is that a new dress?" Soarynn nods and she doesn't miss how his eyes travel up and down her body, taking note of how tightly this dress fits her. Soarynn wouldn't say she's a very curvy woman, but she has some curves and Coriolanus seems to appreciate them whenever they have sex.

She struggles to tug up the zipper and sighs, she's made it this far into the day, and yet the fucking zipper has been the biggest problem she's had so far. "Yes, it is. Could you zip me up please?" His throat bobs as he approaches her and Soarynn turns around, pulling her hair over her shoulder, baring her back to him.

It's a terribly tense yet tender moment between them. His hand rests on her lower back while the other pulls the zipper up. Soarynn does her best to stay still but it's hard with his warm breath hitting the back of her neck and his hand pressed so firmly right above her ass. Maybe she won't need a lot of courage to don the lingerie tonight.

"How...how was work?" She asks and she tries to ignore how breathless she sounds. The zipper finally reaches the top of the dress but he doesn't pull his hands away, "It was good."

"That's good."

"I was thinking, about dinner, well, about after dinner that is. I was thinking about what we might do after dinner," he gets out and Soarynn swallows, her eyes flitting to the box for a moment before she nods, "Yes. Yes of course, whatever you want."

That seems to be the answer he was looking for because he presses a kiss to the back of her neck before his hands finally disappear from her body, "Wonderful darling. I'm going to take a quick shower and get ready then." Soarynn listens to him leave, her hand coming up to touch the spot he so tenderly kissed moments ago.

She wonders what it would feel like to have him kiss her all the time, so gently and tenderly. Perhaps in another life.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus POV

Soarynn looks so beautiful tonight.

Holding onto his arm as they step into The Grand Oak, he couldn't be prouder in securing himself such a magnificent wife as Soarynn. She's exquisite, the perfect Capitol lady in everything she does. From the way she thanks the doorman to the way she slides off her long coat revealing her red dress that nearly sent him into a spiral.

Coriolanus does his best to control his best to control himself and settles for knowing that he'll have her all to himself tonight. A million unpure thoughts raced through his head when she so innocently asked him to help her with the zipper on her dress and then she had been so pliant, so understanding and willing when he suggested how to end their night.

"Yes. Yes of course, whatever you want."

How did he get so lucky?

"Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Snow, your table is right this way."

Coriolanus rests his hand on Soarynns waist while they follow the hostess down a long hallway, a hallway he's never been down before. It's in the opposite direction of their usual table and the dining room in general. He looks down at Soarynn to see if she finds this suspicious but instead, she looks nervous, she won't even look him in the eye.

"We've never been this way before," he whispers but Soarynn only hums in reply, her eyes trained on the hostess who's stopped in front of the last two large oak doors. "Here you are," the young woman says, nodding at the doors. Coriolanus furrows his eyebrows, so very confused. Did Soarynn book a private dining room for just the two of them?

That seems a bit over the top.

He gives Soarynn a curious look before pushing open the doors and e finds the room pitch dark for only a moment before the lights come on revealing the room filled with family and friends.

"SURPRISE!!!"

Coriolanus is entirely taken aback by the crowd his birthday has garnered, especially because everyone in this crowd claimed they were busy tonight, including his own parents. His mother is the first to reach him and she's already crying, "Oh my darling, you've grown so much! Twenty-five years ago I was in labor right now, can you believe it?" Coriolanus returns her hug and shakes his head, scanning the room, "No mother, I can't believe any of this. I thought you all were busy tonight."

His father claps him on the back and shoots him a teasing look, "Well that's the point of a surprise party Coriolanus." All he can do is nod while he's greeted and wished a happy birthday by everyone in the room. "Happy birthday old man," Festus says, jostling his shoulder. Coriolanus rolls his eyes because Festus will be twenty-five in less than a month yet he loves to act as if Coriolanus already has one foot in the grave.

"Thanks, Festus, you know you really had me fooled into thinking that you wouldn't be available tonight." Festus laughs and shakes his head, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. It sure was hard to keep it a secret though, thank goodness Soarynn planned it instead of me."

Coriolanus finds his wife on the other side of the room, speaking amongst the other wives. "Soarynn planned this?" He asks, unable to believe that timid little thing planned all of this with all these people. Festus nods as if this is a normal occurrence, "Of course she did. She's your wife and you're a man worth celebrating."

He certainly is but Coriolanus can't bring himself to believe that Soarynn put all of this together. Calling the restaurant, calling his parents, and coordinating with everyone to keep it a secret from him. He didn't think his wife was capable of keeping such a thing from him. Over the past few months, he's gotten to know the tells that give away when Soarynn is lying. He called her out on it once which led to her crying which he felt awful about.

But she hasn't lied since.

Soarynn it seems, is full of surprises.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn POV

"You've truly outdone yourself Soarynn, Coriolanus is lucky to have you."

Soarynn shrugs off the compliment and sips her wine, she's so damn relieved that she pulled this off. "I'm the lucky one," she tells Persephone while keeping an eye on her husband. He hasn't had a moment alone since they arrived, being swarmed by friends he's made over the years, old and new. According to Mrs. Snow, some people on the guest list have known Coriolanus since he was a baby.

He seems so at ease here with all his good friends, openly laughing and drinking. He works so hard, he deserves to be celebrated. His eyes meet hers for a moment and he gives her a genuine smile before his attention is drawn elsewhere. She'd be lying if she said that she didn't feel butterflies.

"Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is about to be served," a waiter announces causing everyone to find their seats. Soarynn watches Coriolanus round the very long wooden table and his eyes are trained on her. For once, she stays put, and lets him come to her. The moment he reaches her she's overwhelmed by the smell of roses. He leans down until they're eye-to-eye, "I can't believe you managed to keep this a secret from me."

Soarynn breaks into a grin and nods, "I think it might have been the hardest thing I've ever done." They both laugh at her confession and his hand slips around her waist, pulling her against him and making her nerves jump. "Aren't I a lucky man to be married to you then darling?" Soarynn nearly forgets how to talk and his deep voice does nothing to help but she manages to get a single word out in response, "Yes."

Coriolanus chuckles and his eyes flit to her lips then back up to her eyes as if he's having some internal dilema. His urges seem to win that dilemma and his lips crash onto hers, kissing her with such conviction, a primal kiss that she hasn't experienced in a very long time with him.

Soarynn only pulls away when she hears a whistle at their public display of affection, most likely from Festus but Coriolanus only smirks, "Let's sit down and enjoy our dinner hmm?" Soarynn mindlessly follows him towards the table but they don't make it very far before the photographer she hired stops them, "Let's get a picture of the young couple," he suggests, holding up his camera.

Soarynn really isn't one for photos and they took about a million on their wedding day but just one couldn't hurt. Maybe they'll look back on this memory one day and think fondly of it. But she still looks up to Coriolanus to see how he wants to go about it. "All right," he agrees, sliding his arm around her frame.

"Perfect! Just stand right there, no smiles for this one, just pose."

Soarynn always feels like a hopeless little thing when it comes to taking directions but not smiling is something she can do. She rests her hand on his chest as they both gaze into the camera and she nearly goes blind when the flash goes off.

"Wonderful. Now, big smiles!"

Soarynn looks up and Coriolanus is still wearing the same stoic face and that just won't do. She can also see his mother watching them and she just knows that Mrs. Snow would be pinching his arm and scolding him if she were standing right here. Soarynn brings her other arm behind his back and slips her fingers right under his armpit, the only place where Coriolanus Snow is ticklish.

She's always been ticklish but only discovered that Coriolanus had a weak spot when Petunia placed her paw in the wrong spot at the wrong time when they were asleep. He nearly threw both of them off the bed with how quickly he reacted.

Soarynn uses that to her advantage and pokes him just right, causing him to break into a smile right when the camera goes off. "Using my weakness against me," he says playfully, and Soarynn only smiles wider, "Only when necessary," she tells him.

For a moment, it feels like it could be love. Both of them staring into each other's eyes, his arm around her, her hand on his chest. They could do it if they wanted to.

Another flash goes off but Soarynn doesn't even notice it, she doesn't notice anything but him.

But then it's over. His touch disappears and hers does too and they're sitting down at the table like nothing happened.

They've gotten very good at that, acting like nothing ever happened.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus POV

"This one is from Soarynn darling."

Coriolanus takes the large box from his mother and gives Soarynn a curious glance, she already got him the watch, well, Petunia got him the watch. Or so she claims.

Soarynn returns his curious glance with a sly look so now he's truly curious as to what she got him. The moment he opens the box, he's hit with the smell of fine leather. It's a briefcase, shiny, new, fresh out of the box.

Festus, who's been standing behind him to provide commentary on the gifts grunts in approval, "You've been wanting a new one for quite some time." Yes, he has and the fact that Soarynn got him the exact one he wanted makes him wonder how much she's been paying attention to him. She's always been attentive but this goes far beyond the duties of marriage.

"This is perfect, thank you Soarynn," he says, reaching across the table to give her hand a squeeze. Soarynn smiles and nods towards the box, "I got it engraved as well." Mother swoons over that little detail, she's always been one for semantics, "Oh, how thoughtful. Isn't that thoughtful Crassus?" Father merely grunts, distracted by his glass of whiskey and his current conversation with Glen Nightingale but Coriolanus doesn't mind, not when he thought the man would be on a business trip.

"Here comes the cake," Festus says, rubbing his hands together. Coriolanus watches two waiters bring in a massive cake, so large it could probably feed an entire District. Once it's set down in front of him, he can see that 'Happy Birthday Coriolanus' has been written out in red frosting.

Must've been Soarynn's idea, how sweet.

She stands by his side while everyone sings to him, telling him to make a wish. I wish we could be ourselves around each other, he decides, I wish I could get to truly know her without having to put up a front.

Her hand comes to rest on his shoulder while he blows out the candles and instead of the smoke, all he smells is vanilla. "What did you wish for?"

He places his hand on top of hers and looks up at her, she looks stunning.

"I guess you'll have to find out."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn POV

Soarynn moans as her back hits the mattress. Coriolanus is on top of her in seconds.

She wore the lingerie. He liked the lingerie. He ripped off the lingerie in about five seconds.

Sounds like a successful night to her.

But the night is just getting started and Coriolanus is already getting hard again. Due to her lack of sexual experience, Soarynn relied on Coriolanus to guide her through all of her firsts. Which included giving him a blowjob. It was a rather daunting task considering the size of him. He's not exactly on the small side.

And trying to look graceful yet seductive while doing it is another thing entirely. But, because it was his birthday she only felt like it was fair to get down on her knees for her husband. The dark look in his eyes was more than enough to get her excited and since she didn't bite him and he finished down her throat, she considered it a job well done.

Coriolanus latches his mouth to her neck and sucks hard while his other hand slides down to her stomach, applying pressure. Soarynn whimpers and her hands grab onto his curls, "Coriolanus," she gasps when he sucks on a particular spot. Coriolanus groans and his other hand grabs her breast, kneading it, pinching her rosy bud, "So perfect for me," he whispers, "so obedient and good."

Soarynn's hips buck agasint his and Coriolanus moans whe his cock slides between her thighs, pressing agasint her wet folds. Soarynn has always gotten embarasingly wet around him but she supposes that it's better than being the opposite. She wouldn’t want him thinking that she’s not attracted to him.

“Oh, please,” she whimpers when his hand slides down from her stomach to her cunt, his fingers ghosting over her clit.

Right after they got married, Coriolanus spent an entire night just touching her, learning from her, finding out exactly what makes her tick, makes her go crazy. It wasn’t quite fair in her opinion that he got to discover all these things at her sexual expense since that night came with a lot of teasing. He eventually fucked her because he wouldn’t want to be a negligent husband but he also said that she was more than welcome to do the same to him should she be so brave.

She wasn’t.

Soarynn wasn’t brave enough to suggest such a thing and so she settled for learning him through their nights spent together. Coriolanus isn’t a very vocal person during sex, at least, not compared to her. Which means every moan, every gasp, every grunt is a telltale sign that he likes something.

“You looked so good tonight darling,” he said to her, teasing the tip of his cock against her folds. Soarynn’s eyes nearly roll back at the feeling of him slowly sinking in, that indescribable burning stretch that she always feels is something that she’s now gotten used to. She finds herself looking forward to it.

“Fuck,” he whispers, looking down at their conjoined bodies, “you always take me so well Soarynn.” All she can do is lie there while he begins to pound into her, moaning whenever he presses against her sweet spot. “Right there,” Soarynn says, grabbing his forearm, her back bending off the bed, “right there please.”

Coriolanus increases his pace, fucking her harder than he ever has before and Soarynn nearly screams from the pleasure. “Fuck, fuck,” he grunts, his face sheen with sweat, “such a perfect cunt.”

Her eyes are rolling back, her muscles are seizing up, and that wire inside of her is about to snap. She’s babbling nonsense now that the pleasure has truly taken over, rendering her as useless as a doll.

She feels his fingers on her clit and that’s all it really takes to push Soarynn over the edge. She cums with a loud moan, her walks fluttering around his cock which causes Coriolanus to moan as well. She sees stars while he continues fucking her through her orgasm, sounds become more distant as she sits in her blissful afterglow.

Coriolanus, like most nights, tumbles off right after her and finishes buried in her cunt. They both moan at the sensation of her cunt milking his cock and Coriolanus finally stills inside of her. Soarynn is out of breath and she didn’t even do anything.

“That was…that was good,” Coriolanus finally says. Soarynn can’t help but laugh as she looks around their once perfectly made bed now completely in disarray. She had sprinkled some rose petals over the bed right before he came in for a romantic effect and it did nothing but turn him on even further.

Coriolanus grins down at her and for a moment, it feels like this could be love again.

But it’s not.

Coriolanus carefully maneuvers them so that he’s lying on his back while she lays on top of him, his cock still inside of her. Soarynn has found that he likes to stay inside of her as long as possible. Probably to increase the chances of getting her pregnant. She can’t imagine what either of them will be like as parents. She’s always wanted to have children but she sometimes worries that she’s too young.

None of her friends seem to share this issue though. Persephone had waved her off just the other day when Soarynn had mentioned it while having tea. “We have all the resources in the world to care for a child Soarynn. If you don’t want to raise your baby then a nanny can do it.”

Soarynn could never just give her child over to someone else, to a stranger. No, she’d want to raise her child and be as involved as possible.

She wonders if tonight will be the night that she finally gets pregnant. She most definitely didn’t get pregnant last month because Coriolanus found her with blood dripping down her leg onto the bathroom floor. It had been horribly embarrassing for him to see her like that and it didn’t help that it was her first time ever experiencing her period.

But it came and Coriolanus went out to get her all the supplies she needed and then some.

He always took care of her.

“What’s on your mind?”

Soarynn lifts her head to look into her husband’s eyes and sees nothing but curiosity mixed with adoration. “Nothing,” she says to which he quirks an eyebrow to, “truly nothing. I’ve been so consumed with making sure that your party turned out perfectly that I truly have nothing on my mind for once.”

His hand drags up and down her back, not in a sexual way but a sensual way. “Well I was very surprised,” he tells her, “and thank you for planning all of that. You really didn’t have to do anything.”

Soarynn shakes her head, “Of course I did. You’re my husband.” Doing things out of duty is something that Soarynn is more than familiar with. She always tries to look on the bright side of things but she still knows her place. The entire reason she’s lying in this bed right now with Coriolanus Snow is because she’s the last of her bloodline and Coriolanus is the last of his.

It’s because her father wanted to ensure that she’d be taken care of once he passed away and Crassus Snow wanted to ensure that his son was married to a proper match. It’s because they’ve now joined two great houses and are eventually going to have children.

Not because they fell in love.

Soarynn rests her head against his chest again. They might go another round, they might not. She’s done talking either way. Moments like these are the best moments in their relationship, when they’re almost honest with each other. But they both revert back to their old selves as soon as the deed is done.

She knows how Coriolanus is, how he’ll always be.

Cold and calculated.

| tumblr drabble/oneshot |

[suddencolds]

The Worst Timing | [1/?]

hello!! I've been wanting to write a longer h/c fic for awhile. This is the exposition/first installment to that (4.8k words).

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I've written for these two!

Summary: Yves invites Vincent to a wedding, in France, where the rest of his family will be in attendance. It's a very important wedding, so he's definitely not going to let anything—much less the flu—ruin it. (ft. fake dating, an international trip, downplaying illness, sharing a hotel room)

—

“A wedding,” Vincent repeats.

“Yes,” Yves says. “A wedding.”

It’s his cousin Aimee’s wedding—she’s four years older than he is. Back when he’d gone with his family back to France over the summers, she’d been one of the people he’d grown quickly to look up to—someone who knew the ins and outs, it seemed, to every stage of life he was in the process of stumbling through.

Yves has always been used to being looked up to—one of the natural consequences, perhaps, of being the eldest in his immediate family—and he likes to think that he’s good at giving off the impression that he has things figured out. But he’d grown close to Aimee at their family reunions precisely because she was everything he tried to be: strong-willed and resilient, self-sufficient even in the face of hardship.

Aimee’s getting married to Genevieve—someone who Yves has only met a couple times, but who manages to be one of the sweetest people he’s ever met. All in all, it’s a wedding he wouldn’t miss under any circumstances.

Leon, his brother, and Victoire, his sister, will be there, along with Aimee’s friends and the rest of his extended family. The problem is that Leon keeps in touch with Mikhail. Mikhail let slip that Yves has been seeing Vincent. Leon told Victoire, who told Aimee. And now Aimee is offering to pay for Vincent’s plane ticket to their wedding in France in the spring—a bit of a last minute arrangement, but she’d sounded so excited at the prospect that Yves was finally seeing someone new (“I’d love to meet him,” she’d said over the phone, “would it be too much to ask him to take a couple days off work? Oh my gosh, please give me his contact details, I’ll send him an invitation,” and she’d sounded so excited about it that he hadn’t had it in him to turn her down).

“It’s very last minute,” he says, “but my cousin’s getting married, and she really wants to meet you. It’ll be some time in early March, in Provence. She says she’ll pay for your flight, if you want to go, but you’d probably have to take a couple days off.”

“Oh,” Vincent says, blinking at him. “And you want me to be there?”

“Of course I do,” Yves says. “I think it’s more a question of whether you want to be there.”

Vincent looks back at him, his expression carefully blank. “Are you sure you want to introduce me to your family? That doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that you’d take lightly.”

“They want to meet you,” Yves says. “And I wouldn’t mind introducing you. I think they would really like you.”

“It would be a waste of your time,” Vincent says, quietly, “to introduce me as someone you’re serious about if we’re just planning to break things off.”

Yves is well aware of the fact. This arrangement with Vincent—the trust he places in Vincent; the practiced familiarity, the feigned intimacy—has an expiration date. The fact that he doesn’t know when the expiration date is doesn’t change the fact that it will, inevitably, end—when Erika gets the point, or fades from Yves’s life entirely; when Vincent finds someone he considers worthy of pursuing in actuality; when either of them become interested in dating again. Whatever it is that ends up ending things, Yves knows: what he has with Vincent right now is strictly temporary. 

Perhaps it would be disingenuous to lie to his family about who exactly Vincent is to him. But then again, Yves thinks it isn’t much worse than any other relationship, with all of its ups and downs, all its hopes and uncertainties. It’s not like he can ever guarantee that a relationship is certain to work out, no matter how serious he feels about it in the moment. So is there really any harm to introducing Vincent as his current partner—as someone he feels certain about now, but maybe not always—and to leave it at that?

“It’s not really going to be my day, in the first place,” Yves says. “My relationship status is more of a conversation starter than anything. And even if you go by the timeline we told Erika, we haven’t even been together for a year. I don’t think my family will think much of it other than, like, a small and noncommittal window into what I’ve been up to. So it’s really up to you.”

“I think it would be fun,” Vincent says, “though only if you’re sure about having me there.”

“Great. I’m sure,” Yves says. “Everyone will love you.” He does think it’s true. Something about Vincent tends to have that effect, he thinks.

—

The fact that he and Vincent are traveling together is not exactly a secret.

Vincent agrees it’s best shared on a need-to-know basis—they won’t be the ones to bring it up, but if someone asks about it, they’ll answer honestly. It would be more work, Yves thinks, to have to coordinate lies about this.

But he runs into trouble not even two weeks later.

“So you and Vincent are taking the week off,” Cara says to him carefully, over lunch.

“Yes,” Yves says.

“Any plans?”

“I’m actually flying to France,” Yves tells her, uncertain about whether or not he should mention Vincent’s involvement—if Vincent has talked to Cara about this already, there’s no point in hiding anything, but he should be careful with the information he discloses otherwise. “One of my cousins is getting married there.”

“Oh,” Cara says, all too knowingly. “What a coincidence. Vincent told me he’s also planning on going to France.”

“I… heard,” Yves says, slowly. “He’s told me as much.”

“I didn’t realize France was such a popular tourist destination for march,” Cara says, smiling at him. “I thought most people went over the summer.”

“You know what they say,” Yves says. “France’s beauty knows no seasons.” 

“You should ask Vincent which part of France he’s visiting,” Cara says, with a smirk. “Maybe you guys can book a hotel together.”

Yves is positive he’s being laughed at. “It’s the third largest country in Europe,” he says. “I’m sure the chance of us ending up in the same region is statistically very low.”

“I think Cara knows we’re fake dating,” he laments to Vincent later, in the break room. “I mean, the dating part, not the fake part.”

Vincent blinks at him. “Did you tell her?”

“No,” Yves says. He doesn’t think they’ve been that obvious about it. “I just told her I was going to France. She made some undue assumptions.”

“Oh,” Vincent says. “I told her I was attending a wedding there.”

An impromptu trip to France, over the same week at the tail end of busy season, to attend a wedding. Separately. Yves is starting to understand where Cara's suspicions might’ve come from.

“That would do it,” he says.

Perhaps they really need to coordinate what a need-to-know basis means. Cara is, thankfully, not the type of person to gossip, from what Yves has gathered, but if their coworkers know, that could complicate things. “I don’t think she’ll say anything,” he says. “But I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d assume.”

Vincent seems to consider this. “It’s fine,” he says. “Though it might prove troublesome when we decide to end things.”

“We can figure that out when it happens,” Yves says.  

At some point in the foreseeable future, everything will go back to how it’s always been. Yves had been fine on his own for a long time before he’d met Erika. He’s sure he’ll be prepared for it when it happens.

—

The entire drive to the airport feels surreal.

Mikhail drives them. They leave at the crack of dawn—4am, on the dot. Victoire’s in the passenger seat, dozing off, and Leon, Vincent, and Yves are crammed into the backseat. 

Yves sits in the middle—there’s not much leg room to go around in the first place, but he tries to take up as little space as possible, mostly for Vincent’s sake. He and Leon have been crammed into far smaller cars on far longer road trips.

Leon says, “This is the earliest in the morning I’ve ever third wheeled.”

Victoire, who has her eyes shut, says, “It’s very nice to meet you, Vincent.”

“Likewise,” Vincent says. 

“Yves has told us all about you,” Leon says.

“Oh,” Vincent says, blinking. “What has he said about me?”

“Mostly that you’re super hot,” Leon says. Yves, who is in a perfect position to elbow him, elbows him for that.

“You make me sound so shallow,” Yves says.

“But also that you’re really good at your job,” Leon continues, patting Yves on the leg. “Did you know Yves likes people who he’s slightly intimidated by?”

“I never said that,” Yves says.

“It’s pretty obvious,” Mikhail says. 

“You guys are conspiring against me,” Yves says, and Vincent laughs. 

Leon launches into a series of questions—about how they met, about who asked who out first, about what it’s like at work, about what kinds of things Vincent does for fun.

“No wonder Yves is totally whipped,” Leon says, after Vincent finishes telling a story about how he’d given a presentation at a conference in place of his then-boss, who had—due to unforeseen flight delays—found out last minute that she wouldn’t have been able to make it on time. Yves hasn’t heard this story before, but it doesn’t surprise him that Vincent would be able to pull that sort of thing off, even with such paralyzingly short notice. “You’re exactly his type.”

Just great. If anyone could dig a nice, fitting grave for him over the span of one conversation, Yves thinks, it would be younger brother. 

“I can’t believe he hasn’t invited you over for dinner yet,” Victoire says, her eyes still closed. How much of this conversation she’s actually been awake for, Yves can’t say.

She makes Yves promise that, after their trip to France, Vincent will be over for dinner. (“Sure,” Vincent says. “Just tell me the date in advance. I’ll clear my schedule.” Yves will have to apologize to him after this—for some reason, Vincent has an uncanny talent for ending up invited to half the things Yves is personally involved in.)

Yves is awake enough to hold a conversation, but he finds himself yawning mid-sentence on more than a few occasions. Vincent doesn’t so much as yawn at all over the entirety of the car ride. Yves has no idea if he’s always up this early, or if he’s just naturally immune to tiredness—another signature of his good genetics, next to the fact that he looks like he’s just stepped out of a photoshoot, or the fact that he manages to look good in everything he wears. Some people just win the genetic lottery, Yves supposes.

For some reason, he finds he feels a little more tired than usual. Waking up early is never easy, but usually he’d be distinctly more alert by now. There’s a strange, uncharacteristic heaviness to his limbs—it’s the kind of grogginess he only experiences when he hasn’t been getting enough sleep for awhile.

It’s fine. They have an eight hour flight ahead of them—they’ll be flying into Marseille, and then being driven up to Provence, where the wedding will be taking place. He can catch up on sleep over the flight.

As they’re unloading the suitcases from the back trunk, Vincent says, “Your family’s nice.”

Yves laughs. “I’m relieved they haven’t scared you off yet. Sorry for the… well, interrogation, by the way.”

“I can tell you’re close to them,” Vincent says, a little more quietly.

When Yves looks over, something about Vincent’s smile looks almost wistful. Yves wonders, briefly, how well Vincent has kept up with his own family. If he’d ever been packed into the backseat of a small car, back when he’d lived in Korea; if over some long road trip, he’d ever had to come up with increasingly inventive ways to pass the time. If his relatives ever teased him, then, about the crushes he’d had when he was younger, or anything else. If the ocean that was suddenly between them came with another, less tangible kind of distance, the kind that even phone calls and international flights can never quite bridge.

Yves doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know how he’d go about asking if he wanted to know. How is it that sometimes, he feels like he knows so much about Vincent, but other times, he feels like he knows almost nothing at all?

—

Aimee has booked him a seat next to Vincent. 

They’re a few rows away from the others—I wanted to seat everyone together, Aimee had texted him a few weeks back, but when I was booking Vincent’s ticket, the seats up front were all sold out, so I just moved you so you’d be sitting next to him. 

Now, he watches as Vincent pushes his briefcase gingerly into the overhead compartment.

“You must not be new to flying,” he says.

Vincent nods. “I’m not.”

“Eight more hours,” Yves says, taking the middle seat so that Vincent doesn’t have to. “It’ll be over in no time, especially if you take a nap.”

“I have some work to get done,” Vincent says. “Only after the plane takes off, though.”

Right—no electronics larger than a cell phone until they’re 30,000 feet in the air. “I thought this was supposed to be your week off.”

“It is,” Vincent says. “I just want to make sure everything’s still in one piece by the time I get back.”

Yves has never quite been comfortable on planes. It’s not that he’s afraid of flying, or that the turbulence bothers him—it’s more just the cramped space, the noise, the anticipation, the discomfort—all of it compounds. It’s usually difficult to get to sleep, but he’s so tired right now that maybe this flight will be an exception.

There’s just one problem: whoever is in charge of the air conditioning in the airplane cabin really hates him. Compared to Provence, New York’s climate is generally more extreme—colder in the winters, hotter in the summers—so all he has on him right now is a thin jacket. It’d be perfectly reasonable attire in most situations, except for the fact that this airplane in particular is unusually frigid. It’s definitely cold enough to be distinctly uncomfortable, especially considering that he’s just sitting in place. Yves crosses his arms, suppressing a shiver.

“Do you think Aimee will be convinced?” Vincent asks.

“Convinced?”

“That we’re together.”

“I’m sure she has better things to do than play detective over the state of my relationships,” Yves says, with a laugh. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“It’s why you invited me,” Vincent says, “is it not?”

“Pardon?”

“To show the rest of your family that you’re not still hung up over Erika.”

“I invited you for a lot of reasons,” Yves says. “For one, you’re good company.”

“So are all your friends.”

“I thought we could both use a week off,” Yves adds. “It’s France, in the springtime. What could be better?”

Vincent says, “I need you to tell me what to do.”

“What?”

“Your cousin paid for my flight,” he lists, counting off his fingers. “Your family is paying for the hotel. Your best friend drove me to the airport.” He says these things as if he’s listing off all the ways in which he’s indebted to them. “It’d be easiest for both of us if you told me how to make a good impression. That’s what I’m here for, right?”

Yves blinks. “I don’t think you’d need my help to make a good impression.”

“You could’ve taken anyone with you, but you’re taking me,” Vincent presses. “There has to be something you need me for.”

If there was nothing, you wouldn’t have invited me. The sentiment hangs between them, unspoken. But Yves can see it in Vincent’s expression. 

“My favorite cousin is getting married,” Yves says, fervently. “To her fiancee—who is also super cool, by the way. My whole family is going to be there. Do you think I’d choose to endure an eight hour plane ride sitting next to someone I didn’t like?”

“Maybe,” Vincent says.

Yves shakes his head. “It’s true that my family wants to meet you. But if I didn’t want you to come to France with me, I could’ve come up with an excuse.”

He twists around in his seat so that he’s facing Vincent directly. Narrowly resists the urge to reach out and grab Vincent’s hand. “I like spending time with you. I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t. You don’t have to do anything out of the ordinary—if you have fun on this trip, that’s more than enough.”

Vincent stares back at him, his eyes wide. 

Yves has a feeling he’s said too much. It isn’t Vincent’s fault for assuming this is all just for show, considering everything that’s come before. Part of it is, but another part of him just really wants Vincent to have fun—to take in the sights at the gorgeous venue Aimee’s sent him pictures of, to have a week off in one of the most picturesque countrysides in the world (Yves may be slightly biased, but still) and not have to think too hard about impressing everyone. 

“Is that… okay with you?” Yves asks.

“Yes,” Vincent says. “It’s just unexpected.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Oh. Well. I’m sorry if I misled you, or anything.”

“You didn’t.” This time, Vincent really does smile—a sly, quicksilver thing. “For the record, I am very excited to go to your cousin’s wedding.”

“Thank god,” Yves says. “That’s good. I was beginning to think I was holding you hostage.”

He leans back into his seat, suppressing another shiver. Something about the changing pressure in the airplane cabin is making his head start to ache. It’s probably the elevation. Perhaps he should try to sleep just so that he doesn’t have to sit for eight hours with a headache brewing.

He shuts his eyes and tries. It’s no use. He’s tired, and the cabin is quiet enough, but it’s too cold to get to sleep—it feels impossible to get comfortable like this.

So he picks up a novel he’d been meaning to get to—something suspenseful, to offset the monotony of the flight.

When the seatbelt sign flickers off, Vincent unclips his seatbelt so that he can retrieve his briefcase from one of the overhead compartments, and spends the next half hour paging through multiple documents and leaving notes in the margins at a dizzying pace. Yves slinks down lower into his seat, trying hard not to shiver. 

“Is it just me, or is it kind of cold in here?” 

Vincent frowns at him in a concerned way that seems to suggest that it really is just him. Then again, Vincent is unfazed by New York’s cold winters, so Yves isn’t sure he’s the best point of reference.

“Do you need my jacket?” he asks.

“No,” Yves says quickly. “It’s not that bad.”

“Okay,” Vincent says. “If you’re certain.”

He turns his attention back to the screen, and Yves resigns himself to reading—or, more accurately, trying and failing to read. It’s mercilessly cold, and his head hurts enough to make focusing on any one thing an uncomfortable task. He gets through another couple chapters, finds himself rereading the same passage over and over again, and—finally, defeated—dog-ears the page and slides the book into the pocket attached to the seat in front of him.

The next time the flight attendants come around, Vincent says something to one of them Yves can’t quite make out. Yves asks for orange juice—it’s not supposed to be symbolic, or anything, but on the off-chance that this headache ends up being a precursor to something more unpleasant, he thinks it might be wise.

The flight attendant pours him the orange juice he’s asked for—no ice (right now, something ice cold is the last thing he needs)—and sets it down on the tray table in front of him. Yves stares down at it, blinking. He hasn’t eaten all day, but strangely, he doesn’t have much of an appetite.

He doesn’t register the flight attendant from before—the one Vincent talked to—is back until he hears Vincent’s quiet “thanks” to his left.

Something brushes against his arm.

He looks up. It’s one of those travel blankets they sometimes carry, neatly folded, though this flight hadn’t given them out to everyone at the start. They must be reserved—given only upon request, maybe. 

“You said you were cold,” Vincent—who’s holding out the blanket for him—says, by way of explanation.

Yves blinks at him. He’s about to reassure Vincent, instinctively, that it’s not that cold—that he would’ve been fine without the blanket, that Vincent didn’t have to go out of his way to ask for one.

But his head hurts. He hasn’t been warm all flight. To say that the blanket is a relief would be a massive understatement.

“Thanks,” he says, taking it. “This is perfect. I won’t be cold with this.”

He ends up wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, pulling it tightly around him—like a cloak, or like the jacket that he might have brought with him if he’d had the foresight to anticipate feeling this cold on a commercial flight.

It’s nice. He’s still a little cold, with the blanket, but it’s enough to keep him from openly shivering.

He should really try to get some sleep, he thinks. It’s going to be evening in France when they land. A seat away from him, the window shutters are pulled up, but he can see, from the crevices around the window, that it’s light out.

“I’m going to try to nap,” he tells Vincent. “But wake me up if I need anything—elbow me if you have to. I’m not usually a heavy sleeper.”

“Okay,” Vincent says. “I’ll try not to wake you.”

“You can wake me whenever,” Yves says, muffling a yawn into his hand. “Don’t work too hard.”

Vincent smiles at him, the kind of smile that implies he thinks he’s working exactly as hard as he should be. “No promises.”

It’s not easy to get to sleep, despite his exhaustion. He lays there for a while, his eyes shut—it’s certainly warmer with the blanket, but for some reason, he feels strangely restless. Maybe it’s the adrenaline of being here, with his family, with Vincent—on the way to see one of the most important people in his life get married. Maybe it’s the cup of black coffee he’d downed this morning to be awake enough to help Mikhail navigate and, subsequently, awake enough to actually be useful at the airport.

In the end, he falls asleep to the static hum of the aircraft, to the sound of Vincent hammering away at his keyboard next to him, incessant and comforting.

—

Yves wakes to someone tapping him on the shoulder. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m up.”

“A ‘light sleeper,’ you said,” Vincent says. “We just landed.”

Yves says, “I’m wide awake.” The yawn that he hides behind one hand is apparently not subtle enough, because when Vincent looks away from him in favor of staring straight ahead, it looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

Vincent’s stowed away his laptop already—Yves hopes that’s a sign that he’s done with work for the duration of this trip, but more likely he just had to put it away for landing.

“How was the flight for you?” Yves says.

Vincent looks at him. “Uneventful,” he says, at last.

“Not enthralled by all the financial records you had to go through?”

“They were very enthralling. How was your nap?”

“Good,” Yves says, even though he doesn’t feel particularly rested. He’s just groggy, probably, and the headache is just as bad as it was, if not worse. He’s sure once he gets off the plane and gets some fresh air, he’ll feel much better. “I probably needed it.” His breath hitches, unexpectedly, he turns to the side, raising his arm to his face to shield the oncoming—

“hH-’IZscHH’iew!” 

The sneeze is loud, embarrassingly, and it scrapes unpleasantly against his throat, which feels… off.

“Bless you,” Vincent says, frowning. He looks more concerned than he has any right to be.

Yves flashes Vincent a distracted smile. “Thanks.”

Everything—from the moment they step off the plane—is exhaustingly hectic. 

The hotel in Provence is more than an hour away from the airport they’ve landed at. They have a bus to catch, which means that after they regroup with the others, it’s international customs, baggage claim, and then they’re headed, maneuvering multiple suitcases each, onto the bus. He sits next to Vincent, though on the aisle side, so that he can lean over and interject whenever Leon and Victoire say something that’s worth commenting on.

Other than that, he talks with Vincent, mostly—about Aimee, about how she’s been in his life for longer than he’s known how to write his name, back when his parents would take him back to France once or twice a year. (“She was practically an older sister to me,” he says, “except we never fought,” to which Vincent says, “You make it sound like not getting along is a requirement to be siblings,” to which Yves says, “It definitely is.”)

His parents flew into France yesterday, so they should be settled in already—they’ll catch up with them at the hotel tonight, if it’s not too late. He probably won’t see Aimee and Genevieve until tomorrow morning, at breakfast—and even then, that depends on how busy they are with the various wedding preparations Aimee’s been telling him about.

The roads nearing the hotel are uneven and winding. Halfway through the drive, Yves registers, faintly, that he isn’t really feeling any better from before. His head is still hurting from the flight, and when he swallows, he finds his throat feels perhaps the slightest bit sore.

He’s cold, too, in the sort of uncomfortable, persistent way that’s difficult to alleviate, even with extra layers or with a warm drink. He’s starting to suspect that maybe the airplane cabin hadn’t been the problem after all.

None of that is particularly visible to any of the others—that is, until he finds himself tensing up halfway through a sentence, burying his head into the crook of his elbow as his eyes squeeze shut—

“God, sorry, I— hh-! hHehh’iiZZSCHh’iiEW!”

“Bless you,” Vincent, Victoire, and Leon say to him, all at once.

“You’d better not be getting sick,” Leon says, turning to him, with the sort of tone that implies that he’s joking. “That would really be the worst timing.”

“I’m not,” Yves says, swallowing against the soreness in his throat. “I promise.” Or, perhaps more accurately—he can’t be.

It will be the perfect wedding, he thinks. Aimee has planned it out meticulously, and she’s one of the most thorough people he knows. The weather forecast says this week will be sunny and temperate. He’s here, in France. Tomorrow, he’ll be surrounded by his extended family, and in the afternoon he and Vincent will head off to the welcome party, and he’ll get to give Aimee the gifts he’s gotten for her and introduce Vincent to everyone formally. Everything will go as planned—the welcome party, the wedding rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, and on Saturday, the wedding and the vows.

It will be perfect, because it has to be. Yves will be present, and attentive, and he’ll give the speech he has prepared at Aimee’s wedding, and they’ll all remember this week fondly. Even considering the small, almost negligible chance that he’s coming down with something, there are more important things he has to worry about right now, which is to say: Yves is going to do this right.

He’s going to make sure of it. 

[ Part 2 ]

[lost-between-letters]

Black Lipstick

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (she/her)

Requested by: @animealways

Warnings: outsider pov (Enid's), my attempt at humour, excessive use of italics

Word Count: 618

Summary: Wednesday blushing ? Surely the world was ending

A/N: requests for the Wednesday characters are still open :)

Enid had just walked past the single most fascinating conversation of her life and Wednesday had to hear about it. Now.

With a spring to her step - excited to describe the whatever-that-had-been between Xavier and Ajax in excruciating detail to her roommate (and best friend - they totally were besties even if Wednesday refused to use that word) - Enid barged into their room. "Wednes, you won't believe-"

And cut short in her tracks.

There on her black bedsheets sat Wednesday, hands folded in her lap. Perfectly prim, expression schooled into an annoyed scowl. Face redder than the red thread she had used on her Ted Bundy Boards.

Oh, this was going to be so interesting.

"Are you blushing ?" Okay, that wasn't the best approach, Enid had to admit. She could have at least stopped gawking.

Well, what was done was done, she guessed.

Wednesday raised her chin higher and stared her down. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh, you so are hiding something," Enid said and pointed a fake accusatory finger at her, "is it because you ran up here and refuse to admit that you forgot something?"

"Obviously not." Wednesday shook her head, feigning nonchalance.

Key word: feigning.

If there was one trait Enid shared with her wolf, it was that if she got her nose buried in something, she wasn't letting go. "Maybe you got some alone time that I interrupted?"

"Enid." There was that stern voice again.

She was definitely getting closer.

Enid laughed gleefully.

"Please tell me that you finally realised your massive crush on Y/N," Enid was shooting in the dark, she knew it but someone had to get these two together. And who else than her? "Wait wait wait. Is this where you're waiting nervously to actually tell me how right I am?"

A snort was her answer.

Not from Wednesday.

No, her roommate was still scowling at her.

Though that turned into a brief flash of panic when Enid crouched down on the floor. The noise had definitely come from there.

"Please tell me that this is who I'm thinking it is."

Y/N rolled out from under the bed, laughs shaking her body.

"Yes!! Finally!!" Enid was not doing a victory dance. No, she was only ... showing her happiness for her friends.

For some reason, that made Y/N laugh even harder.

Even Wednesday was smiling. Down at Y/N (her girlfriend, Enid realised at the sweet intimacy she could see floating around the two of them), who she helped getting up from the ground and down on the bed next to her.

Only then, Enid saw the black lipstick stains down her neck. So that was what she had walke-

"Finally?" Y/N was still chuckling as she leaned into Wednesday.

If there weren't more pressing matters at hand, Enid would so be teasing Wednesday right about now. But- "What do you mean?"

"Love, you still haven't told her?" That was adressed to the girl by her side.

"And have her all up in our business?"

"You love it when she's all up in your business, mi amor," Y/N countered and threaded her fingers between Wednesday's.

Who shot another round of daggers with her eyes. Though their handles were probably in heart shapes. Enid could feel the affection overflowing from her best friend. It was a little unsettling to watch.

"So this is already an established thing?" She butted in before anything got out of hand.

Y/N grinned, turned and planted a kiss on Wednesday's lips before either of the girls could react. Tugged on one braid for good measure. "Two and a half months since I confessed to that lovely monster."

Oh, Wednesday would never hear the end of this.

Wednesday Taglist: @the-night-owl-blr @kenobette @lovelyy-moonlight

Join a Taglist

[adelaidedrubman]

wip. well. it’s close enough.

i was tagged today by @socially-awkward-skeleton and @inafieldofdaisies to share a wip of the week!

same as it ever was more hl&s dumb bickering picking up from last week’s almost moment of intimacy to get back to childish dick size insults

“I could ask you the same about why you would take a breakup with fellow fishers so hard,” John replied, shuffling to catch up with her. “All that disdain for mankind, rejecting polite society in favor of fish — only to find that the few human beings that had done the same would end up rejecting you.” He brought a hand up to cover his mouth as he chuckled, as if politely trying to hide it. “Thrown back like an undersized catch. Perhaps the problem wasn’t society after all, hm? But the woman living in it?”  “You’re so fucking insightful,” she snapped, her arms swinging violently at her sides. “Still can’t believe you managed to wreck a relationship, when you can read people so fucking well. Tell me — what exactly was it that didn’t work with the Ryes? Your incisive armchair psychology somehow failed to impress for longer than one date? Or you just weren’t as good in the cockpit as you thought you were? Oh, was —”

She smacked her tongue against her cheek, shaking her head. “Was your cockpit just not big enough to satisfy two people?” 

“Ah, I see. Clearly you were broken up with because you were simply too mature, and Skylar and Sherri couldn’t handle it. Don’t worry — I’m sure they’ll grow up and realize their mistake. Unless they already did…” “Not before Rick and Jim —”  “Nick and Kim — you know that —”  “— beg you from the bottom of their hearts to get back together!” she bit out. “Look!” she cried, feigning a gasp as she pointed up towards the stars. “I think I see ’em putting the sky writing up now — ‘John, please come home and subject us to more of your vapid philosophizing!’” “Not the snappiest sky writing slogan, from someone criticizing verbosity.” “Could be because the message is designed to appeal to its fuckin’ recipient,” she grumbled in reply, hands firm on her hips. “If it were the sake of expressing my own feelings, it would just say ‘Fuck you, John!’” “God, you’re a poet,” he announced with head thrown back, as if shouting the revelation to the heavens. “Why do you even bother using a rod and reel? You could simply charm fish onto your hook with a few words.” “You actually catch more fish by being quiet,” she hissed, teeth clicking between the sharp whistle of her breath. “You should try it,” she offered, turning back with a scowl. “Start practicing right now by shutting up.”

sending no pressure wip whenever tags out to beloveds @direwombat @corvosattano @roofgeese @shallow-gravy @strangefable @8bitpizzacoupons @stacispratt @orionlancasterr @v0idbuggy @jackiesarch @quickhacked @strafethesesinners @firstaidspray @clicheantagonist @henbased @simplegenius042 @miyabilicious @nightbloodbix @thedeadthree @shellibisshe @blissfulalchemist @deputyash @confidentandgood @captastra @voidika @poetikat @afarcryfrommymain @josephslittledeputy @florbelles @unholymilf @g0dspeeed @belorage @cassietrn + opt in for wip day tags here!

[peachymilkandcream]

Written In Blood|Part 2|Modern Yandere Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: I really wanted to explore these two more and I can honestly say an AU of them is pretty fun. Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon/dubcon, graphic descriptions of violence, domestic violence, manipulation, mind breaking, yandere behaviour/themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, misogyny, etc.

===============================================

Levi knew the ins and outs of the legal system by now, with his knowledge he had easily been able to get dangerous criminals returned back in the streets to blame for his own crimes later. With many parties to blame the suspicion never fell on him. All criminals from the poor to the wealthy wanted him to represent them, knowing how he could baffle the prosecution and somehow get acquittals left and right even when the defendant was clearly guilty.

Everyone wanted his secrets, but he would keep those to himself. Finding out what poor souls were put on jury duty and charming them was his specialty. Offering a joke with some of the men, a understanding smile and feign interest as he heard another mind-numbing golf story. With the women, flirtations and promises of future intimacy to make them forget their worthless husbands or partners. Unanimously they always found his defendants not guilty.

"Ah, Mr. Schmidt was it?" He sits down, grimacing at the probably filthy chair set out for him.

"The hell do you want, some fancy rich asshole in a suit, what do you want with me? What, do I owe you money or something?"

"I'm a lawyer Mr. Schmidt, Levi Ackerman, have you heard of me?"

"Yeah I know you, you're the guy who gets everyone off with a slap on the wrist huh?"

"The same."

"I can't pay your big bucks, sorry."

"No don't worry about that, I only want to take this case because I'm curious as to the crime and why? Why go after someone so famous who could throw you in jail like this?"

"Because she's hot and rich, and who doesn't like that. But I'm telling you, she's got that rich bitch attitude that goes with it. Now I don't like that in a woman, y'know what I mean?"

"Absolutely, I feel the exact same way."

"So I figured I'd knock her down a peg or two."

"And how would you do that?"

"Break in, scare her a little, get her to drive herself crazy and then break in and fuck her 'til she's a fuckin' cum dumpster. See if she's still high and mighty then."

Deep down Levi could rip out the man's teeth, talking about his target that way disgusted him. If anyone he'd be the one doing that.

"I completely understand. Now how did you go about finding the address?"

"Apparently in one of her friend's personal posts they show the apartment number. It wasn't hard to find street and city. After that it was history."

"Now I'm obligated to ask if you regret what you did."

"Are you kidding? Fuck no. I regret that I got caught is all. "

"Good to know. And if you got back on the streets what would you do with your freedom?"

"Probably try again, now I know what her security looks like."

"Understandable."

"You're really gonna represent me even though I can't pay your fees?"

"Of course I am, not so much for you, but because I'm interested to see this woman you've taken so much interest in."

"Oh trust me, she's sexy as hell let me tell you that."

"I don't doubt it." Levi stands.

"What you don't need some more information or stuff-?"

"I'll be back for that, don't worry. See you in court."

"Yeah I guess so. Hey what are you going to do with that stuff I told you?"

Levi chuckles. "Who knows? Maybe I'll just finish what you started."

[diskaywrites]

KINKTOBER 2024

𝟏𝟖+ 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕 #𝟐: 𝑫𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒂 𝒙 𝑫𝒊𝒂 𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 (𝒐𝒄) 𝒙 𝑪𝑴 𝑷𝒖𝒏𝒌 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝑶𝒇: 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆: 𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑪𝑾: 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈), 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈), 𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒍, 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆

.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽

"Aw, c'mon Di, this isn't fair," Colt pouted as he heard the little click of the handcuffs through the headboard. His hands were above his head, chest bare. His wife who now stood at the foot of the bed had at least decided that she'd remove his shirt during their moment of foreplay. "We really gotta play with the cuffs tonight?"

Dia gave a chuckle, hands on her hips as she looked over her handiwork, "You remember tonight when you didn't tag me in for the match? The match we lost?"

Colt rolled his eyes as Dia pressed kisses all the way up his chest as she straddled his hips, "Di I-"

"Do you?" Dia cupped her loves cheek, nails scratching into his bearded cheek lightly.

"Yes Di," Colt huffed with another roll of his eyes. He drew in a sharp breath as Dia dragged herself up his body. For the first time since they had started their intimacy tonight, Colt was aware that Dia wasn't wearing panties under her leather skirt. Silently he wondered if she had even bothered with them after her shower at the arena or if she had simply discarded them in the bathroom once they had returned back hom.

Thank God for having a show in Chicago.

Dia eased forward, pressing her womanhood against the mouth of the man who used it to make her laugh so often. His tongue delved between her folds, licking slowly and lazily. She let out a soft moan as her hips rolled against him. He seemed to press deeper, before his mouth suctioned around the tiny bundle of nerves that hovered above him. Dia's hands grasped at the headboard, breath shuddering as Colt's tongue began to lap against its prize. Neither heard the click of the bedroom door before another male voice spoke up, breaking the moment for both.

"Well, if I had known this was how we celebrate losses..."

Dia let out a frustrated sight as she rolled off the top of Colt to look at her significant annoyance, Phil Brooks. "You happy? I was getting there."

"Without me?" Phil pressed a hand to his chest, feigning hurt.

Colt's lips shone with Dia's juices as he stuck his tongue out at Phil, "You're just jealous she chose me tonight."

Phil laughed, moving closer to the foot of the bed, "Oh, yeah, cause I'm so willing to be tied up and punished because I lost."

"Would you two stop?" Dia rolled her eyes, "I'm capable of being with both of you."

She hadn't even finished her statement before Phil had pulled his jeans down his legs. Dia's eyes focused on his manhood and she moved forward on all fours, crawling down the bed from where she had laid with Colt. Phil's hands guided black painted lips to where he wanted, letting out a low moan as she began taking him down her throat in earnest, "Fuck Di..."

Colt shifted uncomfortably as he craned his neck up to try to watch the actions happening at the end of the bed. Even with his best friend, Dia was beautiful like this. If he hadn't been hard before, the look of bliss in Phil's eyes would have been enough. They were no stranger to moments like this, even before Dia had come into the picture. How many times had he been on his knees for Phil in a hotel or locker room? How many times had his studio apartment seen the scene of Colt on his knees? "She's so good," Colt agreed as he licked his own lips, savoring the taste of his wife.

Phil's hand tightened in Dia's hair for a moment, hips moving just a little harder as he chased his release, "That's it babe..."

Dia sputtered as she pulled away from Phil's manhood, a string of saliva an cum between the two before Phil reached a hand to swipe it away with his thumb, "Asshole."

"You love me, babe," Phil blew a kiss down to her. His eyes trailed over to where Colt laid, giving a small snicker, "Think you should help Scotty out there?"

"Please for the love of all that is good help me out," Colt let out a sharp laugh, feeling himself straining against his black boxer shorts. His breath caught as he watched Dia turn to him slowly, thumbs pressing under the waistband. He lifted his hips to help as she pulled the boxers down his thick legs. She stood on the bed, as steadily as she could, and pulled her skirt all the way off. It wasn't long before her red bustier followed, full breasts spilling out from the removed fabric. "You're so fucking pretty..."

Dia lowered herself onto his now freed erection, eyes rolling back for just a moment in pure bliss. Her hips rolled, hands coming to rest on his chest, "R...really Scotty?"

"You feel so good on me," Colt praised as he bucked up slightly, "feels real good."

Phil's hand ran down the expanse of her coffee colored back, pressing Dia forward until her breasts pressed against Colt's chest, "Always have been, babe."

Dia let out a deep groan as she felt one of Phil's fingers press against her little bud from behind, using the slick that Colt had created with every lick and now lazy thrust upward to prepare her for what was coming. His finger pressed forward and Dia's breath stalled as he spread her other opening. He added another, scissoring them against her walls. The other tattooed hand held its spot against her spine, steadying her as he climbed onto the bed behind her. The feeling of his fingers deep inside of her was soon replaced by his thick length, sliding home inside of her.

"Fuck..." Phil let out a little hiss, head titled back in pleasure as his hand moved to Dia's hip, staying still for just a moment, despite Colt's upward thrusts sending Dia back into him, "This feels right."

Dia could barely catch her breath as her partners found their rhythm, a well-tuned machine both in and out of the ring. Every forward rock from Phil was timed perfectly with Colt's upward thrusts. It built in her, more and more like a wave, until the sound of her release broke the room otherwise filled with the sound of skin on skin. It was like a domino effect of pleasure, Phil and then Colt following suit. They laid there, together, for a moment as all three tried to catch their breath before Phil pulled away, flopping onto the bed next to Colt, with Dia between the two. She laid her head on Colt's chest, giving a content sigh, "Feels like home."

[valeriesarkive]

Hard to forget, pt.2

✿ Sypnosis: What would happen if you realize that you’ve been drawing him for months without knowing him at all? What if you suddenly get flashbacks from a different life? 

It’s you, yet it’s not at the same time… But how could that be possible?

✿ Pairing: Female reader x Taehyung

✿ Genre: Romance, twin flames, karmic lifes

✿ AU: New Orleans, brothel, jazz 

✿ Warnings: mature, explicit language, rough and unprotected sex 

✿ Word count: 2.2k

a/n: Feedback is important to me <3

⇠ previously

New Orleans, 1948 

The strong smell of tobacco filled the small room, creating a thick cloud of smoke. I gently get out of bed to approach the only window of my room and open it, letting the cold air wash away the stench inside.

I sit on the padded bench in front of my dressing table, vainly retouching my smudged makeup that hides my pale skin. I apply perfume and rearrange the few clothes on my body. 

Where was my dignity? I don’t know, people made sure to take it from me violently. 

I notice by the reflection of the mirror the naked silhouette of that man who lay calmly on the bed. I felt repudiated, as well as with every man who passed through those same sheets. 

  "Are you going to sit there all night, doll?"

I shake my head, avoiding any kind of eye contact with him. I knew from his growl that he was also watching my reflection.

  “Come closer then.”

  “Yes, daddy.” I try to say it seductively. 

And without hesitation, I got up from the seat just to get closer to the obese man, who was already waiting for me sitting on the edge of the bed with a noticeable erection. I remain static in front of his figure and with my head bowed and my hands crossed behind my back, I wait for it to start. He runs his chubby hands over every corner of my body.

When his fingers invade my intimacy, I feign excitement and pleasure, while I exaggerate the sounds that come out of my throat, knowing how hard that put him on.

  “Good girl. Now lie down with your ass high for me, okay?”

I instantly positioned myself on the bed as he requested. I clench my fists on the sheets. My legs tremble visibly from exhaustion, yet it could easily be camouflaged with other type of reaction due to the moment. I close my eyes, ignoring the reflection of our bodies on the mirror that was on the side of the bed, set exclusively for some clients.

  “Do not close your eyes, baby.” He says in a growl as he thrusts inside of me.

My gaze is fixed again on the mirror, since I could not allow myself to disobey his requests. My face, accompanied by bright fine lines that ran down my cheeks, asking in muted screams for this torture to end.

Three more thrusts were enough for his heavy body to fall exhausted beside me. I collapse on the bed after faking a loud scream. 

❊

    "Nina, would you do it for me?" I ask my friend once again.

    “Hm, I don't know. Don't you think it's too risky?” She asks back.

I put on some more lip stick, before straightening the delicate fabric that adorns my burgundy hat. I turned around to see my friend's face, who’s sitting on the bed. I could notice the worry on her face ‘cause of the favor I was asking.

I let out a breath before kneeling in front of her, placing my hands on top of hers.

  “Please. It’ll be only for this afternoon, okay?”

  “No.” 

  "Nina, please! The boss is not here right now, he won’t notice that I’m gone for a little while.”

 "I don't care, ___! Even if he's not around, we're still being watched.” Even though the anger was visible on her face, she still called me by my nickname. “Besides, I don't understand your outburst of wanting to go out now!” Nina shakes her head, crossing her arms to reject my idea.

 "Because I don't want to wait another month to do so! I can do it today!" The first tears began to pool around the corner of my eyes.

 "And what is it that can't wait? How important is it to take this risk, ___?” 

 "Anything is much more important than this shitty place we're in."

 “But, ___... you know very well that it's your life that would be in danger.”

 "Nina, please! I already told you how wonderful it is! That place is everything I could dream of. The music was beautiful and people sang from their seats with a calmness that I envy. There was also a woman singing on the stage. A woman, Nina!”

The first drops trace a wet path down my cheeks. I knew that if I was caught escaping from this place, they wouldn’t doubt a second  to pierce my skull with one of his precious bullets.

 “Okay, but only for today” My friend pointed a finger at me as a warning.

  “Thanks girl!” I jump to give her a warm hug. “I promise I'll be as discreet as possible.”

  “You better.”

I give her one last smile before grabbing my coat to head out of the door, being totally careful of the noise my high heels might make against the wooden floor. I look both ways before taking my first steps out of the small shared room.

I had a big advantage on my side: the brothel was too big, so the guards wouldn't notice everything. They already have a lot to take responsibility for when the boss isn't around. They had to be careful with the customers who try to get away without paying or the ones who start a fight over a girl. Clearly, a cheap whore trying to get away was the least worries of all of their occupations.

I walk down the long and dark corridor, while hearing the murmurs from the floor above disappearing as I continue walking. My hands shake a little once I reach for the doorknob that I was looking for, the one that led me  to an external exit. When I open it and finally feel the cool afternoon air against my red face, my body finally relaxes.

No matter how far I got from the neighborhood, I still felt they were watching every step I took. Don’t get me wrong, I was really relieved to go away for a little while from that place, but the feeling of being followed couldn’t let me breath. 

I cover my arms with a thin cloth no matter how hot it is outside. The fear of not only being found out, but also being recognized by someone was something that didn't leave me in peace every time I went out.

The lights of the bars were already on, reflecting on the walls and on the stone floor. I could hear people chatting from the open balconies with an incredible view of the sunset. And, the music that I have been looking for, sounded closer and closer to me.

I sigh slowly, wanting to keep every space of that place inside me. After all, it was what kept me sane in the midst of so much darkness.

The memory of the melancholic melody of the saxophone accompanied by the piano, the hardness with which its musicians touch the strings of the guitar and bass... and that voice; every time I heard her sing, I was transported to an imaginary world in which I occupied that part of the stage and not her.

In those dreams that I see as impossible, I am the center of attention, where the focus of the lights and the interest of the people sitting there who were enjoying those ballads were on me. 

They looked at her with a romantic gaze, almost as if they were praising her in silence and they also knew and appreciated her talent beyond her body. I would love to live in that reality in which I sell myself for who I truly am and not my body.

My body stops moving when my eyes meet with the woman that’s on stage. I was amazed at her beauty and talent. She was the woman who I wanted to be. 

The bar was crowded with elegant people, but I could barely see their faces because of the dim lighting. I stand by the door, not expecting to stay for too long, yet… 

  "Miss?" A man whispers in my ear. 

The panic runs through my body as I feel how my doubts are flooding my thoughts once again. I hug myself tightly and inhale repeatedly, clearly ignoring the man's voice calling me.

Was he one of my clients? Did he recognize me?

 “Yes?” My voice trembles.

  “Would you like to sit down?” He asks once again.

I finally look at him and my breath fails me when our gazes collide. 

I look at his brown eyes, as well as his marked Asian features. His eyes are sharp, and his eyelids are uneven. I was speechless at how handsome he is.Even small things like that mole on the tip of his nose made him rarely beautiful. His posture radiates confidence as well as calmness. He’s taller than me, which surprisingly doesn't make me feel intimidated at all. 

 “Sorry?”

  “I was asking you if you wanted to sit down.” He sat down while pointing to the empty seat beside him. “I wouldn't mind a little company for this evening. Surely, as long as you want to.”

Suddenly, my shoes looked prettier than the gorgeous man beside me. Not letting him wait longer for a response, I returned my gaze to him.

"Y-yes…" I whisper as I brush a strand of hair off my face. “Thank you.”

"There's nothing to be thankful for," he kindly answers, and then takes the glass of whisky to his lips and takes a short sip before speaking again. “Is it the first time you come to the bar? I don't remember ever seeing you.”

“N-no, I mean, kind of. It was only once a long time ago.”

"Hm, I understand.”

He murmurs in a low tone while closing his eyes, delighted at the music. That was how we spent the rest of the evening. The woman on the stage had a beautiful red dress accompanied by a fur scarf. She sways her hips provocatively while her voice expresses melancholy. I look sideways at the man next to me. We enjoyed each other's silent company, along with music as the protagonist.

My eyes sparkled under the soft lights, knowing that I was about to cry. I subtly wipe my tears before ruining my makeup.

"Are you alright, miss?"

 "Y-yes, don't you worry ‘bout me." I say while giving him a smile, although forced. “It's just that music makes me sentimental.”

 “I understand… I also tend to get sentimental, especially when I'm there playing my saxophone.”

 "Wait, are you part of that band?" I ask, obviously surprised, seeing a lively sparkle in his eyes.

 "Not this one exactly. Let's say we take turns to play at the bar,” he gives me a friendly smile. “You should come to see us sometime. We play every Thursday.”

 “I'd love to…”

But before I can even continue speaking, I stand abruptly from the chair, seeing the time on my little wristwatch. I take a few steps back apologizing for the unexpected interruption and turn on my heels to leave the bar, but a hand gently grabbing my hand stops me from stepping outside.

 “You mind telling me your name?”

 "Please, excuse me." My voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. “I’m running late. Sorry, but I've to go now…”

By the tone of my voice, he could notice how desperate I was. He let go of my arm, while I apologize once again and run away from the bar. My tears fall freely, smearing the mascara on my face. I was just hoping that my boss hadn't arrived yet and noticed my absence. I don’t want any consequences for my stupid decision to run away.

I enter through the external door of the brothel again, being careful along the noise it could make. I stepped inside when I couldn’t see a soul in the corridors. I release all the air retained in my lungs and go into my room, dressing "properly" for the night.

As I was finishing retouching my makeup, the door opened abruptly.

"Where the hell have you been all this time, huh?!" My only friend asks me, closing the door behind her.

Her voice and face dripped with anger, as well as concern. I understood her, she would be just as angry if I had to cover for any of the girls.

“I already told you, at the bar.”

“I fucking know! What I meant is why did you take so long! The boss has been looking for you all this time on the top floor. When he saw me, he asked ‘bout you, I mentioned that you were indisposed to go up.” In the midst of her nervousness, she looks through a small space the door towards the outside. “I told him that I would come down to check on you, so he won't be taking long to come down as well.” 

And just as Nina said it, seconds later they opened the only privacy barrier in this place. My boss enters the room accompanied by his bodyguards.

 "Mia, are you ready?" He calls me by my fake name. The boss crosses his arms as he looks me up and down, smirking after seeing me ready to leave.

A shiver crosses my spine when I hear him calling me by that name. The same name he gave me when I first put a foot in this place. 

 “Yes, Boss.”

"Okay, then go ahead. We don't want to make our customers wait any longer, right?”

"No, boss.”

I finish tightening the strings of my heels around my ankles to finally get ready to go out.

[alittlextrathatway]

Only bought this dress so you could take it off + living room

Final part of the Football AU I started. You can find the other parts here: part one | part two | part three

***

Matt's been back in practices and games for two weeks when he finally approaches Sylvie about a date. He takes her out for dinner and a concert. Their special teams coach is in a Rush cover band and tonight was their last gig until after New Years. It was important to Mouch that they show up.

Afterward, they go out to dinner at Swift and Sons.

Sylvie calls it the best dinner she'd ever had and declares before they've even had dessert that Swift and Sons is her new favorite restaurant. To say Matt feels as if the date is going well is an understatement.

The two of them seem to have the same priorities and similar tastes. She loved spending their date supporting Mouch. Since she joined the team, Sylvie and Mouch have developed a close bond. He dotes on her as if she's the daughter he never had and Sylvie enjoys listening to him tell however many stories he wants. She appreciates his humor and his wisdom.

Watching Sylvie bond with someone who's been a mentor to him his entire career means more to him than Sylvie knows.

She cherishes the people in her life to the same degree Matt always has. To him, it speaks to her character and leaves him in more awe of her than ever.

"I can't believe you've never listened to Rush," he teases, shaking his head at her after he directs his driver to take them to Sylvie's condo.

Not one to simply sit back and take it, she dishes the teasing right back. "You'll have to forgive me for not being of a certain age."

"Did you just call me old?" Matt asks, feigning outrage. "I am not old!"

"No, but you have to admit you have suspiciously old taste in music," she says, chuckling through her words.

"Because I don't listen to Taylor Swift all the time, that means I'm old?"

"I don't listen to Taylor Swift all the time."

"No, that's true. Sometimes you listen to boybands."

"Hey! There is nothing wrong with a good boyband! We would be missing out on some truly iconic songs without them," she says, playfully smacking his shoulder.

"Okay, sure."

"Oh, I will get you to take that back eventually. Mark my words, Quarterback."

The car stops indicating they've arrived. Sylvie glances out the window but doesn't reach for the door handle. She briefly bites her bottom lip and then aims a beseeching smile at him. "Would you like to come up for a cup of coffee?"

Yes. He would like that very much. "As long as there's decaf," he jokes. "Or else I'm gonna be up all night."

She laughs and rolls her eyes at him. "Maybe being up all night might be worth it, did you think of that?"

Oh, he did. More than once. "I guess there's a chance it might, yeah."

She steps out of the car first, giving him the perfect view of her dress. It's black and backless with a halter neck. The knot holding it up rests on the nape of her neck. The minute she opened the door, he imagined what would happen if that knot came undone. He has no expectation of finding out tonight. They may have known each other for weeks now, but this is still their first date. Whatever happens, happens, but he won't put unnecessary pressure on her. Not about intimacy, physical or emotional. He knows better than most that if it's not freely given then it means nothing. Trying to force someone to do what you want them to do will always drive people further apart.

Once he's out of the car, she grabs his hand and laces their fingers together. Waving at her doorman as they pass, she makes a beeline for the elevator. Within a few minutes, that pass strangely quickly, they're standing in her living room as she drops her keys on to her coffee table.

Her condo is relatively small, but extremely cozy. She's filled it with soothing colors and personal memories. It's not just a place to live, it's a home. His condo is nowhere near this comfortable. He just never knows what to do with all the space. Aside from Football, he doesn't have many good memories to put in picture frames and use for decoration.

"I like your place," he offers, glancing around with a small wistful smile.

"Yeah, right," she says with a scoff. "It's tiny compared to your penthouse."

"More expensive isn't always better," Matt tells her. "I have a lot of space but it's all empty so it doesn't do me much good."

"Well, you can come and share my space anytime you want," Sylvie offers as she crosses the living room and heads for the kitchen. She starts a pot of coffee as she continues. "Honestly, most of the time I feel pretty isolated when I'm home. Being in a new city and not knowing very many people is lonely sometimes."

"You should call me when you need some company. I have no social life," he says with a self deprecating smirk. "You won't be interrupting anything."

“If you’re waiting for me to call and I’m waiting for you to come over then no wonder we’re both still so lonely all these weeks after meeting,” she says, laughing softly.

“I don’t want to disrupt your life any more than I already have,” he explains. It’s the first time that night that either of them have referenced their recent popularity in the press. Their affection for each other made it into Page Six and ever since the public has kept an eye on them, looking for any signs of their burgeoning relationship. “So, I’m trying to let you set the pace.”

“I appreciate that,” Sylvie says, looping her arms around his shoulders. “Most guys wouldn’t even think about that. Trust me, I know.”

His hands find her waist, pulling her closer and closer until her chest rests against his. “Yeah, well, I have a feeling you’re as private as I am. I had a hard time adjusting to life in the public eye early on in my career. I’d like to make that easier for you, if I can.”

“That’s a lot of thinking for a guy who hasn’t even kissed me yet.”

His stare roams her face and he finds a playful smile on her lips and a challenging gleam in her eyes. If he’s letting her behavior be his guide, then he’s long overdue on taking them to the next level. It’s a good thing he still has time to correct himself.

“It’s been nice to have a friend, Matt,” Sylvie tells him, letting one of her hands drift into the short hairs on the back of his head. “Especially while settling in. So, thank you for that.” He tenses for a second, afraid she might be letting him down easy, but then her eyes drift down to his lips as she keeps talking. ”But I’m all settled in now and I’d like to be more than just your friend. If that’s okay with you?”

He chuckles, holding her tighter and resting his forehead against hers. “That’s more than okay with me. Honestly, I’ve been waiting for this moment from the first minute that we met.”

She looks skeptical, unsure if he’s flattering her or being truthful, but before she can ask he swoops in and slants his mouth over hers -- sealing them together. A startled noise escapes her throat, but as her lips part and the kiss intensifies it deepens into a moan. She tries to press herself closer, but they’re as close as they can possibly be while standing up. Matt backs her up toward the sofa, pressing her down onto it once the backs of her legs hit the couch.

He’s not sure what she’s feeling but he knows for certain he’s never felt kisses like these. They’re drugging and exhilarating all at once. Goosebumps raise all over his skin and he feels overheated everywhere he hands wander. He can already tell she’s going to be an addiction he’ll never be able to quit.

This is a once in a lifetime moment and he plans to commit every bit of it to memory. The textures, the tastes, the sounds -- not a bit of it will fade no matter how long he lives.

As his kisses trail down her neck, Sylvie gently pushes against his shoulder, indicating she wants his attention. When he looks up at her, she’s grinning wickedly.

“I don’t know where you see this night going or how far you want to take this, but you should know…I bought this dress with the intention of it ending up on the floor.”His fantasy of untying that delicate bow resting on the nape of her neck comes roaring back to him as he smiles slowly and crookedly. She’s already making his wildest dreams come true and he has a feeling she’ll bring many more of them to life in the future. This isn’t just any date, it’s the date. He knows in his bones that this is the last first date he’ll ever have.

[sweetmage]

Some Tav!Abdirak thoughts pertaining to intimacy and healing in regards to his backstory and relationship with Ast*ri*n (don't want it in the tag)

⚠️ TW for mentions of sexual trauma and general sexual topics, self-harm, general potentially triggering subject matter

So original I had it in my head that at some point him and Alois became sexually intimate with each other, but after actually writing out his backstory I just don't really think that's realistic or feasible given the amount of trauma he endured prior, the timespan, and the nature of his relationship with Alois. I think the extent of their intimacy was chaste physical affection and domestic activities like sharing a bed for sleep, hair braiding, kissing, etc.

Of course there is certainly a sexual element to his worship, and quite an empowering and cathartic one at that, though there is never any direct sexual contact and he remains fully clothed and doesn't tend to actually get off then and there unless it's a spontaneous thing that happens without touching.

Actual sexual intimacy in any sense (except by his own hand) has remained wholly off the table, both from lack of desire and lack of necessity. It doesn't hold the greater purpose that pain does and it's territory he still is not ready to tread, especially since he has had no close relationships since Alois because he doesn't stay in one place too long.

So with all that said, this actually makes the situation with Astarion far worse than I had initially intended. The first time he slept with Astarion was... not entirely pleasant. He had been lonely, stressed, and for the first time was in close enough proximity for a long enough time to actually form a genuine bond with someone, so when the party came around he was apprehensive but not entirely opposed to the idea. However, after a few drinks with Shadowheart (liquid courage as she calls it), he ends up going through with it... the next day he is certain he never wants to do that again. It was an overall unpleasant experience for him that was only made tolerable by the alcohol, but you live and you learn. He didn't hold that against Astarion, it was his own experimentation and he had confirmed he wasn't ready for sex.

But the next time... that time Astarion was really pressuring him even though he didn't want to (for the dialogue options I kept choosing the ones that hinted at uncertainty). Astarion kept insisting that Abdirak clearly wanted him and it was obvious, which made Abdirak question himself and his own judgement. In a way most out of character for him (brought about as a result of latent, unprocessed trauma) he ended up caving to Astarion and having an over all awful time. In fact, he suggested Astarion bite him midway (feigning that he simply enjoyed it more) to end the encounter more quickly, since he sensed that there was some ulterior motive there.

Sure enough, that was the end of it. The night of the event he secluded himself in the ruins on the far side of camp, going very heavy on the "worship" (read: self-harming with the excuse of it being worship) to clear thoughts. Shadowheart ended up finding him there and dragging her bedroll over to spend the night there with him even though he insisted he'd be alright and neglected to tell her what happened.

He didn't talk to Astarion or offer him blood for several weeks after that and their relationship remained very rocky for a while. At one point (in the variant romance scene you can get from talking to Araj before Raphael) Astarion very flippantly mentions how easy he was to manipulate. This, of course, crumbles any repairs they'd made to their relationship by that point and Abdirak once again refuses to speak to him, leaving before the love confession and explanation. Astarion is genuinely confused by this reaction.

Despite all this and his anger and disgust towards him, he still helps Astation with the deal with Raphael because he's nothing if not good on his word and he is still sympathetic towards the trauma he faced, even if he feels like he has not been offered the same in return.

Naturally, Astarion is quite confused by this and tells him as much and then the main romance scene more or less plays out (with added questioning as to *why* he helped). Somewhere in that conversation (probably after Astarion reveals his own sexual trauma and motives) Astarion gleans the truth and is rightly mortified at what he'd done to Abdirak.

Abdirak, of course, isn't happy that Astarion went through that and he's not also not thrilled about what he did either, but there is some understanding and even a little messed up relief in knowing that he was not senslessly used for Astarion's pleasure.

Likewise he apologizes to Astarion for using him that first night to assess the depths of his own traumas instead of taking the time to work through that on his own.

After a very long, uncomfortable, and difficult talk they take entirely off the table and agree to start over.

I don't think they actually sleep together again until post canon, not even at the graveyard scene. Astarion becomes ready before he does which makes so much more sense for Abdirak now that I've realized his first times ever willingly engaging in a purely sexual encounter were those two horrendous encounters with Astarion.

I think it's a very emotional experience when they finally do though 🥺 Of course naturally things get kinky later as the trust between them develops further, but it's still a very big thing that first time. It takes more trust than letting Astarion bite him every night (even after Astarion nearly killed him that first time he drank from him lol) does.

[queerplatonic-headcanons]

Mod Headcanon: Bruce Wayne, Diana Prince, & Clark Kent (aka the World’s Finest)

(It’s no secret I’m not as big of a DC fan as I am of Marvel, so this is gonna be a mashup of various comics, movies, and animated shows, and a small headcanon plotline in the middle there.)

Bruce is AroAce and Trans

Diana is Bi/Pan

Clark is Queer and Nonbinary

Bruce Wayne is Gotham’s most notorious playboy. At least as far as the public is concerned, and Bruce is happy to let them believe it. The truth is unlikely to do any good for his, or the company’s, image. As a child, regardless of the wealth his parents left behind, and an endless number of suitors, of all classes and genders, being thrown at his feet, he preferred solitude to company, would rather pursue knowledge than courtship. He remained much the same through high school and college, until his ‘peers’ started to notice his lack of interest, and he learned to fake it just enough to keep the jackals in the press off his heels. Becoming the Bat was freeing in a way. He sacrificed very little during his training, less than other men had done, at least, and thrived without the expectations and judgment of Gotham’s High Society. He found it harder to keep up the mask of Bruce Wayne when he came back, and spent every party longing for moonlit rooftops. He was never fond of dancing, never liked what it alluded to, the forced intimacy and fumbling hands ever present reminders of desires he couldn’t reciprocate. As the Bat, though, he wasn’t beholden to the expectations of what a man should want or be, all people asked of him was justice, protection, a knight in shadowed armour. There was one like him, a Cat with expensive tastes, who feigned hunger the way he did, who saw right through his façade, left him with the knowledge that he wasn’t alone, and promised him a partner who wanted nothing beyond a dance.

He wasn’t thinking about optics when he adopted Dick, but having an heir put an end to the ever-increasing pressure from his contemporaries and the media to “think about his legacy”. Though children were never part of his original plan, he found that fatherhood suited him well, and for most of his children he was able to skip the unpleasant part of making the kid. He never resented or regretted Damian, but he never forgave Talia. She didn’t take no for an answer, and when he wouldn’t give her what she wanted, she took it. Clark and Diana learned very quickly not to press that particular subject.

Diana had always loved without regard to gender, though she never gave it much thought until she left Themyscira, because it was not something that was ever taboo. There were many things she found strange about humans, but the way they treated love with so much hatred she could never comprehend. The amazons knew of all kinds of love, and the most revered bond was that between sisters in arms: not just warriors who fought together, but those whose bond was so strong they fought as one. Diana longed for that connection, never found it in Themyscira, almost had it with Steve, and finally found it in Bruce and Clark.

Bruce especially reminded her of a fellow amazon she had once loved dearly, and thought she might share that warrior’s bond with. It was centuries before she left the island herself, and he had confessed to her that he’d never felt like the woman everyone mistook him for, and she could see how desperately he wanted to be free of the expectations others placed on him. She knew the feeling to a certain extent. So she helped him flee Themyscira, and still holds out hope she may one day find him here, in the world of man, and that he would understand her joy at having found that bond she had once looked for in him.

Growing up, Clark always felt a disconnect between the gender their Ma and Pa told them they were and the way they felt on the inside. When they learned of their heritage, they figured it must be an alien thing, which it was. Kind of. There was no exact human equivalent for the kryptonian concepts of gender, but some spelunking through google landed them with a few helpful words: nonbinary, xenogender, and singular they.

Clark had always thought everybody was pretty, but tried to ignore the feelings that would get a ‘boy’ living in rural Kansas into trouble. They did confide in Ma and Pa, who were amazing about it, but they didn’t feel like their parents would ever completely understand. The whole ‘actually an alien’ thing definitely helped explain the gender thing, but left them conflicted as to whether they found everybody pretty because their own gender was ‘different’ to everyone else’s, or if their gender and others’ didn’t factor into it at all. Eventually they settled on being just plain Queer and went on with their life.

Lois broke it off because, though she did love them, try as she might, she was straight, and she just couldn’t love them the way they loved her, seeing as she was only attracted to men, something they just weren’t. The two stayed friends, and eventually Lois was the one that gave them the final push to talk out their feelings with Diana and Bruce.

Their attraction to the two was another thing that they thought, at first, was another weird alien thing. They knew after the first meeting they found them both distractingly pretty, and after getting to know them, they could feel themself falling deeply in… something. It felt like love but they also knew that, try as they might, whatever this was was very much not romantic or sexual, and they had plenty of experience with what those felt like, this just… wasn’t that. It wasn’t until after another intensive round of googling that Clark found that what they were feeling was just as human as it was Kryptonian.

It was Clark who finally got the ball rolling, sat the other two down and confessed all they had been feeling and said, in no uncertain terms, what they wanted, the relationship they hoped to pursue. Diana was delighted to find that humans(and, evidently, Kryptonians) had a similar bond in their society to the one she was hoping for with the warriors near to her. Bruce was the hardest to convince, not because he didn’t reciprocate, he very much did, but because they couldn’t quite believe that they really only wanted a, what had Clark called it? A QPR with him and nothing… beyond that. Though he hadn’t said anything about it, Clark and Diana were quite sure now that Talia had not been the only one is Bruce’s life who struggled with the word “No.”

It took a while and a lot of reassuring, but Bruce eventually allowed himself to believe them, and agreed to what turned out to be, their opinion, at least, the World’s Finest QPR.