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maudie-duan · 2 days ago

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Summary: If you love me right, then who knows, I might let you make me Juno...Harry’s is the hot owner of a coffee shop you frequent. What are the odds he’s been dying to get your number??? A/N: Shout out to @howling-wolf97 for the request!! From my new Sabrina Series: Harry One Shots inspired by lyrics from our favorite little icon, Sabrina Carpenter.

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Word Count: 10.2k

Warning: 18+ fluff/smut

Marie: Dude, is that for real?

Y/N: Yes! Like we were talking, and for some reason, I felt bold and was like, prove it.

Marie: Wow! Very bold for my prude whittle bb.

Y/N: Omg, dude, I’m not a prude. I’m just shy, and honestly, I’m so proud of myself. He makes me so freaking nervous. He’s so fuuuuuucking hot.

Marie: God bless his dad’s genetics! 🍆🍆🍆

Y/N: I know!! The whole package!

Marie: He’s practically offering it up on a silver platter, bitch. You better hop on that…like for real! That’s the kind of dick for freaky shit…lol.

Y/N: You’re annoying. Yeah, he seems very sure of himself, like it’s almost intimidating. I feel like there’s no guessing. He hasn’t really pushed the sex thing. That part was just random. That was the first time we talked about it. Do you think I’m objectifying him by sending you that? Fuck, I just got excited.

Marie: Definitely, but only if you tell him you did it, and it sounds like he wants you! Omg! now you have someone to try those pink fuzzy handcuffs with…the ones I bought you for Christmas.

Y/N: Maybe…who knows?

Marie: Maybe he was warning you, preparing you for what’s to cuuuummm! And that’s you, girl!

Y/N: Jesus.

Marie: Just saying…

Y/N: I have to go! I’m about to grab some coffee. I hope his hot ass is working!!

Marie: Maybe he’ll make you come a latte…

Y/N: I hate you! bye!

Marie: You love me, and I’m happy you finally have someone decent on your radar! I’m sure he adores you, and you’re just overthinking it. Just talk to him. Text me if you see him. I want to know everything!

You saw him the second you walked into the coffee shop—It only took you ten minutes to hype yourself up enough to walk inside, but here you were.

In the midst of your prep talk, after you sorted through all the possible scenarios, you decided the best thing you could do was place a mobile order, that way if he wasn’t there, you could be in and out, but as soon as your eyes landed on the mobile counter Harry, your boy wonder barista, was chatting up some cute blonde, her friend standing close by.

You could relate to the friend, staring doe-eyed, a stargazed smile playing at her mouth, and as you watched, you imagined that if her long hair was freed from her high ponytail, she would be twirling the long strands around her finger, tossing it over her shoulder every time her friend laughed, or Harry’s eyes moved to hers. She had that desperate third-wheel energy, and although you knew the feeling, the second-hand embarrassment gutted you from across the room, your insides crawling up as you witnessed the blonde let out a screechingly high laugh, one that felt way too forced, almost halting you in place as you made your way over to the counter, and you tried not to make a face.

This wasn’t the first time you had noticed pretty stragglers, the girls that lingered a little too long, and being the owner of this shop, he had an effortless way of collecting them, you chalking it up to good customer service because he was always going to need the business. You knew you could never be mad about this part because it was part of his livelihood.

Especially when, as soon as you were in Harry’s line of sight, his eyes found yours, a broad smile spreading across that gorgeous face, and dammit, if you weren’t dying to follow through with whatever he may have been implying the other night.

Because shit, when he sent you that pic, his rock-hard cock standing tall, and those fucking tattoos marking his v-cut. He had your head spinning. You weren’t even a dick pic, girl, and there you were drooling over the thought of that dick inside you, and honestly, you weren’t even sure why you asked for a picture in the first place—a dick is just a dick in your book, but there was something about just knowing, that horny thought tickling the back of your mind any time you saw him standing behind that coffee bar.

The strange part was that you hadn’t even talked to him since. That was four days ago, and for some reason, you were too scared to speak to him. I guess there were other reasons: you had been busy with work, starting that new internship—more like a glorified assistant position—the first two days were long and grueling, and it gave you a few extra days to sit on the thought, but then you realized texting back would make it real, right? What kind of response was he expecting?

It was late when he sent the picture, so it was understandable if you had fallen asleep, but you also weren’t sure if you not responding, pivoted the vibe, and now there was only one way to find out.

Yes, you were, without a doubt, interested, but you had been out of the dating game for a while; you couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex. It would be nice; he could definitely break you in, clear the cobwebs, pick you up, and dust you off because a toy can only do so much, and lately, you’ve only been taking it out on special occasions…whatever that means.

And let’s be real; you’ve been doing anything to justify your barren behavior. Who even needs a special occasion to get off? What were you turning into? You were getting way too comfortable in your independent ways, and while that’s great for most, it was okay to loosen the reigns every once in a while and get your metaphorical “dick sucked” because you deserved it; you deserved this, and as you reach the counter, Harry is pulling your drink toward him, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, while the blonde talks at him.

“Unfortunately, I have very little free time these days, but I can definitely ask the crew if they’re interested in any…was it pilate classes?” He asks the blonde as her flirty smile falters ever so slightly, almost giving herself away, and your eyes move back to your drink, now clasped in his hand on the counter.

“Here, why don’t I get your number…I can, like, send you the info or something…” and you have to admit, it was smooth, the perfect segway to land the cute coffee shop owner’s number.

Then your eyes flick to Harry, who’s patting his pockets, searching for his phone, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “You know what? I don’t have my phone…”

And just when you think he’s distracted, you reach forward across the counter, ready to swipe your drink and run, but he’s quick, strangely aware of your presence, and he snatches up the drink, a smile on his face as he says, “Maybe Jen at the register has a pen and paper you can write it down…” Then his eyes sweep to yours, sending you a wink—a fucking wink, and you have to stop your jaw from dropping because as soon as the blonde picks up on the interaction, she scoffs under her breath and looks over at her friend.

“Hi…” He says, giving you his full attention, and from the corner of your eyes, you can see the blonde standing there dumbfounded, maybe rarely getting rejected because you can definitely tell that’s a pilates body, the perfect canvas for her matching Lululemon set, and when her friend tugs on her arm, you bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile.

“I’m here to pick up a mobile order…” you tell him, fainting innocence because, after all, you were the one that never texted him back.

Harry looks down at the drink in his hand, “Hmmm…did you order a grande London Fog with oat milk, no vanilla, sub brown sugar…” and Jesus, the way he says sugar makes you want to lick your lips, the word glazing over his tongue; that British drawl never getting old.

“Embarrassingly enough, yes…but it sounds ridiculous when it’s said out loud like that, shhhhh….” you say, reaching for your drink, but he only pulls it further out of reach. He’s in a playful mood this morning, and you can tell he’s not holding a grudge for your sudden onset of silence because it was kind of sudden.

After you ran into each other at that John Mayer concert, the one your sister forced you to go to—You only remembered a few of his songs from childhood, the ones your sister played to death, so you spent that night drinking, pregaming before the show, you know, being a supportive sister until her boyfriend decided to come at the last minute, making you the tag along.

As soon as the music started playing, it wasn’t that bad. The whole set was acoustic, his smooth voice echoing off the stone mountains, the weather perfect as the stars twinkled above, and really, it was the perfect concert to sit cozied up to your boyfriend so you couldn’t be too mad at your sister because it was nice seeing her this happy. So, when you snuck away to use the bathroom, you weren’t expecting to run into your favorite hot barista, and what are the odds that he would be alone?

He was standing in line for a drink, and you were just tipsy enough to follow through with a, “Oh hey…Harry, right?” like an idiot because you definitely didn’t know him like that, and surely it was weird on your part, approaching him like you had ever formally introduced yourself.

Every transaction you guys have ever had was him being friendly because it was his job, right? Like for example, you knew his name only because he wore a name tag, not because you’ve ever taken the time to ask him, and maybe he’s asked you a few questions here and there, but you had seen him do that plenty of time, whether you were waiting in line or sitting in the cafe before you finished school, you know, a friendly shop owner trying to get business and that’s what you thought, but then he called you by name, and this was new because you couldn’t remember if you had actually heard him say it directly to you—you would have remembered the way it fell from his perfect lips as you watched his dimples dip into his cheeks.

And once you got over the initial shock of him knowing your name, him clearing the air, trying to play it down, telling you he sees a lot of regulars out and about, you said, “I guess I thought I flew under the radar…” which was silly, because what the fuck did you mean by that and what did you know about planes, then he laughed and told you:

“I’ve definitely noticed you on many occasions…” As a clever smile turned up the corners of his mouth, you felt it: the heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks warming as his eyes swept over your face, stealing your focus, and it was sudden, his effect as the noise began to fade—a head rush—then the world started slowing down around you, your heart echoing in your ears. When he smiled, he licked his lips, and you watched as that smile spread into a knowing grin, and just like that, you were hooked, like magnets, for the rest of the night.

Then, somehow, it was all smooth sailing, and that’s the part that gets you later when you look back on that night. It was like a miracle from the fucking universe because what were the chances—and when he offered to buy you a drink, and you found out he was there by himself, you felt brave enough to ask if he wanted to join you because fuck being the third wheel when you had a chance to chat up the hot-ass coffee shop owner.

You couldn’t believe your luck. How many times did Harry lean over and whisper in your ear? His deep voice like velvet brushing down your spine, and each time, Harry inched closer and closer until you were shoulder to shoulder. With every movement he made, you felt him—hyper-aware of everything, all the little detail as John Mayer practically set the mood, him ending the concert with ‘Your Body Is A Wonderland,’ and thank the fucking stars up above because, dammit, if that song hasn’t become Harry’s theme song in your head because nothing else will do because now you would have that moment forever, floating across your memory.

When Harry politely placed his hand on your knee, whispering, “We should exchange numbers….” as John said his thanks, wishing everyone a good night, you sat there wishing you could end this night with Harry’s lips on yours.

Maybe in another universe, Harry would have kissed you goodnight, but you were with your sister, and you had already made plans with her. So when sister tried to play matchmaker and invite him to join you guys after, he graciously declined, telling you guys he had to open in the morning, and that’s when you realized you were actually okay with his not joining. You needed time to digest this evening, mull it over until it was real, and as you floated still on a high from the evening to the car, there you were, sending him a text just before your phone died.

That night, as you crawled into bed hours later, still riding that same high. Harry’s face was fresh on your mind, familiar but in a new light.

All you could think about were those fleeting moments when you guys traded phones—Both of you entering each other’s numbers as you stole a quick glance at Harry’s shakey fingers, typing away at your keyboard—There was something so vulnerable about the idea of your phone being in his hand, of you holding his, an act of trust right off the bat, you thought as you plugged in your phone— a hazy daydream of Harry’s fingers playing out, picturing his yellow nails, each one marked with a happy face, and it’s exactly how you felt, how he made you feel.

Because how did it happen? And when your phone came back to life, there was his name, Harry Styles, a message setting the tone for all the weeks to follow:

H: Hi, Sorry! I’m passing out soon. The dreadful opening shift is killing me this week. I’m really glad we ran into each other. Kind of crazy, but I’ve been trying to think of ways to get your number for a while. I hope that’s not weird or anything. Thanks for letting me crash your evening with your family. You were definitely a pleasant surprise. See you around.

Fast forward several weeks, and here he was, standing before you, once a stranger but still one of the sexiest guys you had ever seen because let’s not pretend like you haven’t been eyeing him ever since you started coming to this coffee shop. Now, there were numerous possibilities—the looming thought of him being inside you, hanging over your heads, added static building between you, and yes, his flirting right now is solidifying the deal for you because he wants you. You can see it in his eyes, the electricity coursing through your veins when they flit to your mouth, and then he says:

“I was getting worried…I haven’t heard from you,” and he smirks nonchalantly reading the label of your drink as your eyes sweep over his face.

His playfulness simmers into that casual, relaxed demeanor you’ve grown so fond of, and you can’t help but smile, your body warming at the thought of that last message, the image flashing across your vision, but there’s something different about the interaction, the thought of him more intimate because now you had the pleasure of piece together more details, more things about himself that he’s revealed, and let you kept, collecting bits of Harry that only make you like him more.

“I’m sorry, I started that internship…it was crazy the first few days…” you tell him.

“Oh yeah, I was wondering how that was going…” and this makes you smile. His attentiveness, his genuine curiosity about your life because he really did seem interested this whole time, from the very beginning. “I was hoping I didn’t scare you off—”

“Mmmm…” you nod, getting lost in a trance, his words like a switch, igniting that little flame within. He has a way of sucking you in, making you feel like you’re the only person in the room, the way he holds your gaze, never flinching, never shying away.

“Yeah?” He nudges, a curious look pulling between his brows.

You clamor a nervous laugh, the sound making you stumble over your words, “Yeah—I mean—no—no…not scared…I mean, no, you didn’t scare me off…”

“Not scared…” he laughs

And you squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head, as a smile spreads across your face, “Yeah…whatever that means…” you laugh, this time taking control of your reaction because shit, you are giving yourself away, and it’s no wonder you didn’t text him back because you can’t even keep it together enough to form the right words, let alone a sentence for that matter.

“Mmmmm….” he hums, that sly grin back in full swing, and you don’t even want that hot drink anymore because it’s fucking roasting in here, and you hope with all your might that he’s not picking up on your embarrassment, but then he says:

“Did you want a water?”

“A water?” you ask confused.

“Yeah, you usually get a water…you seem thirsty this morning—”

“Thirsty?” you question, caught up in that smile.

“Yeah, do you want extra ice, maybe cool you down a little bit?”

This is when you finally catch on to his joke, “I think I have to go and never come back, “ you say, turning away slightly.

“No—no—no—no—no—no” He laughs, reaching over the counter to grab your arm, and you feel the blush creeping further, setting your whole body on fire. “I’m just joking… you’re cute when you blush….”

“Oh really? Because now I think I want to die,” you force, hitching your thumb toward the door as he releases your arm.

Harry shakes his head, that smile even more persistent, “I’m only teasing…here…” he says, pushing your drink forward, “I promise I won’t poke anymore fun…” and just as the words fall from his mouth, a random girl walks up, grabbing her drink, her eyes trained on Harry, smiling over to get his attention, but his eyes never leave your face. All you want to do is climb onto this counter and let him take you right then and there—let him claim you, make you his, pray that you’re his one and only because every time you see him, that want, that need to have him. Buries itself deeper inside you—each new day, every new detail only makes you like him more.

“Would you want to come over tonight?” Harry asks, catching you off guard, the question tripping you up again.

“Oh, my roommate is having people over tonight, so I can’t host…” you tell him, unaware that you heard the question wrong because this would be the first time you guys hung out alone, without the safety of a crowded bar or the public eye of his coffee shop.

“No—” he laughs, thoroughly entertained by you this morning, “Would you like to come to mine? I don’t mind hosting…maybe watch a movie or something…”

Or something…you think, something wild, your thoughts spinning as you nod your head up and down, words suddenly hard.

“So is that a yeah?” he pokes.

“Yeah—yeah—yeah—” you confirm, still nodding, “Yup, that sounds good…that sounds really good…”

And you’re kicking yourself for that last bit, “Really good, huh?” he repeats, really driving it home.

“God, I have to go…” and you fucking giggle like a little schoolgirl, “I think I need caffeine or something…” you tell him backing away.

He chuckles, his eyes dropping to the drink in your hand. “I steamed it extra hot this morning…”

“Thank you! I—” you tell him, your tone rising as you turn away because you almost walked right into that one, and just as you’re about to push through the door, Harry shouts, “I’ll text you…” and then you’re through the door, gasping in a breath, the cold air filling your lung; a soothing relief. There is no way you can look back, and as you slide into the driver seat, your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and you lift your ass in your seat and peer down at the screen, swiping it open:

H: I’m looking forward to tonight. I’ll start thinking of movie options. Let me know what you think you might be hungry for, and I’ll order food.”

If this had been a weekday, you would have called in. You would have risked the internship because this was monumental—You were going to Harry’s place—This was bound to be a turning point, a change in scenery for you both, more personal, shifting the mood from friendly to possibly sexy, and this you had to prepare for.

You waited until you got home to text him back. You didn’t want to come off as too excited; you wanted to play it cool. I guess, yes, you could have texted him back right then and there, but why not leave some mystery? You already knew you wanted Chinese food; that was a no-brainer, but when he texted you and told you his internet was down. He asked if you had any DVDs, and this made you laugh. You had only kept a few random movies over the years stowed away in a box in your closet, a sparse collection curated specifically for you, especially not for a hot dude you were trying to get with.

And when you pulled your old box of belongings from the dusty top shelf, you laughed the second you opened it. There, sitting on top, were three random DVDs—you were beside yourself because now you were questioning your younger self, wondering why the fuck you would keep any of these movies, store them away like prized gold.

Okay, maybe there was something about the movie ‘Twilight’ that was worth keeping. You could understand that, and as you pulled it from the box, your eyes swept over the cover. You thought about the kind of vibe it would set, and it seemed like a movie you’d make your boyfriend watch when you just wanted a movie to cozy up together, something you knew he would never enjoy but would watch for you because he loved you. Maybe it would be okay if you both had seen it, but if Harry hadn’t seen it. This wasn’t the time, so you placed it on the floor next to you, making it an option.

When you pulled ‘The Notebook’ out, the cover Ryan Gosling and Rachel Mcadams about to embrace in a passionate kiss, you literally laughed out loud because there was no way in hell you wanted to watch this movie with him. It was way too soon. What message would you be sending if you chose that one, maybe you were overthinking this all, but hell, this was a big deal, and you wanted it all to go smoothly. You didn’t want to imply too much this early on, but at the same, the more you thought about it, the more you thought that you could actually see this going somewhere, and maybe it wasn’t just the sex you wanted—it was him.

Everything about him screamed—interested.

It didn’t seem like a facade to get you into bed because if that were the case, you think he would have already acted on it; something about the pace of your interactions meant more than a hookup. You found his genuine curiosity in you endearing, the biggest turn on in a very long time, and if sex came cool—He was already “fucking” your brain with his authenticity because if you really broke it down. None of the boys that have popped up in the last couple of months were ever worth your time. You had been waiting around for a man—a real man, to swoop in, a man that was sure of himself, that had his shit together, that was interested in more than just a casual hook-up because you were over that bullshit, over the feeling of being disposable in somebody else’s roster.

And while you weren’t fully sure of Harry’s intentions, you bet if you asked, he would tell you. He was busy. He had a business to run, for heaven’s sake, and something told you he didn’t have a lot of time to fuck around, like when he told that pilates instructor he was busy, there was definitely some truth in that. You could tell he was organized with his time by the way he made plans—each hang out thoughtfully procured with your time at the forefront, never flaking or making excuses, never changing the plans at the last minute.

In fact, everything about him so far was a major turn on, and as you skimmed through your underwear drawer, trying to piece together a matching set because you could be a grown-up too, you laughed, your eyes flicking over to the third movie laid out across your floor, Juno—that was the one—That would be the perfect movie. You couldn’t even remember the last time you watched it, at least not as an adult. So you did the polite thing and sent him a picture, the movies lined up in a neat row, and as you sent the picture, you internally wished that he would choose Juno like maybe that would be the universe’s way of saying, “Yeah…you’re on the same page…this ones a keeper…”

H: We should talk about your movie collection later…but without a doubt, Juno for me…but I wouldn’t be opposed to The Notebook either…I’ll let you pick.

You laugh, falling back onto your bed, watching those tiny little dots move at the bottom of the screen.

H: Also, I’m going comfy vibes, like sweatpants and t-shirt kind of night, just a heads up.

Then you’re kicking your feet, that inner school girl rising up again, and now you’re fucking obsessing over this guy, over the fact that he just gets it, like somehow he’s becoming the complete package, like all those late-nights thinking about him was finally starting to pay off.

H: Ordering the food now, see you soon!

You send him a text, leap off the bed and rush to finish getting dressed; that picture of his dick in the foyer of your mind, and you squeeze your thighs together at the thought, already horny with the idea of just walking through his door, the idea of sitting on the same couch and it’s like you’re a teenager all over again, dying to makeout until your lips are chapped, rub your body against his until the friction has you wet until his hands are roaming your body, needy to explore every inch of you.

This is what you’re thinking as you wait for him to open the door, your heart thudding away in your chest. When you hear the click of the knob and the door creaks open, your stomach twists with butterflies, the flutter seizing your whole body as he reaches out to embrace you in a hug, but your hands are full, and you can only lean into his side, a half-ass hug as he starts collecting each item, kicking the door closed behind you.

“Glad you found it okay,” Harry tosses over his shoulder as you follow him into the living room.

Harry sets your stuff down on the coffee table just as the doorbell chimes, “Ah, that must be the food, be right back, just make yourself at home…” He smiles, his eyes searching your face, and you hope you’re not coming off too nervous because, let’s face it, this is intimidating as fuck. You figured he had his shit together, but his place was amazing, eclectic yet put together like he actually paid full price for his couch, probably brand new, a large fluffy L-shape—you couldn’t help but flop down onto the cushion, exhaling all your self-doubt because what’s the worst that could happen, you think as your eyes flit shut, sinking into the feeling of comfort.

“I’m going to grab some dishes,” he says, stirring you from your thoughts, and you open your eyes as he releases the sack of food, the boxes making a dull thud as they hit the table.

You push yourself up with a smile, him catching you in the middle of testing out his sofa, “Comfy couch,” you tell him, clearing your throat.

He laughs, “It really is. If I fall asleep during the movie, you’ll have to wake me.”

“I was literally just thinking the same thing. I drank coffee before I came, so—”

He runs a hand through his hair, “I honestly did the same…I didn’t want to leave a bad impression. I’m notorious for falling asleep early.”

You laugh then, “Well, if I had to get up at the ass crack of dawn to open a coffee shop, I would never have a social life.”

“My social life is barely functioning…trust me….” He tells you, “I’ll be back in just a second. Are you good with chopsticks, or would you like a fork?”

“Chopsticks are great, thank you.” You grin, your cheeks squishing into a wide smile.

“What?” he asks, matching your smile.

“Nothing…nothing…I’ll set up the movie,” you offer, needing to look away, needing to look anywhere else because he is so fucking cute, and those sweatpants are so hot on him, hugging the bulge you know is there, and if you stare too long you might start undressing him.

“That would be perfect, thank you.” and his manners make you smile even more as you stand to your feet, slipping your shoes off to get cozy.

The movie is set, and when he sees the opening menu of Juno, he laughs as the old wood floors creak under his soft footfalls. His presence fills the room in a matter of seconds, drawing you back to the moment, making you all too aware that this is real when he sits closer than you expected, his elbow softly grazing yours, and you can’t seem to find any words, you heart racing, maybe second-guessing if you’re actually ready for this, and really this is just you guys watching a movie. You know it doesn’t have to be anything else, but then there’s the desperate side of you, the side that wants to explore every option because there is something about him that feels safe and open to every prospect.

Getting past the eating part was fine, and as you guys cozied up with your plates and the movie began, it wasn’t even strange that the opening scene was a mild sex scene because you were both adults and honestly, it was barely a sex scene, mostly implied, kind of like this night with Harry.

It was when the eating was done, all the niceties out of the way. There was still an hour of the movie left, the room dark now, only the soft glow of the television casting light over you both. Harry’s knee was casually pressed against yours as the both of you sat cross-legged on the couch. Every time he moved even the slightest, your eyes would drop to your knee, a low hum buzzing up your thigh, and as soon as you brought any attention to the touch in your mind, that feeling of want pulled between your legs, making you suck in a slow, silent breath through your nose, you reminding yourself to breath, trying not to draw any attention to yourself.

Eventually, you relaxed enough to sink into the movie— overly focused on the screen—even when Harry stretched his legs out and slid further down on the couch cushion, his arm stretching across the pillow behind your head. You didn’t even move. You just sat there so quietly and so still, nearly holding your breath, and maybe he must have picked up on this because then he was pausing the movie, suggesting a bathroom break.

And the second he walked out of the room, you felt your whole body decompress, and you filled your lungs with as much oxygen as you could, gulping in air like the second he walked back in the room, he would steal the very air you were breathing. Why were you still nervous? He hadn’t tried anything, he wasn’t being weird or hinting at anything, no hidden expectations floating to the surface because you guys really were just hanging out, but that still didn’t make it feel any easier. Before he left the room, you could feel the tension straining in your shoulders as you sat there, your muscles burning from your rigid posture—you needed to chill; you were the one that needed to get your shit together.

When you heard his footsteps, you shot up from the couch like a fucking weirdo, almost losing your footing, but you caught yourself before you could fall, a nervous laugh slipping past your lips, and by the way, your face was already starting to burn, you were glad it was too dark to see the flush rising to your cheeks.

“All good?” He asks, a slow smile spreading as his brows knit together.

You nod, forcing an odd laugh, “Is the bathroom that way?” you point in the direction he just came from, and you barely catch his nod as you take the long way around the couch, avoiding any chance of touching or his body brushing yours because it’s obvious you’re being a fucking chicken, because there’s no way a grown man was inviting you over just watch a movie.

As you shut the door behind you, you exhale, realizing you were holding your breath that entire walk to the bathroom, and then you can’t fill your lungs quick enough as the anxious thoughts rise within, suffocating you, your anxiety trying to get the best of you. You can do this. Everything is okay, you are capable of communicating, you could march in there and just talk, you could ask what the deal is, what it is that he’s looking for because if it’s just to fuck, that is doable that part feels like a piece of cake, you would love to get off, but this was more, you can feel it in your bones, there was knowingly something different about him, and it scared the shit out of you.

And while you wash your hands, you try and avoid the mirror, avoiding your eyes, because you know what they would convey, and you already felt cowardly enough. So, of course, when you walk back into the living room again, you take the long way, not daring to look at Harry. Then you take your spot back next to him without a word, feeling his eyes on you, your body tensing up, and as you stare at the screen waiting for him to unpause the movie, he doesn’t. That’s when you chance a glance over at him, his eyes roam over your face, and then he leans past you to turn on the lamp as you hold your breath, the scent of him lingering in your nose as he settles back onto the cushion, this time facing you, and you look over and try and give him a corky smile, but you know it looks strange because the muscles in your cheeks keep twitching.

God, this is embarrassing, you think, and Harry clears his throat, “Umm…is it cool if we clear the air?”

And without a word, you nod, forcing yourself to face him, sitting up straight because you got this, you can do this, get this part over.

“I guess I just wanted to be clear about…I guess my intentions…I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve dated anyone…and I guess I’m feeling a little rusty. If that makes sense?” He explains, making your heart pick up.

“Yeah…same,” you mutter, your throat tight, and you swallow down hard.

“I’m still trying to figure out how to navigate this all…you know, like…I don’t know. I really like you, and I was hoping we could like—”

“What? Have sex—?” You blurt, making him gasp out a laugh, and really, you just wanted to cut right to the chase and figure out what your next move needed to be.

He looks nervous, a funny smile spread across his face as he runs a hand up the back of his head, “I mean—” and he laughs, his nerves visibly getting the best of him, and this makes you smile because you definitely just jumped the gun.

“Is that what you’re wanting?” he asks, looking down at his hands, “I guess I’m trying to figure out what you’re looking for—” He starts

“To be completely transparent, I’m sort of looking for something a little more serious…I mean, sex is great, but—”

You jump in then, “No—yeah, the other…” you clear your throat, “Like something serious…I’m sorry, but you make me so fucking nervous…”

“Am I being too forward?” he asks, his brows furrowed.

And you laugh, “No, I just think I really like you, and it’s just…been a while, you know? It’s also been a while since I’ve dated anyone…or I guess…like had sex…”

“Mmmm…” he hums, and then he laughs, “Not to push the sex narrative, but it has been a while for me, as well….like maybe a year or so. I don’t know. I stopped keeping track. I’ve been really busy with work, and I wasn’t really looking for anything, and then I saw you at the concert…”

Your eyes search his face then, but you know he’s telling you the truth, “So…like, how serious are you thinking? Like someone to exclusively hook up with? Fit into your busy schedule? What are you looking for? I would rather be on the same page.”

“Like dating…like a girlfriend…like maybe this could be something that moves further…”

And for some reason, you narrow your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side, “With me?” you question.

Harry laughs again, “Well…yeah, you silly.”

Then you had to back up the conversation, “So the other night when you sent me that picture, it wasn’t for the sake of a hook-up?”

“I mean, I’m interested in hooking up, but it doesn’t have to be right now…I don’t know, I guess I just wanted you to know I was interested…” Then he laughs, his eyes shying away from you again, “Like I said, I’m rusty. Was that a weird thing to do? It’s been a while since I’ve done that…actually, I’ve only done that one other time…so—”

“I did ask for it…” you clarified, grabbing his attention.

“Yeah…I guess you did.” Then his eyes drop to your mouth.

And now you’re feeling bold, “I’m very interested…” and when your eyes dart away from his, you feel your face growing hot, laughing to yourself as you contemplate the conversation because you didn’t see it coming, but there was a piece of you that was glad it was happening, maybe even a piece of you realizing you may have a communication kink because you’re definitely getting turned on the clearer his intentions get and when he asks:

“What are you thinking?” That’s when you look over and smile, watching his smile spread across those perfect lips of his, and you bite down on your lower lip, deciding which dirty thought to divulge because there might be too many to choose just one.

Then you bite your lip harder, trying to suppress your smile, but it’s no use, and you say, “I mean…we can wait as long as you want to explore the physical side, but I’m down whenever you are…like so down…”

This cracks him up, “So, just like whenever?”

And you match his laughter, falling back against the couch pillows, “I might let you make me Ju—no—” and you can’t even say it with a straight face as you both burst into laughter, all the tension seeming to go with it, and it’s like the room is brighter, the air lighter around you as you suck in a hard breath, almost choking on your own laugh.

“I’m actually on birth control…so the Juno thing might be out the window,” you tell him, placing a hand on his knee. You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t even realize it. Then he’s resting his hand on yours, smiling over at you.

That’s when you feel the pad of his thumb moving back and forth over the top of your hand, and you look down, “Hypothetically speaking…” he says, squeezing your hand, and your heart leaps in your throat as you begin to grip his hand.

“If I were to ask you if you wanted to stay the night one day… would you be down with that?” Then he grips your hand back, and you loosen your hold, laughing because you keep giving yourself away.

“Honestly? You ask.

And he nods, that cute smile stretching, his dimples sinking into his cheeks, “Can we just like get the first hook-up out of the way…because if I wait any longer, I might psych myself out”

“Fuck…” he breathes, “Yes—I feel the same way…like right here? Or in my bed?” he forces, relief washing over his features, a new air of excitement filling the room.

“Oh…did you want to finish the movie?” he adds right before you tell him:

“Fuck no—” laughing as you squeeze his hand again.

“You look like someone who would have a comfortable bed…” you tell him, standing to your feet.

Harry rises with you, still holding your hand. “My rooms upstairs—” he says, his eyes flicking to the stairs through the archway.

“Okay…?” he questions, his eyes scanning your face for any hesitation.

“Yes—” you nod as he begins to pull you toward the stairs.

As soon as you reach the landing at the top of the stairs, he turns around, laughing, “Wait—you said I look like someone who has a comfortable bed?”

“Is that really what you’re thinking about…? You laugh.

He shrugs like he’s stalling, or maybe he’s nervous, “I mean… among other things…”

“Harry, are you nervous?” you ask, squeezing his hand again, and honestly, you’re hoping that he says yes because you’re not sure how this is going to go down, but you’ve been horny for him long before he sent you that photo, so you don’t really care about the details; you just want him inside you as soon as possible.

“Honestly…I don’t think I’ll last long. I just thought I would warn you…”

You smile then, lifting your hand to stroke his cheek, “Then we’re both in the same boat…we’ll just say the first time doesn’t count. Deal?”

“Deal, " he says, letting out a light laugh. You stand there, taking in his face. A boyish grin setting in, about to push you to the edge, and you practically leap to the tips of your toes, pushing your mouth to his.

At first, he’s stunned, but once you begin to move your mouth, he grabs hold of your face, taking a step back. When he takes another, you break the kiss, excitement coursing through you, and you peek over his shoulder, wondering which door leads to his bedroom. When he realizes what you’re doing, he grabs your hand and pulls you toward the end of the hall, pushes through the door, and it smacks against the wall as Harry tugs you through the doorway.

The first thing you do is grab hold of his shirt, his picture flashing across your vision. You have to see those tattoos in person, and when you begin to pull at the hem, he takes your cue and lifts it over his head. Now you’re the one who’s stunned as a whole series of tattoos come into view, halting you in place. Then your eyes are feasting over the plains of his body, the muscles, the random array of tattoos—since when did coffee shop owners look this fucking hot? Like, what did he do before this? But then you’re driving these thoughts away, your hands already moving over his skin—a palm brushing flat over the butterfly at the center of his chest, and it’s almost too much.

You drop to your knees, at eye level, with the leaves inked into his lower abdomen, and you lick your lips, grabbing hold of his waist, a light touch tracing along one side with the tips of your fingers. “Jesus,” you breathe as the leaves disappear into the band of his sweatpants. Before your eyes move any further, you gaze up at Harry. His eyes are trained on you, a lazy smile spreading on his face, and then he laughs.

“If you put those lips around my dick, I swear I’ll only last two seconds. Your touch has already got me so close…” He tells you, bending at the waist to lift your chin, and when he plants his lips to yours, you breathe him in, working yourself back to standing, your mouth never leaving his.

You pull away from the kiss, pressing your hand flat against his chest, needy, pushing him toward the bed, “I could probably get off just by looking at you…” and you both laugh at this, but you’re serious. Everything about him is working you up, and now you’re so turned on that you feel yourself opening for him, your pussy throbbing the entire time you bound up the stairs.

Harry stumbles back onto the bed, sitting at the edge, and brings you between his legs. When he gives your shirt a playful tug, you lift your arms, giving him permission, and he yanks it up, up, up until he’s standing, pulling until you feel the collar of your shirt wisp over the tips of your fingers, then he tosses it to the ground with a smirk on his face—your red lacy bra on full display in the low light of the moon, casting silver light through the window.

When he sits back down on the bed, he draws you toward him again, his hands on your waist, gripping the meat of flesh, a hunger rising up as he buries his face into the hallow between your breast, and when you run your hands through his hair, Harry lets out a soft groan, a puff of heat fanning over your skin, and you bring your face down to the crown of his head, breathing in the smell of his hair.

Harry’s hand moves from your waist to the clasp

of your bra, fidgetting with the hook as he nibbles the tip of your hard nipples through your bra; all you can do is watch, a chill running up your spine, a rush surging through you as soon as your bra comes off, and this is happening, this is real, and when Harry looks up and smiles at you, you need him inside of you—now, desperate for it, desperate for him.

You were ready, that consistent ache between your legs tugging at the pit of your stomach. You wanted him fast and deep; you wanted him to open you up, stretch you so that you would remember, a sore reminder later, a feeling that he was there—leave you reeling, craving more—crave him as you crave him now, like a sweet tooth, one bite never enough.

“Now—” you force, “Now—I need it now,” you tell him, your hands on his shoulder, moving down his chest as you’re pushing him back, and Harry laughs, his body following your command, the muscles in his stomach flexing and relaxing as he lays back on the bed. Then your eyes are drifting down, his grey sweatpants marking the outline of his dick, and it’s joy, pure joy, that giddy feeling tightening your chest, adrenaline shakey at the tips of your fingers as you reach for the elastic waist of his pants.

“I’m so fucking turned on—” he mutters, the words flying out of his mouth, your hands colliding as he helps you ease the pants down, his boxers coming with, catching on his thighs, his dick seconds away from springing free, and harry lifts his leg as you rip off his pants, tossing them across the room with such force, that you can’t help but laugh as Harry’s eyes follow, the pants knocking a picture off the wall, and the frame comes crashing down to the floor with a smash, the sounds of glass shattering fills the room, and Harry doesn’t even flinch because he’s grabbing your face before you can even see the damage.

Harry stands to his feet, one goal in mind, and that was to get you naked, “Still good?” he asks, but you’re too distracted, his rock-hard cock bobbing between the two of you, and when he laughs, it pulses a slight bounce, and it’s like striking gold, your eyes wide, lit with curiosity, every ounce of excitement you felt before hurrying to your needy hands as you reach for his penis, wrapping your hand around his girth, a gasp slipping past your lips as his warmth seeps into the palm of your hand.

The thought was enough before, but the feeling of him in your hand is even better, drawing that hungry to the surface, your mouth watering, and you swallow hard as you rip your eyes away from the dick filling your hand. When you meet Harry’s eyes, you both smile, sharing a knowing look as you nod your head, a late response bubbling up, and then you lick your lips, smoothing them together, contemplating whether or not you’re going to drop back down to your knees, and then you say, “I need you inside me—” gliding your hand down his shaft as Harry sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, the quick sensation of pleasure too much for you both, and he stops your hand mid stoke, his jaw clenching as he squeezes his eyes shut, and when his head falls back, lips parting—You’re losing it.

Without thought, your crawling back onto the bed, pulling at the waistband of your yoga pants, too fucking tight for this situation because it’s taking too long, every movement bringing awareness to your wet pussy, the cold air grazing over your newly exposed skin. Then Harry is helping you tear them past your ass, lifting your hips as his knuckles drag down your legs with the rough effort of ripping them past your ankles.

Never again, you think, never again will you waste time with such a useless fabric as you bring your hand between your thighs, smearing the wetness building within you up your slit, readying yourself. Watching Harry’s mouth gape open when you spread your legs, and god, you are so fucking wet, so fucking horny that you think you’ll explode, and as Harry strokes his dick, his hand moving up and down, you dip your fingers inside, slowly pushing them in, only enough to slick your entrance, then out, and in again, so smooth, open, begging to be filled, to be stretched.

When Harry presses a knee into the edge of the bed, you pull your wet fingers from inside you, making Harry smile. He drops his dick as he climbs onto the bed next to you, him watching as you suck your fingers into your mouth, eliciting a small moan from Harry as he grabs hold of your wrist, your fingers slipping out of your mouth with ease, then Harry is making them his the moment they enter his mouth, his tongue moving over your fingers, then you feel the suction, feel the vibration at the back of his throat when he groans, satisfaction loosening his tight-knit browns.

You can’t take it; that’s when you’re pulling your fingers from his mouth, pushing him back onto the bed, and claiming on top, one swift movement, “Is this okay?” you ask, the thought of asking barely at the forefront of your mind, and when he grabs your hips to line you up, lifting himself to adjusting you both, the answer is evident in the movements because he’s just as desperate, just as needy.

“Is this how you want it?” he asks, and you nod your head, feeling shy suddenly, heat creeping into your cheeks—the exchange of words slowing things down enough to put things into perspective in just a matter of seconds.

“This is good…” you answer, on the verge of second-guessing yourself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” you breathe, straightening your spine, your body relaxing slightly, nervous, but the look on Harry’s face is reassuring you, something telling you he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation.

“Will you tell me if you want to change positions if this is too much…” And he smiles then, a playful smirk as you lean forward, and you press your hand into the bed, next to his head. Your face inches from his.

You laugh then, “I want it to be too much…” you tell him, confident in the fact that no matter what position, it’s going to hurt, so why not have control? Besides, you wanted to watch him come undone, be the reason he’s calling your name.

“Dammit… you’re dangerous…” he laughs, his tone low, a silky rasp in your ear as you drop your mouth to his neck, pressing your lips to his soft skin, breathing him in as your free hand navigates his dick to your opening, the stretch imitate as his tip dips in, and your breath catching as you shove him inside you. Amazed by the force it takes just to inch him in the smallest amount as Harry exhales a heavy breath into your neck, and holy shit, your lack of sex is finally catching up, you think as you push yourself up, your face hovering over his.

“Fuck—” you breathe with a smile, trying not to laugh, and your eyes sweep over his face, your brain taking mental notes of every look of pleasure that has stolen Harry’s features, saving them for later.

“We can go slow?” he says, leaning up to grab hold of your face, a harsh breath leaving your mouth as he presses his lips to yours, his dick inching further in with every moment.

You pull away from the kiss, teetering on pain’s edge as you rest your forehead against his, “Just push into me…” you whisper, lifting your head to look him in the eyes.

“What?” He asks, confused, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

“Let’s just rip the bandaid off—” Then it’s happening. Harry gazes up at you; a moment of hesitation, then he grabs your hips and bucks himself deep inside you, the pain ricocheting through your teeth as you bit down hard, sealing your pained moan behind your lips, and you screw your eye shut, sinking your weight into your hips ceasing any further movement.

“…fuuuuuuuuuuck….” you whisper, your head spinning, dizzy with the thought of his cock buried inside you, like he’s splitting you open, carving out a space for himself. There was no going back after this because this is the kind of dick you dreamed of, the kind of dick you wanted to break you in, claim you, make you theirs, and even if there’s pain now, there’s bliss in the thought of knowing.

“Take your time…” he breaths his voice a strained whisper, and you can tell this is just as painful for him, but in a different way, your walls gripping him tight, and as you release a breath, the pain begins to ease with the thought of exploring the onset of pleasure gradually taking way, the exploitation a vice of its own, and it’s just enough.

And when you open your eyes, there he is, Harry, staring back at you, a look somewhere between concern and pleasure, because then you’re moving your hips, slow, getting used to the feeling of him inside you as Harry grips the meat of your hips, exhaling when you lean back down, to kiss his lips, a warm breath filling your mouth, and there’s the pleasure—you and Harry—chest to chest, two hearts beating as one—then he moving you guys along, planting his feet into the bed, and you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Harry lifts his hips, grabs hold of your ass, and pushes into you, easing apart your ass cheeks just enough to open you up more, dipping deeper this time, repeating the motion until you’re bouncing up and down in his dick, both of you pushing moans in out of one another mouth, each one louder than before, the sensation overwhelming every sense of your body. Every thrust drives deeper as you feel your body begins to succumb to the pressure building, a knot tightening in your lower belly, and it’s this, this is what you wanted.

All of it.

The sound of satisfaction echos around you, the squeak of the bed, the thud of the wooden headboard banging against the wall, both of your effort playing in tandem, the push and pull—a give and taking until the both of you are forming a rhythm, two bodies playing out like a fucking symphony, every moving part a perfect balance. Then you’re crying out his name, pushing up on his chest until your palms are flush with his dewy skin, and when you lock eyes with his, you nod your head, tilting your hips back and forth, your movements growing desperate, faster, and when you say:

“I’m close,” Harry leans up and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you down hard, the friction slowing, each moment deeper and deeper.

“How close are you?” He forces

“I’m close—don’t stop…” you plead.

“Fuck…” He breaths, thrusting hard, “So good—”

“Don’t stop—” you beg. “Don’t you dare fucking stop—”

“I’m so close—” he groans, and you slam your hips down, seconds away; just seconds, that’s all you need.

“I’m gunna come…” you force, stealing your orgasm as you grind your hips into his pelvis, your knees stretching as wide as they can, the position limiting, but it’s just enough, and when Harry drives into you again, yelling out your name, it seals your fate, your whole body buckling, and you collapse, your pussy gripping his dick tighter, seizing around the contour of his hard cock as Harry bursts inside you, his pulsing dick the perfect ending as you ride out our orgasm.

And then you’re both catching your breath. Your bodies pressed together, the thud of his heartbeat racing across your lips, your face buried in the crook of his neck now as you nibble a soft bite into the pulse beating under his skin. Harry lets out a breath laugh, cool air sweeping over your damp shoulder, and you don’t move, his dick still inside you, both of you unwilling to part.

When you lift your head, taking in the sweaty glow of his face, you sweep a stray curl from his forehead as a soft smile spreads, his dimple dipping. " Hi,” he whispers, his voice dripping like honey from his lip, and it’s so sweet, kindness emanating through every gentle touch, pouring out into the delicate kiss he plants on your lips as you bask in the afterglow of pleasure.

And it’s strange how quickly your mind just switched gears because now you want to beg for forever, have him hold you in his arms just like this, laugh, tell him he just marked his territory because there’s no going back, you think again, really meaning it, your mind in the dizzying aftermath of pure fucking bliss because now you want to make him fall in love, pray that this was a starting point, pick his brain, ask him what he’s thinking as your thoughts spiral.

All of this running through your mind as you deepen the kiss, Harry holding you tighter, then he breaks away, falling back onto the bed, his body relaxing as he crosses his arms behind his head, and then he smiles, face beaming, “Is it too early to think you may have just locked me down…hopefully you’re okay with that.”

And really, the joke is on him because he doesn’t even know the half of it, so when you send him that sweet little smile, all you can do is laugh, thinking if he only knew, but I guess we’ll find out.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you enjoyed!

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silksongeveryday · 2 days ago

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Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 731.

Well, after two long years of posting, I’m finally taking a break.

Thank you guys for everything for the past two years. It’s genuinely been so fun making daily doodles. But all good things must come to an end eventually. I’m tired.

What are the plans moving forward?

read below the cut if you’d like to know!!

Taking a break:

Life in general has been really rough lately. Tons of family drama, personal medical issues making it impossible to function some days, and my childhood dog recently passed away a few days after Christmas last year. So it was a real challenge to “keep up appearances” if you know what I mean.

I’ve said this plenty of times in the past already, however I’ll repeat it since there’s surprisingly a lot more new people that have followed since then. I’m taking a whole month off from posting entirely. So I won’t be active on Silksongeveryday until about March 14th. Why? Hopefully it’s obvious but posting daily content for two years straight really does something to you. I’ve grown tired of this blog just a little bit, and I feel stepping away from it for a month will help me reconnect. I still love the game and its community, and I’d hate for my disinterest in a single blog to ruin that. If a month long break could fix that then so be it.

I’m also taking a somewhat indefinite break from daily doodles. I WILL still be posting doodles occasionally every once in a while after I come back from my month long break. However I won’t be doing daily doodles.

So no daily doodles ever again?

There is only one condition that has to be met for me to return to daily doodles.

A Silksong release date is announced.

Which is…let’s face it, a release date might not happen any time soon. 6 years of near radio silence from TC? I’m not expecting much, especially not in a month.

But WHEN a release date is announced I’ll definitely return to daily doodles and do a sort of daily “countdown” until Silksong is officially out.

Will doodle requests still be open?

Yes! Even if I will no longer be doing daily posts I will still occasionally post every once in a while with doodles! So if there’s a specific doodle you’d like to request and you have an extra $1 hanging around, hornet doodle requests are open on my ko-fi!!

What about the current projects that were happening on Silksongeveryday?

I’m still working on them! Just as mentioned before, a lot of stuff happened irl so it’s kind of on the back burner.

For the Hornet Journal Series: I plan to post the remaining entries after I come back from my month long break. Whether I work on them during that month long break totally depends on how I’m feeling. But there may be a likely chance I work on a few here and there on my own time! But regardless, I do plan to finish this project. So no worries!

For Hornet’s Strange adventures: I know it’s been ages since this particular project finished on the blog. Development for the free game is slow going since I’m working on this project entirely by myself with a game engine I’ve never used before. Progress is being made but it’s unfortunately slow thanks for irl conflicts. But, just like the journal series, I do plan to finish this project so I promise it won’t be abandoned!! I just need a break first lol.

___________

I think that’s all I have to say?? But if anyone has any questions, asks are always open and I’m more than happy to answer just about anything!

Thanks again for the wonderful experience, it’s been an amazing journey with you guys <3

See you all in a month!!

#ssed #silksongeveryday #hollow knight #silksong #hk hornet #hollow knight hornet #silksong hornet #hollow knight fanart #hk fanart

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bookworrm1999 · 3 days ago

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A Mark Upon Thee…

18+, Caleb’s name tattooed on MC, first time, dry humping, thigh fucking, tattoos

Words: 2.5k

Caleb pounds you into the mattress because a tattoo of his name on you makes him crazy.

AO3

————————————————————————

Caleb had just brought you back to his home, your things on the floor.

You look around curiously but the house seemed so dull and lifeless.

As if no one lived here at all.

“Do you even live here?”

“I do sometimes, I’m usually on missions, keeping myself busy. Here, give me your hand.”

A bit confused, you give him your hand to hold. He turns you to the door, your back to his chest as he uses your fingertip to add it to the door’s lock.

His breath tickles your neck so you turn your head to look at him a bit.

You hear a sharp inhale from Caleb as he lets go of your hand suddenly.

He lifts a hand towards you neck and brushes some hair back into your bun, his fingertips lingering on the skin behind your left ear.

“What is this?”

Oh, he’s seen it now. After the explosion, you were devastated.

You missed Caleb so much that it was like you were missing a part of your body.

Losing him only made you realize your feelings too late.

As a reminder and a commemoration, you had his name tattooed in calligraphy behind your left ear.

Not many people saw it because your hair usually hid it, it was something usually only for you.

The man you had loved forever enshrined on your body, so that he’d still be with you even after death.

You reach up and lay your hand over his, covering the delicate letters that spelled out Caleb.

A true statement over the claim he had over you.

“I got it after I thought you had died.”

His grip tightens around your fingers still gently laid over your ear.

Heavy breaths made the hairs on your exposed neck stand straight up.

Sending shivers down your spine. He noticed.

Caleb stepped a bit closer, your back barely touching his chest.

The heat radiating from him, the closeness of your bodies, his trembling grasp of your fingers.

The air practically trembled from the energy in the room.

“Why?” He sounds absolutely wrecked, like he had been the one mourning your death all these months.

“I thought I had lost you. You were everything to me and then you were just gone.”

A tear slips from your eye and your chest heaves a bit from the heavy feeling in your heart.

“This was a way to keep you close to me still.”

Caleb lets your fingers go to trace the flowing text, his fingertip going further to glide down your neck.

A heat rose in you and you tried to turn to look at him. His hand stopped you around your waist, his eyes seemingly still drinking in the mark you had made for him.

“Caleb?”

“Do you have any idea what this does to me?”

Well you had an idea of what you’d like it to do to him but the hope of that was small inside you. He had always treated you as a friend but maybe he saw you differently now?

You turned your neck more to glance at his face. The sight of it, it nearly took your breath away.

His eyes dark, pupils dilated, lips pressed together in a thin line, a faint pink flush that traveled from his cheeks to his ears.

Maybe the idea wasn’t so preposterous after all. So you ask a bit slyly

“Oh, do you like it?”

“Like it?” He grunts, catching your eye, giving you a sly smile.

“Oh I more than like it.”

You decided to press him, make the first move in this stalemate. His hand was resting in the curve of your neck and shoulder. Bending your neck to the side a bit, still holding his gaze, you lightly kissed one of his fingers.

Caleb watched you with anticipation, his breath pluming over your exposed neck. Deciding to see how far you can go before he breaks, you reach down with your mouth open and take a finger inside.

His mouth falls open now, eyes going half lidded as he watches you savor his finger like it’s a delicacy.

A low moan escapes him, going straight to your core and igniting the flame.

You bite his finger lightly, swirling your tongue around it, tempting him with where else you could do this.

“Unnngh… haaa… mmm.” Breathy moans escaping his mouth set you on fire.

You arch your back a bit, rubbing your butt into him.

Smiling around his finger with triumph, you felt it, a hard curve nestled neatly into you.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

Caleb pushes you into the door, rock hard against you and lifting you to meet him.

Taking his hand away, he returns with his lips, hot and needy against your neck. Trailing open mouthed kisses up to where his name laid upon you.

Trailing his nose up behind the curve of your ear before making his way back down with a hot tongue.

Whimpering at the sensations he was stoking inside you, you ground back into him.

“Caleb please.”

“It’s too late now.”

“No I-“ you gasp as he lifts your hips and tilts them back so that his cock meets your soaked core. “I want this, I need you. Don’t leave me again.”

Caleb groans heavily, leaning against the door and bracing himself with both hands as he grinds into you.

“You don’t know the things you do to me- ugh! Gonna be so good to you baby just- hngh… such a good girl.”

The praise goes straight through you, you reach your hands up to slide over his. Using the additional leverage to continue to grind and soak through his uniform pants.

The white pants did nothing to hide his training cock nor the evidence of your need for him drenched into the fabric.

Every roll slipping against you, your dress that you were now wearing riding up at the hem as it made its way up, now exposing your underwear to him.

The sounds of your frantic embrace squishing, your whimpers, his low moans and the occasional low curse of “oh fuck” espcaping his lips.

The impending wave was cresting inside you as his cock started to slip and slide through the side of your underwear.

The feeling of his bare cock against your folds and teasing your clit sent you over the edge.

Keening, you froze before you started jerking back against him and legs trembling.

You started to slump a little before he picked you up by your thighs, holding them tightly together.

He started fucking your thighs, juices dribbling down your legs as you panted coming down from you high.

“I never thought that- ugh- that I’d ever be here. Wanted it so bad- guh!”

His thick cock head arousing you even now as it popped between your thighs.

Caleb groaned low in this throat, painting your thighs and the door with thick ropes of cum.

He carried you to the couch before his strength was spent, landing you in his lap as you both caught your breath.

“God I’m a mess now.”

Caleb laughed, resting his head against your shoulder.

“You think I’m any better?”

You hum, turning in his lap to face him properly. Holding his face between your hands, you gently caress him. His eyes closed in ecstasy from your touch.

“I love you.” Eyes snapping open to look at you with a reignited frenzy deep inside.

“You love me?”

“Of course I do, you dolt! Why do you think I got your name tattooed on me in the first place? I only realized it after losing you, just how much you meant to me.”

“I love you too.” You lean forward to kiss him gently, the calm after the storm.

But your confession had made him all the more hungry to hold you close.

Still kissing you, he lays you back on the couch. Caleb kisses his way down your neck, your breasts, your belly until he reaches your still wet pussy.

Inhaling like it’s an expensive perfume, he brings his face close and licks a stripe up your folds.

Cleaning your juices from your last orgasm.

Gasping from the overstimulation

“Wait! Not so rough, I’m still sensitive!”

“Good.”

He dives in like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Sweat starts to bead on his forehead so he expertly slips off his uniform jacket and unbuttons his shirt.

Leaving his magnificent chest on display for your eyes.

His tongue curls around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. His fingers reach up and delicately brush against you.

Experimentally sliding one finger in, it makes you groan and thrust his face.

A delighted look of bliss settles onto his face as he eats you with precision.

A thought crosses your mind that makes you jealous.

“Have you done this before? Ah!”

He pulls away a bit while still leisurely pumping two of his fingers now in and out of you.

“No, you’re my first everything. I’m just an expert on the subject of you.”

Caleb presses his fingers up into the top of your walls as if searching, ah there it was. He found your g-spot, making you whine and scramble as if you’re unsure to get away or move closer.

“Any other men I should keep an eye out for, squeaks?”

“N-no I’ve never done anything with anybody before. Haaa!”

This seems to delight him as he brings his face back to your clit. Sucking it in and out of his mouth gently while flicking it with his tongue.

He brings you to the brink, feeling the tightening of your walls, he stops.

You whine as he pulls his fingers out.

“What?”

Without a word, he carries you down the hallway to a room that seems a bit cozier than the rest of the empty house.

Plopping you down on the bed, he eyes you like you’re a piece of art displayed at a museum.

“Caleb? Why’d you stop?”

“I want to be inside you.” He goes to the closet and pulls out a box.

“I keep these in here just in case.” Caleb pulls out a condom and looks at you asking with his eyes.

“I want you inside me too. But… you don’t have to wear that.”

Glancing up at him through your eyelashes shyly, you hear his breath hitch in excitement.

“That seems like it could lead to danger.”

“Is it really dangerous if I’m with you though?”

He slips his pants and shirt off, hurrying over to you on the bed, almost tripping.

Cock straining up, an angry red and dripping with precum.

You lick your lips with anticipation.

“How do you want me?”

“On your belly. I want to see my name on you while I fuck you into the mattress.”

This idea excites you as you flip over. Curious how this position was going to work if you weren’t on your knees.

Caleb comes up behind you, hands on either side of you, trapping you in a cage made of him.

“Last chance to go.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?”

He leans down to your ear, the one with his name, and whispers

“I can handle anything if I have you.”

Caleb slides a hand under your stomach, lifting your waist so your your pussy was tilted up at him. Otherwise you were flat on the bed, your breath hot with excitement.

He grabbed his cock, pumping it a bit as he slides the tip around your folds.

“I’ll go slow at first, just tell me if it hurts.”

“No, don’t go slow, fill me up please.”

“Fuck.”

He slides in all the way to your cervix, only a slight pinch before all you feel is the pleasure of being full.

His balls laying heavily right up against your folds and the feeling of them laying on your thighs excites you.

Caleb breathes heavily, his chest pressing you into the mattress as he gets his bearings.

Whining, you push and grind up into him. The pressure and angle, pushing him into your g spot.

“Hold on, or this is will be much shorter than I want it to be.”

“I’d take it as a compliment.”

He snorts into your hair.

“I sure as hell won’t.”

Sliding back a bit before sheathing himself back into your walls, the sensation of him dragging inside you is so good.

It’s a delicate balance, keeping your back arched enough that he doesn’t pop out. But the position is so erotic, feeling him pressing down into you. Fucking you into the mattress, the sheets stimulating your clit but not quite enough.

Caleb’s balls hitting the meat of your thighs every time he thrusts himself into you roughly, god it makes you so feral.

“Let me bite your hand Caleb!” You whine out into the night air.

He stuffs it into your mouth, no questions asked as you bite down into the meat below his thumb.

“Fuck! If I knew it felt this good, I would’ve- ngh- tried to convince you sooner.”

“Would you have snuck in to my room in the middle of the night?”

The fantasy turning you both on as you both started to get close. His cock making a mess of your thighs as the mattress becomes soaked below you.

“God yes, fucking you like this but my hand keeping you from making any noise. So we wouldn’t get caught.”

The thought of getting caught turns you on a bit as you clench your walls around his girth.

He moans and tells you to touch yourself, he’s not gonna last long.

So you slide your hand under you to your clit, rubbing it a few times while feeling his balls slap against you is all it takes.

“Caleb!” You bite down hard on his hand and he jerks, your neck craning just enough for him to see his name on you once more.

Caleb explodes inside you, pumping his cum into you, not wanting to waste a drop.

A few more slow thrusts, pulling you to your sides, keeping you stuffed with his cock still.

Panting together a bit before laughing in delight. You still feel so delightfully full, you rub your stomach, you can feel him through it.

He shudders as he asks

“You good?”

“That was amazing.” You sigh and reach back with your head, searching for his lips. Caleb kisses you as if time has stopped for just the two of you.

He pulls away and noses his name behind your ear.

“I take it that this means you’ll stay.”

“Are you kidding? You’re never getting rid of me.”

#love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #lads caleb #lads #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #lads smut

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candycandy00 · 3 days ago

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General NSFW Headcanons for One Piece Men

These are just some general sex/intimacy based Headcanons for some of my favorite OP men. I left out Law and Kid until I see more of them post time skip.

Keep in mind these are just my personal opinions! These are all assuming a Fem Reader. Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Luffy:

I’ve noticed while rewatching/ catching up that this guy is a hugger. He’s not shy at all about giving out affection to people he cares about, and I think that would carry over to more intimate moments. He’d definitely be the type to snuggle up to you during sex, wanting to be as physically close as possible. He might even wrap his arms around you multiple times, not in a restraining way but in a “I just want to completely wrap myself around you” way.

Some people seem to think Luffy would be completely clueless about sex, but I disagree. I think it’s very likely that Ace explained a few things to him. They were at perfect ages (17 and 14) before Ace set out for a big brother to tell his younger brother about stuff like that. Even if Ace had no actual experience himself, he had to have heard a lot of talk from the bandits. So I think Luffy is aware of the basics at least, and his instincts would cover for whatever knowledge he lacks. He’s surprisingly perceptive at times.

Zoro:

Zoro is the one who would be clueless. Not about the mechanics of sex, but about what you want. This man would miss every signal you send his way, so you’d have to literally state outright that you want to have sex with him. During the act, you’d have to be very clear about what you want him to do, at least the first few times. You’re better off just taking his hands or head and putting them where you want because this guy can’t follow directions to save his life.

Once the two of you have had sex a few times and he’s learned what you like, he would be a great lover. Zoro puts his all into everything he does, and that includes pleasing his darling. One of his best points is his stamina. He could go for multiple rounds without breaking a sweat, so prepare for long nights.

Sanji:

He’s all about his darling’s pleasure. He’d get much more satisfaction from watching you cum than from cumming himself. He would have a massive praise kink, both giving and receiving. He’d also be clingy and want to be intimate in some way with you nearly all the time (though he’d be happy with just cuddling, giving massages, etc. if you’re too tired for sex sometimes). He’d definitely prioritize your needs and wants over his own, mostly because making you happy is what he needs and wants.

I think he’s definitely a virgin, and he’s the type who will fall madly in love with the first woman who sleeps with him. Once he’s in love and in a committed relationship, he’s not going to be chasing other women. He’ll still notice a beautiful lady, but he won’t comment on them or visibly react, because he doesn’t want to upset his darling or make her feel insecure.

Usopp:

This guy right here? He’s the one to keep your eye on. Because once he actually gets some experience, he’ll be one of the best lovers in the series. The first time he’s gonna be nervous and awkward, probably boasting that he’s had a thousand lovers whom he satisfied completely (while nearly fainting from nerves). But once he gets over those initial nerves, he’s gonna lock in on learning all the best techniques. When Usopp gets serious about something, he studies and practices until he’s great at it.

I also have a headcanon that he’s got a huge dick (I mean, look at that nose) and just doesn’t know how to use it yet. Emphasis on yet. Give him some time and he’ll rock your world.

Franky:

The best thing about Franky as a lover is that he’s completely nonjudgmental. Have a wild kink you wanna try? He’s shrugging and saying sure, let’s go for it. Insecure about a part of your body? He’s showing you some crazy modification he’s made to his own just to prove all bodies are unique and wonderful. You’re never gonna feel shamed over anything with Franky, and that’s so freeing. The next best thing is that this guy will come equipped with all sorts of toys and gadgets to spice up the sex. If he doesn’t have what you want, he can just construct it on the fly.

It’s hard for me to decide whether I think he��s had a lot of experience or not. I’m guessing he’s had some given his age, background, and being a self professed pervert. He seems like he would be a sex positive person, or maybe just see it as no big deal. Just another way to express affection. I think he’s pretty chill about sex, basically.

Brook:

Okay, so Brook is pretty limited by the fact that he’s a skeleton and has no dick or tongue to work with. But he does have those long pianist’s fingers, and he’d certainly be happy to use them to please his darling. As we all know, he also has a panty fetish, so the easiest way to get him riled up would be to model the cute new sets you bought. He’s still a gentleman though, so he treats his darling with care and respect, always asking for permission before touching you and making you feel valued.

He probably had a decent amount of experience when he was alive, but he’s very new to being intimate as a skeleton. There would be some trial and error and he might get a little depressed about his limitations, but I think he’d get over it fairly quickly and just be happy to have someone special in his, uh, life.

Ace:

In my opinion, Ace would be very warm and loving in bed. Very passionate. Like his brother, he’d be very affectionate with his darling. This is a man who places a ton of value on bonds, on loving and being loved. He’s definitely going to show how much he loves you, in the most intimate way possible. Think lots of eye contact, physical closeness, slow and very deep fucking. I don’t think he’d be the super romantic type to leave a trail of rose petals to the bed or whatever, but once the two of you are in bed he’s giving you his undivided attention and just enjoying the feeling of being inside you. Also kinda think he’d have a bit of a breeding kink.

I think it’s highly likely he’s had some experience. He’s a handsome, likable guy who traveled around a lot by himself. Judging by how he blushed around Makino, it’s a safe bet he likes ladies. Specifically, pretty ladies who show him kindness. I don’t think he’d be shy or awkward but I can’t really see him acting like some arrogant sex god either.

Shanks:

Get ready for some sloppy drunken sex. I’m talking making out as you both make your way to the bed, tripping on stuff along the way and giggling like teenagers. You might not remember everything that happened, but you know it was fun! I somehow can’t picture Shanks settling down in a committed relationship but he would agree to being exclusive with you. So you guys wouldn’t be a couple but anytime he’s drunk and horny you’re the one he goes to. And if you’re in his crew, you’re probably half drunk yourself. But you guys have an agreement, so consent was already given. Shanks would give you a great time and be charming and funny, but he’s gone by the time you wake up.

He’s definitely had an active sex life. He’s too charming not to. Too well traveled and handsome. And while some of his past lovers miss him, none of them regret their time with him and look back on it fondly.

Buggy:

Similar to Usopp, Buggy would be full of false bravado at first. But when it comes time to do the deed, he’s strangely shy. Buggy isn’t used to being loved and cherished. He hasn’t had that since he was a kid, so he’s going to need a lot of reassuring. You’d have to stroke his ego a bit to get him in the right headspace to have sex. But once you do, he’ll be a surprisingly sweet and giving lover. He’ll want to be a dom, but will usually end up being a bit subby to you. He’d probably become very emotionally attached to you if you give him a blowjob. Giving him any sort of kindness or genuine love will make him fall head over heels.

I’m torn between thinking Buggy is still a virgin and thinking he had some experience in his younger, wilder days. He doesn’t strike me as the type to have a lot of one night stands, but he could have had a relationship at some point that we just don’t know about.

Crocodile:

A lot of people want to see him as a brat tamer, and I see the appeal, but in my opinion he’d prefer a mature relationship. I think he’d want someone classy that would match his vibe. So he’s going to keep his darling dressed up in the finest clothes and jewelry. I have a headcanon that he’s a sucker for fancy lingerie. He loves buying it for you, seeing you wear it, and especially taking it off you, slowly, piece by piece. I also think he’d be into some light bondage. Nothing too elaborate, just tying your wrists together with his belt occasionally.

For Crocodile, the most intimate act would be showering together. Because of his weakness to water, he’s incredibly vulnerable while showering, so he’s only going to invite you to join him if he trusts you completely. Doesn’t get more intimate than that.

Rob Lucci:

He’s going to be a very stoic lover, not very verbal at all in the heat of the moment, but his body will tell you all you need to know. He would be very primal, hands on your throat, taking you from behind, growling in your ear. But at the same time, he’s making sure you’re totally satisfied. Don’t expect an actual relationship with this man. He’ll rearrange your guts and then disappear before you can roll over. But he keeps coming back to you. He might even develop a soft spot for you, so long as you respect his privacy and don’t ask for a commitment.

The bird stays in the room, but give it some crackers as a distraction and it won’t stare the whole time.

#luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #franky x reader #brook x reader #ace x reader #shanks x reader #buggy x reader #crocodile x reader #lucci x reader #one piece x reader #x reader

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w2soneshots · 2 days ago

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Valentine -W2S

words: 1.0k+

warnings: none, just fluff!

summary: you and Harry spend a wholesome valentines day together.

notes: hello my loves! I’m single af so here’s a cute little fic I wrote with my fav British boy to make me feel better😌🫶🏼. Enjoy!!✨

Liked by wroetoshaw, taliamar and others

y/username: happy Valentine's Day💌

-comments-

wroetoshaw: sneaky

-> y/username: took my chance while you were distracted by the sweets🤗

faithloisak: gorgeous as always

-> y/username: I 💗 U

y/nfanpage21: balloons AND flowers! my girls living the dream🥹🤍

user: ugh, they're disgustingly cute

I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was red heart shaped balloons. I looked around for Harry but he was nowhere to be found. I was extremely confused for a second before I remembered that it was valentine's day.

Just a few minutes later Harry walked into our bedroom holding a tray. "Good morning love," he greeted with a bright smile before placing it in my lap. The tray had pancakes covered in fresh fruit, a coffee and a card tucked into the side.

I looked up at him. "Thank you. Happy valentines day baby." Harry smiled then leaned down and we shared a quick kiss.

After eating the food, which was delicious, I opened the card. On the front it read, "you're a bit of a twat, but you're my twat." with read hearts surrounding the letters. "Very funny," I mumbled through laughter.

Inside the card was a different story. He wrote, "to y/n. I love you so much I don't think I could live without you (so you better not leave me!)," I giggled as he sat patiently waiting for me to read. I continued, "we have a special dinner at 7 so be ready to get your hands dirty. Love Harry."

"That was so sweet." I set the card on my nightstand and moved over to hug him. "Okay, wait there. Lemme go get your card from me!" I called as I cheerfully made my way into our wardrobe where I'd hidden everything.

I returned just a minute later with a gift bag. "Ooo, what's this...?" Harry inquired as I plonked myself down next to him and passed him the bag. "Open it and see!"

Harry was quick to fling the tissue paper across the room and look inside. "Ah! This is sick!" He looked at me with the cutest and brightest smile. He pulled out the special addition supreme jumper that he's had his eye on.

It wasn't super cute or wholesome like most valentines gifts but he's impossible to buy for so I didn't have many options.

"How the fuck did you manage to get this?" He asked, "it's been sold out everywhere!" I chuckled as he admired it. "I have my ways..."

A few hours later we decided it'd be fun to go and see the movie we've been wanting to watch in the cinema. We both got dressed into some comfy clothes and headed out.

On our way we stopped off at a shop to get some snacks since they're always extremely overpriced in the cinema and Harry loves a bargain. "Which one do you want? Actually... I'll just get all of 'em," he said as he looked at the selection of sweets. I giggled when he stood up with an excessive amount of them in the basket.

After watching the movie we stopped off for some lunch and then spontaneously decided to go bowling since we walked past the place on our way home.

wroetoshaw posted a new story!

"Beat ya!" I smiled when the final scores registered on the board. "By like... two points," Harry huffed. "Don't be a sore loser baby," I teased with a smirk then leaned into him to press a kiss to his lips. "Alright alright," he chuckled, "let's go home."

We walked back to our apartment building, hand in hand. The sun was setting and the air was surprisingly warm for February, in London. I breathed out a content sigh and leaned my head on his shoulder when we finally got into the lift.

"Hungry?" Harry asked me a little while later, while we sat on our couch with a random show playing on the tv, that we definitely weren't paying attention to.

"Mhm," I hummed. He jumped up. "Well, we're makin' pizza!" he said excitedly, "you coming petal?" I cocked my head to the side in surprise. "Oh, Haz. How romantic," I replied with a smile and followed him into the kitchen.

He took his time making the dough while I prepared the sauce and grated the cheese. Just as I was pouring the sauce into a pot I felt a puff of flour cover my shirt.

"Ah! Absolutely not!" I giggled before quickly gathering some in the palm of my hand and blowing it straight into his face. He coughed out a laugh. "Jesus Christ woman!"

He rolled out his pizza into a misshapen circle while I made mine into a cute little heart. We then covered it in tomato sauce, sprinkled on the cheese and added any last toppings.

y/username posted a new story!

After popping our masterpieces into the oven we sat back on the sofa with our drinks of choice and waited patiently for them to finish cooking.

"Mmm... this was one of the best ideas you've ever had," I murmured happily with a mouth full of pizza. "I know. I'm a genius, what can I say." I shook my head as I giggled at his sarcastic cockiness.

"You ready for bed love?" He asked as I yawned. I nodded slowly. I closed my eyes for just a second and before I could even process what was happening I was being lifted into the air, fireman style.

I leaned into my boyfriend's chest and exhaled deeply. He set me down on our bed gently. "I'm just gonna go take a shower. I'll be back in a minute to get into bed with you. Good night, I love you and happy Valentine's Day," he whispered with a kiss to my forehead before I drifted off with a soft smile on my lips.

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wonysugar · 17 hours ago

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g!p sugar mommy giselle🫦🫦🫦

g!p.... sugar mommy...... giselle..... ANON. holds you by the neck dearly thank you for this. also! it’s barely even mentioned at all but just know giselle is like 37ish and reader is in her mid-twenties. :]

cw : age-gap!

giselle as the sugar mommy you randomly met on your day to day minimum wage job at a fast food place MHMMM LET ME COOKKK..... having her be a regular who always comes in like once a week, always wearing something super fancy.. like a black prada trenchcoat or sometimes even a dolce & gabbana blazer. point is, she immediately stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the crowd.

plus, you found her undeniably gorgeous as soon as you laid eyes on her, so it's not like she'd go unnoticed otherwise, either.

she often approached you at the register and made small talk, as stupid as it often was. she'd find some stupid excuse not to use the self checkout machine and would find a lame conversation starter while you're watching her pull out a dior purse, proceeding with the payment of her order. that often lead to you asking her questions of your own.

"why do you eat here? you look like you have other.... better places to be eating at."

she'd chuckle at your words, finding them amusing, before answering in a gentle tone, "trust me, i do. my niece doesn't seem to think the same way i do, however, as she seems to really like this place. i appear to be the only one indulging her."

soon enough, you'd warm up to her with each visit of hers and the conversations would get much, much longer. so much so that, often times, your manager would have to step in and remind you to get back to work prompty. it got annoying quickly, as the conversations were just getting good; chatting about studies, travel plans, ambitions and goals, etc.

so, wanting to have these incredibly interesting exchanges in a more comfortable and relaxed setting, aeri asked for your number.

naturally.

who cares that she was like, ten years older than you. it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend… right?

numerous nights of friendly-texting-turned-flirty later, you two quickly agreed on a set date and location, which turned out to be a friday evening spent in the very expensive restaurant right across the block from your workplace. it was a date! she informed you to come in 'appropriate' attire, whatever that meant. how would you know? your closet consisted of hoodies, sweaters and some t-shirts as well as your work uniform. that being said, you showed up to the date wearing a low cute dark blue dress you found laying around in the darkest depths of your drawer for probably more than seven years. saying you were nervous would be nothing but a huge understatement.

she, on the other hand, came wearing a creamy white turtleneck under the black trench-coat she was usually seen wearing when ordering food at your job, the look topped off by wide legged black pants and really expensive looking black leather heels.

what the fuck are you doing.

getting cold feet, you nervously sat down at the table and bowed your head in her direction. intimidated by the light yet impacting amount of makeup she had on her face, you avoided eye contact as much as possible. she was breathtaking.

she told you to choose whatever you’d like on the menu and to not look at the price, as she insisted you not to worry at all about the bill. you, of course, felt guilty so you proceeded to pick the least expensive thing on the menu and attempted to convince her that you genuinely loved the dish, hence why you’d pick it among everything else.

who were you kidding though, you couldn’t even pronounce whatever fuckass french name it was that you picked to the waiter. she smiled at you as you finished ordering, making you turn red in embarrassment.

“you know y/n, i couldn’t bring myself to mention it in a place as unflattering as your workplace, no offence,” she started as you shook off the statement, practically agreeing with her before she continued, “but i must say that i think you are absolutely adorable.”

it gets to a point. and at this point you’re just short-circuiting at her words and intense eye contact, finding it difficult to even act properly in front of her!

she noticed that, of course, especially in times during the conversation where she called you endearing names such as “darling”, “love” and “honey”.

that wasn’t much different in bed, either.

as it turns out, you really did want her to fuck you at the end of the night! honestly, how could you not when she’d been opening every single door for you, insisting on paying for the entirety of the bill at the restaurant and offering to drive you home despite it only being a 10 minute walk?

she’d done nothing but drive you crazy all evening with her sexy and gentle manners, it’s only natural you gave her a sloppy handjob whilst she drove her grey lexus lx back to her own house with the pure intention of fucking the shit out of you.

…and she did! very well, at that!

two of her fingers deep into you, she circled your clit with her thumb and left gentle kisses on your jaw down to your collarbone. slow and steady pumps of the digits, she thrived in hearing your soft whimpers.

that didn’t last long, however. she was getting impatient, and her dick was aching to feel you.

ass up face down, you’re getting pounded relentlessly into the mattress before you know it. getting treated like nothing but a queen all night only to be later fucked like a depraved slut… it had to be the best thing you’d ever felt in a while. of course, you let her know of that with guttural moans that left your body with each thrust of her cock. she didn’t care, her house was big enough to muffle your screams, after all.

she whispered obscenities into your ear whilst you did so, gripping a fistful of your hair and humming at each sound that came out of your mouth. talking about how tight your cunt was for her, about how good it felt, how she couldn’t wait to use it every other day, about how she would kill to take care of a pretty little thing like you.

gripping onto your sides and ramming into you shamelessly as she drove you to your climax, you bit your lip until you felt like it was bleeding. her breathier heavier and each of her moans slightly higher than the previous, you both orgasmed together, a wave of euphoria washing over the two of you immediately.

oh and, you know what she said about ‘taking care of a pretty little thing like you?’ yeah, she meant every word.

soon enough, she’s taking you on dates every other weekend, referring you to a slightly better paying, less agonizing job thanks to the connections she possesses, sending you excessive amounts of money she labels as your ‘monthly allowance’ and overall spoiling you with whatever your heart desires. hell. she even payed your university tuition! she finds it endearing to see you always so shy and embarrassed to accept the money she gives you; you always go on about how ‘you don’t give her anything back’ and how it isn’t fair.

but to her, you do give back. your happiness and joy is what aeri does it for, and you give her great amounts of that. not only that, but you also give back by whoring yourself out and looking pretty for her. giving her unwarranted boners by sending her risky pictures and videos while she’s at work, having you wear the lingerie she buys you, knowing you use the toys she got you whenever she’s too busy to take care of you, etc. aeri could name nothing better than having you be the beautiful doll she gets to play with every now and then. :]

#anon asks #anon #smut #kpop gg #female reader #aespa smut #giselle hard thoughts #aespa giselle smut #aeri uchinaga smut #aeri uchinaga #uchinaga aeri x reader #aespa giselle x reader #giselle x fem reader #giselle smut #giselle aespa smut #giselle thoughts

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ginggain · 9 hours ago

Note

What sport did you used to play? Also, what made you finally give in and eat yourself into a lardass

So I played baseball, football, and hockey! I also tried just about everything growing up from running to soccer to basketball. I would always run and I was a very fast runner, and decent at most sports too but I was always the tall skinny kid, so after high school into college I decided to put on more weight (first pic is start of college second is end) so I put on about 15-20 pounds after high school, mostly muscle and I loved it, I loved feeling bigger and more dominant, I loved being hungrier and being able to eat more, and at this point I had already been exposed to feederism but I never considered it for myself. One night in college I decided to just go get a bunch of food and eat until I couldn’t anymore… then my greatest orgasm ever happened lmaoooo… it felt so different and so good, I pictured myself growing larger and larger and feeling so much better the heavier I got. I didn’t really try to stuff too much after then, just making sure to eat consistent, I didn’t know if it was what I wanted yet in life but it was definitely there.

So then on and off for about two years after that I bounced from living in my college town to living back home to eventually finding my own place. I stuck around 160 for a lot of that time in there, would work on the road and lose 10 pounds here sometimes more, so I could never consistently hit the gym or consistently stuff and eat. Then about a year ago I slowly slipped back in, I started stuffing again, I started spending days at a time just eating and growing. I loved the feeling and I loved how greedy I was and felt. Over time I became a lot bigger in the community and a lot bigger person lmao. From august of ‘24 till now I have put on around 30 pounds and I have loved how fast it has piled on and I have never felt better about my body. The itch to keep growing and to see just how fat you can be never goes away, you forget about it and it grows and grows in your mind until you turn right back to it :) I fully have plans on this being my life now. I’m ready to give it all up, I’ve had my fun in my past smaller body, done everything I could really do with it and I’ve just always wanted to experience a whole different lifestyle of being big and every move revolves around food. I so badly yearn to be that biggest person in the room at any time, just eyes drawing towards you wondering how a person could possibly become that big. Not knowing my whole past life of being fit and healthy. Plus I know a lot of you find it quite hot how a person decides to make drastic changes that effects every part of their life :)) hope you all enjoyed reading!!

P.s what I mean by being unrecognizable is like to compleeeeetly change forms, so that my arms don’t even look the same, so that so much fat grows on my neck and face it makes it not even look like who I used to be, just someone drowning in their own lard, knowing they did it to themselves and knowing they are too physically big to turn it around. That’s unrecognizable.

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glassrowboat · 2 days ago

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Letters For You

Valentine’s Day letters from Anaxa, Aventurine, Gallagher, Jing Yuan, Phainon, Ratio, Reca, Sampo, Sunday

Wrote these for my online friends, so I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s. Love you all, xoxo

Anaxa

My fellow scholar,

I won't lie and pretend as if I wouldn't rather be spending my time doing something actually worthwhile like studying, but whenever I finally bring myself to put pen to paper in my hectic schedule I find myself unable to use my quill for its intended purpose. I bought it for note taking and truly wished to use it for that purpose, only for me to find myself unable to focus on the words before me as I am stuck thinking of you.

You see, these were originally meant to be notes, so excuse the scribbling at the top. It's all mindless drivel and half-baked theories I'm certain you're already planning to jump at. Your curious mind never rests, just like mine. Which is why I'm so loath to admit that even us scholars need a break.

With that in mind, I ask that you find me at our usual spot to enjoy the current festivities. I'm sure once we're done, it will leave us both refreshed and ready to return to work.

In best regards,

Anaxagoras

Aventurine

Dearest friend,

I already know what you're going to say about the gifts I have left for you. “It's too much or you should save your money on something else, Aven.” To the point I can almost hear the words ringing in my ear in that scolding tone of yours. It's just as bad as the higher ups scolding me for breaking the cornerstone and yet I can't help but want to spoil you.

But I'll be nice. Just this once.

Instead of dinner at another fancy restaurant you'll roll your eyes at, let's just get takeout from your favorite place and we can play dress up with all the clothes I got us. And yes some are for me, too. I'm sure if you dig around a bit you'll find a particular lacy item you and I can both agree has its merits.

Until tonight,

Aventurine

P.S. No overtime. I promise.

Gallagher

Babe,

I'm sure you've already figured out the bag of candy is for you. I even wrapped it up with a neat bow and everything for ya, so I hope you like it. If you want, we can even try making a drink out of a few of them like we did with the cotton candy vodka. Remember that? It was interesting, that's for sure.

We can even have what's left after dinner tonight. I'm cooking. Just for you, too. I was thinking of Clockie Pizza with all those toppings you like, and we could have it at the lounge? I'm sure Dreamjolt Hostelry will have open seats even on Valentine’s Day, knowing how dead the place usually is. I'll even dress up if you want me to. Though it might just be best to put myself in your or Sioban care to choose an outfit. Either way, I'm trusting you here, so don't let me down.

Your man,

Gallagher

Jing Yuan

My darling,

It's a beautiful day out, don't you think? The sky is clear and bright blue, the wind is just right, and the sun as artificial as it might be is perfect for dozing under its shining rays. I even found a record to play a song I remember from days long past. The only thing missing on this perfect day is you. And my work to be done, too.

I take it you're wrapped in endless stacks of paperwork just as I am, aren't you? Even after all the time, they managed to keep you this week. I'm merely lucky I'll have you all to myself once the day ends. The weekend will be ours to enjoy the garden, eat good food, play with our adorable little lion, and each other.

While we may not get Valentine’s Day together between your work and mine, I am happy to make sure we still get to enjoy being together. Besides, choosing only one day to love you when I would rather do so every day for every year you're willing to share with me is far more appealing than showing you appreciation only on special occasions.

Yours,

Jing Yuan

Phainon

My favorite shopkeeper,

Time really does flash by in an instant, huh? It feels like only yesterday that I came to The Holy City with the weight of the prophecy, both bearing a heavy weight on and lifting my shoulders all at once. Back then, I was ready to face the world as a Chrysos Heir alongside the others of golden blood without daring to think anything could stop me. I was going to be the one who takes Nikador's Coreflame, and I'll be the demigod of Strife. It will be a title I wear with honor.

And that is still my intention, mind you, but I've found something else that fills me with just as much conviction as being a hero to the masses. Do I even have to say what it is? It's you.

Ever since we first ran into each other at your shop and you were giving me a side eye (yes, I saw that) at all the questions I was asking about your collection of antiques I knew I would be willing to take a moment to step away from the duty I have sworn to uphold to simply be with you.

So I guess what I'm asking is: will you be my valentine?

Your hero,

Phainon

Ratio

My dear,

Today has already been full of one headache after the next from students deeming fit to load my desk with gifts to dealing with Aventurine texting me about how many roses is “too much.” At this point, all I want to do is go home and fall into your embrace.

Still, I have tests to grade. And from what I've seen of them, it's looking like some of them have finally learned how to pick up a thing or two after I started to use the method you suggested last time. As loath as I am to admit, I never would have thought to have my student role play as great mathematicians from the past to keep them engaged. It worked.

You truly astound me. Always finding new ways to show that creative thinking plays a part in being knowledgeable as well. You put the term genius to shame, my dear.

Sincerely,

Veritas Ratio

Reca

My love interest,

I have met countless actresses and actors who have been praised as if they were Aeons themselves. Looks, skills, the way the camera is naturally drawn to them, why you could name it all! Yet they all pale in comparison to you, my snookums.

No shot is truly complete without your radiance, without your smile, or without just the thought of you lingering in the back of my mind and changing how I see each scene laid out before me. You have changed how I view romance, entirely flipping the genre on its head for me to make something entirely new and unique. You inspired me in a way I never would have thought possible despite all the stories of star-crossed lovers I know. You have simply made me, for lack of a better word, more.

The only thing I could possibly regret about you is not meeting you sooner.

So allow me to make up for all the time we have had apart, my honey bee, by coming to a play with me as my valentine.

Your charming director,

Reca

P.S. I have entrusted the Assistant Director to be in your care today while I am away. She shall take care of you in my stead while I am away, my valentine.

Sampo

Boss,

It's me, your good old buddy, your pal, your bestest guy, Sampo! Now, now, before you go and throw this letter in the trash or worse yet, set my poor heartfelt words on fire, hear me out. I only have the purest intentions for you today, and that is on my honest word as a businessman.

It is Valentine’s Day, after all, and I can't have such a profitable holiday be soured for my favorite customer. That would just hurt my coin purse. So to ensure that doesn't come to pass, I took it upon myself to give you a gift as a show of gratitude for all you've done for me these past few years.

I'm sure you've noticed them by now.

Now, I hope you like the roses I left for you. They have a bit of an extra boom to them if you know what I mean. Just not the bomb kind. Though you do always manage to blow my heart away so who knows, maybe it is.

Your number one guy,

Sampo

P.S. Okay you can light the letter on fire now just know that if you do I'll be left with nothing to do but drink at the bar until I'm crying my eyes out all by my lonesome. Orrrrr…you could join me. I would never complain about getting some time in your delightful company.

Sunday

My dove,

This is my first Valentine’s Day away from Penacony, let alone on the Astral Express with a lover I can call my own.

I find myself still adjusting to the sudden change. There's no one watching my every move and expecting utter perfection from me now but me. I still find myself checking my clothes, assuring my feathers are neat, and shining my halo to the point that it shines in the light of the stars surrounding us. They remind me of just how vast this galaxy truly is. How my past choices were a flicker of a flame to everyone else, but to me, it was my last ditch effort at saving a dying light.

Everything is different now.

I find myself mourning.

Only for you to walk in the room and wash each thought away like the oncoming tide to a cluttered shore just with your gaze and a twitch of your lips. It's like I'm hit with a revelation again: that things do in fact get better.

So please, keep smiling as you always do, my valentine.

All the best,

Sunday

#x reader #hsr x reader #anaxa #aventurine #Gallagher #jing yuan #phainon #ratio #veritas ratio #reca #sampo #sunday #gn reader #dividers by enchanthing-a

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lila-lou · 11 hours ago

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✨His true fate - Part 38/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, ANGST

Word Count: 10996

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The silence that followed was deafening. Jensen froze, his body stiffening like a live wire had run through him. His hands, which had been cupping yours moments ago, fell away abruptly as he leaned back, staring at you in disbelief.

“Come again?”, he asked, his voice colder than you’d ever heard it. The warmth and vulnerability from just moments ago evaporated, replaced by something icy and sharp. “You think you’re what?”.

“Pregnant”, you said again, this time slightly louder, though your voice still wavered. You finally forced yourself to look up at him, but the expression on his face made your heart sink.

Jensen’s jaw clenched, and his hands gripped the edge of your chair tightly as he stared at you like he was trying to decipher a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. “You know I got a vasectomy years ago”, he said, his voice low and steady, but there was an undercurrent of something dangerous beneath it. “So how the fuck is that possible?”.

The implication hit you like a punch to the gut, and your chest tightened as tears welled in your eyes. “Jensen, I didn’t—”.

“You didn’t what?”, he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “Cheat on me? Because that’s the only fucking explanation, right? If fucking you’re pregnant, it sure as hell isn’t mine”.

Jensen’s ears drummed loudly, his heartbeat quickening as his chest heaved with anger. His neck flushed a deep red, the tension in his body building like a storm ready to break. He shot up from the couch, pacing a few steps before whirling around to face you, his voice rising.

“How the hell do you even have the fucking nerve?”, he shouted, his words sharp and cutting. “You made me the bad guy for days—left me hanging, thinking I was the one screwing fucking everything up, destroying this fucking relationship! And now you sit here, dropping this bomb on me? Admitting that you—”. His voice cracked as he threw his hands up, unable to finish the thought, his face a mask of betrayal. “Telling me you’re fucking pregnant?”.

Your mouth opened to protest, but no words came. The sheer intensity of his anger left you frozen, your heart pounding as his accusations cut deeper than anything you’d imagined.

“I’ve been killing myself trying to fucking fix this, to show you I’m here, that I fucking love you!”, he continued, his voice shaking with raw emotion. “And now this? The only way this happens is if you—if you cheated on me!”.

Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t cheat on you, Jensen. I swear I didn’t. I don’t even know how—”.

“Then explain it!”, he interrupted, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. “Explain to me how the hell you’re pregnant when it’s not fucking possible!". He stopped, his breath hitching, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he struggled to control himself.

You stood, your legs trembling as you faced him. “I don’t know!”, you cried, your voice breaking. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’m telling you the truth! I haven’t been with anyone else. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t!”.

Jensen let out a harsh laugh, his hand raking through his hair as he turned away from you, his shoulders tense. “Do you even fucking hear yourself?”, he muttered, his tone bitter. “You’re asking me to believe something impossible, something that doesn’t make any fucking sense”.

Jensen’s anger only seemed to grow, his voice getting louder as he threw his arms out in frustration. “The tables have fucking turned, haven’t they?”, he snapped, his tone dripping with irony. “I spent days begging you to believe me, to trust me. And now you’re the one standing there, asking me to take your word for something that doesn’t fucking add up!”.

His words hit like a slap, and your stomach churned with a mixture of hurt and frustration. “It’s not the same”, you said weakly, your voice trembling. “I didn’t cheat on you, Jensen. I wouldn’t. You have to know that”.

“Oh, do I?”, he fired back, his green eyes blazing with emotion as he took a step closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks an awful lot like you’re asking me to ignore the facts and just blindly believe you. How is that fair? How is that any different from what you did to me?”.

Tears streamed freely down your face now, your chest tightening as the reality of his doubt hit you harder than any of his words. “I know it sounds crazy”, you admitted, your voice breaking. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I’m not lying to you. I swear on everything, Jensen. I haven’t been with anyone else”.

Jensen let out a bitter laugh, pacing back and forth like he didn’t know what to do with himself. “And I’m supposed to just accept that?”, he said, his voice still sharp. “I’m supposed to believe this miracle baby somehow happened out of thin air, and you had nothing to do with it?”.

His words made your heart shatter further, and you felt your knees weaken as you dropped back onto the couch. “I’m begging you to believe me”, you whispered, your hands trembling in your lap. “Please, Jensen”.

“The fuck should I believe?”, Jensen roared, his voice so loud it made you flinch, your body recoiling slightly as his anger filled the room like a thunderstorm. His hands balled into fists at his sides, trembling with barely contained fury.

Without thinking, he kicked the coffee table, sending it crashing into the wall with a loud, splintering crack. The sudden violence left you frozen, your breath catching as tears streamed down your face. You had never seen him like this—so raw, so completely consumed by his emotions.

“I can’t get anyone fucking pregnant anymore!”, he shouted, his voice breaking with the weight of his anger and disbelief. “I had a goddamn vasectomy, for fuck’s sake! So you tell me how the hell I’m supposed to believe this bullshit!”.

You sat there, trembling, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to find your voice. But before you could speak, he continued, his tone turning cruel, sharp, and cutting in a way that felt almost deliberate.

“If you think I’m fucking stupid enough to believe you got pregnant with my kid—when I know damn well it’s not possible—you’ve lost your fucking mind”, he spat. “What’s next? You expect me to raise someone else’s bastard kid?”.

The word bastard hit you like a slap to the face, your hands trembling as you pressed them against your lap. His words were venomous, meant to lash out in his pain, but that didn’t make them sting any less.

“Jensen…”, you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he wasn’t finished.

“I’ve been bending over backward for you”, he continued, his tone mocking now. “Moving across the country, buying a house, trying to fix everything, and now this? And you expect me to just… what? Take your word for it and play along?”.

Your body was shaking uncontrollably now, the sheer force of his anger leaving you feeling hollow and small. “I don’t know what else to say”, you whispered, tears choking your voice. “I’ve told you the truth, Jensen. I swear on everything, I haven’t cheated on you”.

But he didn’t respond, his chest heaving as he stood on the other side of the room, his hands raking through his hair as though trying to make sense of his own anger. The silence that followed was deafening, and the distance between you felt insurmountable.

You weren’t mad at Jensen—how could you be? You understood where he was coming from, his anger fueled by shock, confusion, and betrayal he thought was real. He had every reason to doubt you, especially after the way you’d handled the last week. You’d questioned him, accused him, made him feel like the bad guy. And now, here you were, asking for blind faith in return.

But that didn’t erase the fear now settling in your chest.

Jensen’s rage wasn’t directed at you personally, not really—it was aimed at the impossible situation, at the breaking point the two of you had reached. Still, seeing him like this, his face twisted in anger, his voice echoing through the room, made your stomach churn. You pressed a trembling hand to your abdomen, trying to steady yourself as nausea threatened to overwhelm you again.

You didn’t want to throw up—not now, not here. You weren’t even sure you could move from the couch without collapsing. The weight of everything—the stress, the hormones, the exhaustion—pressed down on you like an iron weight. Your body felt weak, your mind spinning as you tried to process his words, his accusations, his pain.

“Jensen”, you said softly, your voice trembling as you tried to cut through the silence. “I know… I know you’re mad. And I don’t blame you. I’d feel the same way if I were you”.

He turned to look at you, his chest still heaving, but his expression flickered with something else—confusion, maybe, or guilt at how raw he’d let his anger become. His green eyes bore into yours, the frustration still simmering just beneath the surface.

“I didn’t handle any of this right”, you admitted, tears slipping down your cheeks as you spoke. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. I should’ve talked to you instead of shutting you out. But Jensen, I swear to you, I haven’t been with anyone else. I don’t know how this happened, and I’m scared, too. I’m scared out of my mind”.

His jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides as he seemed to struggle with himself, his anger warring with something deeper. He took a step closer but stopped, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You’re scared?”, he repeated, his voice still tense. “What the hell do you think I am, standing here? You drop something like this on me, and you expect me to just…”. He trailed off, shaking his head.

You swallowed hard, willing the nausea to stay at bay as you looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.

Jensen caught your eyes, his chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths. His green eyes, usually so steady, glistened as he shook his head slowly, his lips pressing into a tight line. “Don’t look at me like that”, he breathed, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “Don’t… don’t do that”.

Your stomach churned harder, not from the nausea this time, but from the realization of just how much pain he was in. He wasn’t just angry; he was unraveling, and you couldn’t tell if you were the one holding the thread or the one tangled in it with him.

Jensen looked away, his jaw clenching as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You have no idea what this feels like”, he muttered, his voice low and ragged. “To stand here, after everything I’ve been through, and feel like…”. He stopped, shaking his head again. “It feels like you’re doing everything she did to me, only fucking worse”.

The words hit you like a freight train, and your breath caught in your throat. “Jensen”, you said softly, your voice trembling. “That’s not what I’m doing. I swear to you, I’m not trying to hurt you”.

He let out a hollow laugh, one that carried no humor. “It sure feels like it… Do you know what it’s like to spend years being lied to? Manipulated? Made to feel like you’re never enough? That no matter how hard you try, you’re always the problem?”.

You shook your head, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. “I didn’t mean—”.

“That’s the thing”, he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “You didn’t mean to. And yet here we are. You’re asking me to believe something that doesn’t make sense, and I want to. God, I want to believe you more than anything. But do you know how hard that is when every instinct I have is screaming at me to protect myself?”.

His words left you speechless, your hands trembling in your lap as you tried to find something—anything—to say that could bridge the gap between you. But everything felt inadequate, like a drop of water on a wildfire.

Jensen’s shoulders sagged, and his voice softened as he ran a hand through his hair again. “I’m not saying you’re her. I know you’re not. But right now, it feels the same. The doubts. The confusion. The fear. And it’s killing me because I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know how to make sense of this”.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. Neither of you spoke, the weight of the conversation pressing down like an unbearable force. Jensen eventually let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he walked away from where he had been standing. He sank into the armchair across the room, keeping a noticeable distance from you but still watching you carefully, his face a mixture of exhaustion and pain.

For minutes, the room was filled with nothing but the faint hum of the heater, each second stretching into what felt like hours. You stared at your hands in your lap, trembling slightly, while Jensen leaned forward in the chair, his elbows on his knees and his fingers interlaced, like he was trying to hold himself together.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice quiet and almost hesitant. “Did you… have you seen a doctor?”, he asked, his words measured. “To know for sure?”.

You looked up at him, your throat tightening at the question. His green eyes met yours, not angry now, but guarded, as though he was bracing himself for what you might say.

You nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I did”, you said, your fingers twisting together. “They ran some tests. I won’t have the official results until tomorrow, but… I took tests here, Jensen. At home. And they were all positive”.

Jensen leaned back slightly, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. His expression hardened, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. You watched, your stomach knotting as his fingers moved purposefully across the screen, searching for something. His energy had shifted—no longer explosive, but cold and precise, as though he’d locked himself in a protective shell.

“What are you doing?”, you asked shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. Fear gnawed at the edges of your mind, bracing yourself for the worst—for him to accuse you again, for him to tell you to leave, to call the police and let you kicked out of the house.

He held up a hand to quiet you, his green eyes not meeting yours as he dialed a number. His grip on the phone was tight, his knuckles white as he brought it to his ear.

“Yeah”, he said when someone answered, his voice tight and clipped. “This is Jensen Ackles. My date of birth is March 1, 1978. I need to confirm a procedure—a vasectomy I had done with you. It was…”. He paused for a moment, his hand running through his hair as he thought. “It was in 2016. Summer. I need a follow-up. Like, immediately”.

You stared at him, your heart pounding as you processed what was happening. He was calling the doctor who had performed his vasectomy. The realization sent a chill through you. This wasn’t a conversation about the two of you anymore—this was about facts, about evidence. He needed proof, one way or the other.

The voice on the other end of the call spoke for a moment, and Jensen’s grip on the phone tightened further. “Yeah, I understand that”, he snapped, his frustration barely contained. “But this is urgent. I need to know if there’s any chance—any chance at all—that something could’ve failed”.

He paced a few steps as he listened, the tension in his body visible in every movement. You could hear the muffled sound of the person on the other end of the line, but their words were indistinguishable. Jensen’s jaw clenched as he responded. “Fine. I’ll come in tomorrow morning. First thing. Just… make it happen”.

He ended the call with a sharp tap, his hand dropping to his side as he let out a long, heavy sigh.

The silence after Jensen hung up the phone was deafening, stretching between you like an insurmountable wall. His shoulders were tense, his breathing shallow, as if the weight of everything was pressing down on him all at once. He didn’t look at you, didn’t offer any words of reassurance or even anger. Instead, he simply muttered, his voice low and devoid of emotion, “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight”.

The words hit you harder than you’d expected, and before you could respond, he turned and walked toward the hallway. His footsteps were heavy, the sound of his retreat echoing in the quiet room. He disappeared into the guest room, shutting the door firmly behind him without so much as a glance in your direction.

You sat frozen on the couch, staring at the empty space he’d left behind. The tightness in your chest grew until it felt unbearable, and you pressed your trembling hands against your thighs in an attempt to ground yourself. But it was no use. The ache, the confusion, the fear—they were all too overwhelming.

For a moment, you considered going after him, trying to talk again, to fix the broken pieces between you. But the memory of his cold tone, his distant demeanor, held you back. He needed space. Maybe you both did.

With a shaky sigh, you pulled yourself up from the couch and headed toward the bedroom. The quiet house felt even emptier than before, each step amplifying the loneliness that had settled deep in your chest. Once inside, you closed the door softly, leaning against it as tears slipped down your cheeks.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how you pictured your life with Jensen—the man you loved more than anyone. The man who had once made you feel safe and cherished now felt like a stranger. And you couldn’t shake the fear that this chasm between you might never be bridged.

Neither of you could sleep. The house was steeped in a heavy, almost oppressive silence, broken only by the faint creaks of the floorboards as Jensen shifted in the guest room. Despite his exhaustion—days of little rest piling up—his mind refused to quiet. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts looping endlessly. The anger and frustration had simmered down, but in their place was a hollow ache he didn’t know how to fill.

You weren’t faring any better. Your body felt drained, your mind weighed down by the emotional toll of the past few days. By three in the morning, you were hunched over the toilet again, your stomach rejecting even the water you’d managed to sip throughout the evening. The nausea felt relentless, and the exhaustion was so profound that you could barely keep your eyes open. Yet, sleep refused to come.

The sound of you retching must have carried through the house because, before long, there was a soft knock at the bathroom door. You didn’t have the energy to answer, but the door creaked open slightly anyway.

Jensen leaned against the doorframe for a moment, his jaw tight and his expression shadowed with exhaustion. He was still angry—angry at the situation, at the impossible mess you were both tangled in—but he couldn’t ignore the awful sound of you retching, for over 30 minutes now. It was pitiful, like someone barely hanging on, and no matter how confused or frustrated he was, Jensen couldn’t just stand by and pretend he hadn’t heard it.

He stepped inside the bathroom, his footsteps soft but deliberate. His gaze landed on you, hunched over the toilet, your body trembling with the effort of keeping yourself upright. The sight of you, so vulnerable and clearly miserable, made his chest tighten with something that cut through the anger: concern.

“You sound like death warmed over”, he muttered, his voice gruff but not unkind as he crouched down beside you.

You didn’t have the strength to respond, your head resting against your forearm as you gasped for breath. The room spun slightly, and you felt the coolness of his presence next to you, his hand hovering like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you.

“Did you even eat anything today?”, he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now, less sharp.

You shook your head weakly, not trusting your voice to answer. The nausea was relentless, and even water had betrayed you earlier.

Jensen sighed heavily, his frustration clear, but it wasn’t directed at you this time. “You’re going to end up in the hospital if this keeps up”, he said, his voice rough. “You can’t just—”. He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair before letting out another sigh. “Stay here”.

You heard him stand and leave the room briefly, the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall. When he returned, he had a glass of water and a damp washcloth in his hands. He knelt back down beside you, holding the glass out.

“Small sips”, he instructed, his tone firm but not harsh. “Don’t try to chug it. Just… ease into it”.

You took the glass with trembling hands, managing a small sip before your stomach threatened to rebel again. He watched you carefully, his expression still strained, but his presence was steadying.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with us”, Jensen admitted quietly, his green eyes fixed on yours. “But I can’t just sit in the other room and listen to you like this”.

Your voice was barely audible as you whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jensen”. The words were weak, trembling, and filled with the kind of heartbreak that only came from the depths of your soul. Tears slipped down your cheeks, unstoppable as the sobs bubbled up from inside you, leaving you a breathless, shaking mess.

“I didn’t lie to you”, you managed between shaky breaths, your words broken and desperate. “I would never hurt you, Jensen. I swear, you’ll see tomorrow. You’ll see…”.

Jensen’s heart clenched painfully as he watched you fall apart in front of him. You were a wreck—tears streaming, sobs making it nearly impossible for you to breathe properly, your body trembling from the sheer exhaustion of days without keeping food down. His anger, his frustration, all of it took a backseat as the reality of your physical state hit him like a freight train.

Before he could respond, your body lurched again, and you turned back toward the toilet, retching violently. Your stomach was empty, but it didn’t seem to matter. The dry heaves wracked your frame, leaving you gasping for air and clinging to the toilet for support. Jensen didn’t hesitate this time. He was beside you in an instant, one hand holding back your hair while the other rested on your back, steady and reassuring.

“This isn’t healthy”, he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with worry. “This isn’t okay—not for you, and not if…” His voice faltered, but his hand remained firm against your back. “Not if you’re really pregnant”.

You sobbed harder, your body shaking with the effort of holding yourself up. “I know”, you choked out, your voice barely audible. “I know it’s not. But I can’t—”. Another retch interrupted you, leaving you gasping and trembling. “I don’t know what to do”.

He swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he felt the weight of your words. You were falling apart, and for all his anger and confusion, he couldn’t stand to see you like this. “We’ll figure it out”, he said softly, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “We’ll figure it out, okay? But you can’t keep going like this. You’re going to make yourself sick. Really sick”.

He shifted, grabbing the damp washcloth again and pressing it gently against your forehead once you leaned back from the toilet. His green eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere tonight”, he said quietly, his tone firm. “And tomorrow, we’ll deal with everything. But right now, we need to get you through the night”.

You nodded weakly, your body too spent to argue, too exhausted to feel anything but the faint flicker of relief that he was still there.

Eventually, without even realizing it, you drifted into a fitful sleep against Jensen’s side. Your body, utterly spent from the exhaustion and the endless spiral of emotions, gave in to the warmth and steadiness of his presence. Jensen sat there, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared at the wall, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions.

He was caught in an unbearable tug-of-war. On one side, there was the love he felt for you—the fierce, all-consuming kind that made him want to protect you no matter what. On the other, there was the gnawing ache of betrayal he couldn’t quite shake, the possibility that everything you’d built together could be unraveling with lies.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as he battled himself. His gaze dropped to your sleeping face, tear-streaked and pale. The vulnerability etched into your features made something deep in his chest twist painfully. You were hurting, and even in his anger, he couldn’t turn away from that.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jensen let out a slow, shaky breath. He couldn’t leave you like this—not tonight. His protective instincts overrode the storm of doubts in his mind as he carefully scooped you up, cradling you against his chest. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake, your head resting against his shoulder as he carried you to the bedroom.

He laid you gently on the bed, tucking the blankets around you with a tenderness that belied the war raging inside him. As he moved to lay down beside you, your eyes fluttered open briefly, glassy with exhaustion but still aware enough to speak.

“I’m not her, Jensen”, you whispered, your voice fragile but steady, carrying a quiet plea for him to believe you.

Jensen’s chest tightened, and his breath caught in his throat. But before he could respond, you were already drifting back into sleep, your breathing evening out as the weight of the night finally pulled you under.

He lay beside you, staring at the ceiling, the echo of your words looping in his mind. “I’m not her”. They were simple, yet they carried the weight of everything unsaid between you.

Jensen didn’t sleep that night. His mind churned with memories, fears, and hopes, all tangled together in an exhausting loop. But as he listened to the sound of your soft, even breaths beside him, his hand instinctively reached for yours under the blanket. He held it tightly, as though it was the only anchor keeping him grounded.

The next morning, Jensen stood in the kitchen, leaning heavily against the counter with his third cup of coffee in hand. He’d showered and dressed early, but the exhaustion etched into his face hadn’t washed away. The dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced than ever, and his expression was a mix of weariness and tension.

The house was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the refrigerator and the soft clink of his coffee mug against the counter. He glanced at the clock for the third time in ten minutes, the looming doctor’s appointment weighing on his mind. He hadn’t slept at all, his thoughts looping endlessly between doubt, anger, and the faint, stubborn hope that maybe—just maybe—he’d been wrong to jump to conclusions.

When he heard soft footsteps padding down the hall, his posture stiffened. He looked up to see you standing in the doorway, still pale and tired but with a tentative resolve in your eyes. The sight of you made his chest tighten.

“Morning”, you said softly, your voice hoarse from the night before.

Jensen nodded, his grip tightening on his coffee mug. “Morning”, he replied, his tone flat but not unkind. He watched as you hesitated, your eyes flickering toward him and then away, as though unsure of how to approach him after everything.

You stepped into the kitchen, leaning slightly against the counter opposite him. “You’re up early”, you said, trying to fill the heavy silence.

“Couldn’t sleep”, he admitted, his voice quieter now. He took a sip of his coffee, the bitterness doing little to ease the tightness in his throat. “Doctor’s appointment in a couple hours”.

Your eyes dropped to your hands, fidgeting nervously with the edge of the blanket. “Jensen…”, you started, but your voice faltered, and you didn’t know what else to say.

He sighed, setting his mug down and crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll figure this out”, he said, his voice carrying an edge of determination despite the fatigue. “One way or another, we’ll get the answers”.

The tension between you was palpable, but there was also an unspoken understanding that today was a turning point. Everything hinged on what the doctor would say, on whether the impossible had truly happened or if the cracks between you would grow even wider.

“Do you want me to come with you?”, you asked hesitantly, your voice trembling slightly.

Jensen stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he nodded. “Yeah”, he said softly.

The words hung between you, a fragile truce as you both prepared for what the day would bring.

Jensen’s green eyes met yours, but there was a flicker of hesitation in them as he spoke. “Do you… do you want me to come with you? To your appointment?”, he asked, his voice quiet and cautious. The tension in his posture was palpable, and you could see it wasn’t an offer made with ease.

You looked at him, your heart aching. You wanted him there so desperately—to hold your hand, to be a united front in this storm, to share the weight of whatever was to come. But the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed slightly as if bracing himself, told you the truth he wouldn’t say: he didn’t want to go. The thought of facing that moment together terrified him in ways he couldn’t fully express.

For a moment, the words stuck in your throat. You wanted to tell him it would mean everything for him to be there, but you also didn’t want to push him further than he could bear. You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you spoke.

“I want you there, Jensen”, you admitted softly, your eyes searching his. “But… I can see you don’t want to be”.

His gaze dropped, his hand tightening around the mug he was still holding. He looked as though he wanted to say something, to protest, but no words came. Instead, he let out a long sigh, setting the mug down with a faint clink before rubbing a hand over his face.

Jensen hesitated, his lips parting as though to argue, to explain. “It’s not that I—”, he started, his voice strained and unsure, but you shook your head gently, cutting him off before he could finish.

“It’s alright”, you said softly, forcing a small, sad smile as you looked at him. “I can handle this”.

The words felt heavier than you intended, and for a moment, Jensen’s expression twisted with something like guilt. He looked as though he wanted to protest, but the weight of everything left him silent, standing frozen as you turned and walked toward the stairs.

Your footsteps felt louder than usual, the quiet tension in the house amplifying every small sound. As you climbed the stairs, you couldn’t stop the wave of emotion rising in your chest. You wanted him there so badly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to force him into something he wasn’t ready for. You told yourself it was better this way—simpler, less painful. But it didn’t stop the ache that settled deep in your heart.

Once in the bedroom, you closed the door softly behind you and leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You couldn’t afford to fall apart now. There would be time for that later—after you knew for certain, after you had answers. For now, you needed to get through the day.

You crossed the room and began to get ready, your movements slow and deliberate. As you pulled on your clothes and brushed your hair, you tried to focus on the task at hand rather than the whirlwind of doubt, fear, and sadness threatening to consume you.

Downstairs, Jensen stood by the kitchen counter, staring blankly at his coffee mug. His hands flexed at his sides, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he replayed your words in his mind. “I can handle this”.

The phrase gnawed at him, stirring a sense of failure he couldn’t shake. He knew you needed him—he could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. But the weight of his own doubts and fears felt insurmountable, leaving him paralyzed.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the counter. He hated himself for hesitating, for letting his own turmoil keep him from being there for you. But he didn’t know how to face this—not when the foundations of everything he thought he knew were already crumbling beneath him.

The sound of footsteps upstairs pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced toward the stairs, his heart heavy.

The air between you felt thick as you descended the stairs, bag slung over your shoulder and keys in hand. Jensen hadn’t moved from his spot by the counter, still gripping the edge as though it was the only thing keeping him upright. His green eyes flicked to yours as you approached, filled with a storm of emotions he couldn’t seem to voice.

You stopped a few feet away, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “I’ll pick you up after”, you whispered, your voice soft but steady, though the crack of vulnerability in it betrayed you. You didn’t want to make this harder than it already was—for either of you.

Jensen’s lips parted slightly, like he was going to say something, but the words didn’t come. His gaze searched yours, and for a brief moment, his hand twitched as though he might reach out to you. Instead, he stayed rooted to the spot, silent and still, his jaw tightening as his eyes glistened with something he wouldn’t let fall.

You forced a faint, shaky smile, clutching your keys tighter as you turned toward the door. The sound of your footsteps echoed faintly, and when you reached the doorknob, you paused, looking back over your shoulder. Jensen hadn’t moved an inch, his gaze fixed on the floor now, the lines of his face etched with pain and conflict.

“I’ll text you when I’m done”, you added, your voice barely audible before you stepped out into the cool morning air and closed the door softly behind you.

As you walked to your car, the weight of everything pressed down on you, heavier with every step. You slipped into the driver’s seat, resting your hands on the steering wheel for a moment as you exhaled shakily. The thought of going to the appointment alone was daunting, but you pushed the fear aside, focusing on the road ahead.

Inside the house, Jensen finally moved, letting out a sharp breath as he rubbed his hands over his face. He felt hollow, torn between chasing after you and staying rooted in his uncertainty. The sound of the door closing had been too final, and the silence that followed was deafening.

He leaned heavily against the counter, his head hanging as he muttered to himself, “What the hell is wrong with me?”. But even he didn’t have an answer.

As you parked in front of the doctor’s office, your hands gripping the steering wheel tightly while you stared at the building. Your nerves felt like they were on fire, twisting and tightening in your stomach. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but it did little to ease the racing thoughts in your mind.

What if I am pregnant? What if I’m not? What happens either way?

The questions circled endlessly, each one feeding the other until it felt like your chest was caving in. You had hoped, desperately, that the home tests were wrong. That the exhaustion, nausea, and missed periods were just the result of stress, not something more life-changing. But five positive tests weren’t easy to dismiss, no matter how much you wanted to.

You sighed deeply, resting your forehead against the steering wheel for a moment before forcing yourself to move. Your hands shook slightly as you opened the car door and stepped out into the crisp air, your breath fogging in front of you as you made your way toward the entrance.

The waiting room was quiet, almost eerily so, with just a soft hum of conversation from the receptionist desk and the faint sound of pages turning from someone flipping through a magazine. You checked in, your voice shaky as you gave your name, and then you sat down, your leg bouncing nervously as you waited.

Every second felt like an eternity, the sterile walls closing in around you as your thoughts ran wild.

Finally, your name was called, and you stood on shaky legs, making your way toward the doctor’s office. The nurse led you to the examination room, and you barely noticed the sound of your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. Your mind was a blur, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you sat down, waiting for the doctor to come in.

When he entered, he was holding a folder, a kind smile on his face as he closed the door behind him. He settled into his chair, flipping through the papers in his hands before looking up at you.

“Well”, he began, his tone cheerful but professional, “it’s not stress, and you’re not sick”. He paused, letting the words hang in the air for just a moment before continuing. “You’re pregnant. Congratulations”.

Your breath caught in your throat, the words hitting you like a freight train. You stared at him, frozen in place, as if your brain was refusing to process what he’d just said.

He smiled again, unaware of the storm raging inside you, and slid a piece of paper across the desk. “Here’s a list of gynecologists in the area”, he said. “You’ll want to set up your first prenatal appointment soon. They’ll be able to walk you through everything you need to know moving forward”.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even reach for the paper. The room felt like it was spinning, your breath coming in shallow bursts as the weight of his words settled over you. Pregnant. He’d said it so casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, but to you, it felt anything but.

“Are… are you sure?”, you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

He nodded, his expression softening as he met your eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. The tests don’t lie. You’re pregnant”.

You blinked, tears welling in your eyes as you looked down at your hands, your mind racing. Everything felt surreal, like you were watching someone else’s life unfold instead of your own.

The doctor seemed to sense your overwhelm, his voice gentle as he added, “Take your time. It’s a lot to take in. If you have any questions or concerns, I’m here to help”.

You nodded weakly, still unable to speak. Slowly, you reached out and took the list of gynecologists, clutching it in your trembling hands.

“Congratulations again”, the doctor said warmly before standing and leaving the room, giving you a moment to collect yourself.

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the list in your hands. Pregnant. The word echoed in your mind, over and over, as the enormity of the situation began to sink in.

You didn’t know how long you sat in the doctor’s office, frozen in place with the list of gynecologists clutched in your hands. Time seemed irrelevant as your mind replayed the doctor’s words over and over. Pregnant. The weight of it pressed down on you like a boulder, suffocating and impossible to ignore.

Eventually, you forced yourself to stand. Your legs felt shaky as you made your way back to your car, sliding into the driver’s seat and gripping the steering wheel tightly. The drive home was a blur, the world outside the window passing in muted tones as your thoughts churned relentlessly. Pregnant. Jensen. His appointment.

You pulled into the driveway, the house looming in front of you like a question you didn’t have an answer for. Home. A place that had felt safe and warm just weeks ago now felt like a battleground, filled with tension and doubt.

As you sat in the car, staring blankly at the dashboard, you realized you hadn’t texted Jensen after leaving the doctor’s office. Your fingers trembled as you typed out a quick message:

"I'm here. Ready whenever you are".

You barely hit send before the screen blurred with your unshed tears. Setting your phone down, you leaned back into the seat, staring out of the window as the weight of everything pressed down on you once again. Minutes felt like hours, the silence in the car echoing loudly in your head.

To your surprise, Jensen was at the passenger side door within minutes, sliding in without a word. He closed the door softly, but the air between you felt thick with tension. You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the world outside, watching as the trees swayed gently in the wind. Your hands rested loosely on the steering wheel, your fingers tapping lightly—a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to stop.

Jensen shifted in his seat, his gaze on you as if he were trying to decipher your thoughts. His jaw was tight, and his green eyes looked more tired than ever. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but hesitated, his hands clenching into fists in his lap before he finally found the courage.

“Are you…”, he started, his voice low and hesitant. “Are you pregnant?”.

You didn’t answer right away, your heart hammering in your chest. The word sat heavy on your tongue, but saying it out loud felt like breaking something fragile. You finally nodded, still not looking at him. “Yeah”, you whispered, the single word carrying more weight than you thought possible.

Jensen inhaled sharply, leaning back in his seat. He rubbed a hand over his face, his expression unreadable as he stared straight ahead. “Okay”, he said after a long moment, his voice almost too calm. “Let’s… let’s go”.

You nodded silently, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. The ride to his doctor’s office was quiet, both of you drowning in your own thoughts.

Jensen didn’t press for details, but you could feel his gaze flicking toward you every so often, like he was still trying to convince himself of what you’d just confirmed. He wanted to know the truth more than anything—but at the same time, the fear of what that truth might mean seemed to paralyze him.

The sterile atmosphere of the waiting room only added to the tension clawing at your chest. You sat alone, your hands tightly clasped together in your lap as you tried to steady your breathing. The faint hum of fluorescent lights and the distant murmur of voices from down the hall barely registered as you fought against the nausea that still hadn’t let up. Every few seconds, your stomach twisted painfully, and you had to focus on slow, deliberate breaths to keep from rushing to the bathroom.

Jensen had been gone for what felt like an eternity, and the time stretched endlessly as your mind raced. You knew he wasn’t himself right now. The weight of everything—the doubts, the accusations, the impossibility of the situation—was visibly pressing down on him. The thought of Jensen in that sterile little room, trying to gather a sample while drowning in the same swirling emotions, made your chest ache.

If things had been different—if everything hadn’t been so fractured—you might have been by his side, offering a playful smile, teasing him, or even helping him in a much more… physical way. But now, the gap between you felt wider than ever. Instead of playful banter, there was silence. Instead of closeness, there was an invisible wall you weren’t sure how to break down.

You leaned your head back against the wall, closing your eyes briefly as you tried to push away the overwhelming emotions and the persistent nausea. But it was impossible not to think about what Jensen might be feeling in that moment. He was a man who thrived on control and certainty, and this situation was the opposite of everything he relied on.

Finally, the door to the hallway opened, and Jensen emerged. His shoulders were tense, his jaw set, and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t meet your eyes right away as he crossed the waiting room, his steps purposeful but heavy.

“It’s done”, he said shortly, his voice clipped as he stopped in front of you. He still didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “They’ll have the results in a few hours”.

You nodded, standing up slowly, your knees wobbling slightly from the effort. Jensen finally glanced at you, and for a brief moment, his expression softened, worry flickering in his green eyes. But just as quickly, he looked away again, the tension in his body radiating outward like an unspoken barrier.

“Let’s go”, he said quietly, heading for the door. You followed silently, unsure of what to say or how to bridge the widening gap between you.

As you approached the car, Jensen glanced at you, noticing the slight wobble in your step and the way your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the car door.

“I’ll drive”, he said curtly, stepping around to the driver’s side and gesturing for you to get in on the passenger side.

You didn’t argue. You were too exhausted, too emotionally drained to put up a fight. Sliding into the seat, you closed your eyes briefly, leaning your head against the cool window as Jensen started the car. The ride was quiet, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on.

A few minutes later, the car slowed, and you opened your eyes to see he’d pulled into the parking lot of a small Thai restaurant. Still, he didn’t speak, just got out of the car and walked inside without so much as a glance back at you.

You stared out the window, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of his actions.

Ten minutes later, Jensen emerged, a small plastic bag in his hand. He walked back to the car with a purposeful stride, opened the driver’s door, and slid in without a word. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a plain bowl of steamed rice and a bottle of water, handing them to you.

“Here”, he said simply, his voice quiet but devoid of the usual warmth you were used to.

You took the food hesitantly, murmuring a soft, “Thank you”, as your fingers brushed against his. He didn’t acknowledge the gratitude, his eyes fixed on the steering wheel as he started the car again.

The silence between you was deafening, and you could feel the unspoken tension pressing down on both of you. Jensen’s jaw was clenched tight, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheel. He seemed lost in his thoughts, his expression unreadable.

You picked at the rice, the plainness of it easier on your churning stomach. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

As the car turned back onto the main road, you glanced at Jensen, his profile illuminated by the glow of passing streetlights. He looked exhausted, his face drawn and his eyes clouded. It was clear he was carrying just as much as you were, and it weighed on him in ways you hadn’t fully understood until now.

Jensen’s hand tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as his voice broke through the silence, low and tight. “I don’t know what to say to you anymore”, he admitted, his words carrying a weight that made your chest tighten.

The tears filled your eyes almost instantly, the familiar sting making you curse yourself internally. You’d cried so much over the past days, you should have been empty by now. But here you were again, breaking under the pressure of his words, the tension, the doubt that had consumed both of you.

You blinked rapidly, trying to will the tears away, but it was useless. They slid down your cheeks silently as you stared out of the window, your fingers tightening around the bottle of water he’d handed you earlier. You felt small, fragile, and more alone than ever, despite Jensen sitting just inches away.

“I don’t know what to say either”, you whispered finally, your voice trembling as you kept your gaze fixed on the food. “Every time I try, it feels like it’s not enough. Like I can’t make you believe me”.

Jensen let out a shaky breath, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly as he glanced at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I want to believe you”, he said, his voice softer but no less strained. “I really do. But… I’m scared, alright? I’m fucking terrified”.

His admission caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him, your tear-streaked face lit by the dim glow of the dashboard. “Scared of what?”, you asked, your voice breaking.

He hesitated, his jaw clenching as he searched for the right words. “Of losing you”, he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of finding out that everything I thought we had was just… not real. I don’t think I could survive that”.

Your heart twisted at his confession, the vulnerability in his tone cutting through the haze of your own pain.

"You’ll have your answers in a few hours, Jensen”, you said quietly, your voice wavering as you stared at the road ahead. “While I’m…”. You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to twist the knife any deeper, but the weight of everything inside you pushed it out. “I’m left with believing that this picture was just staged. For me, there isn’t some test results showing you didn’t lie”.

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel the tension rolling off Jensen in waves, his knuckles tightening again on the steering wheel. His jaw clenched, and his chest rose and fell heavily as though he was struggling to contain his emotions.

“That’s not fair”, he said finally, his voice low but filled with restrained pain. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t feel like I’m walking a tightrope too? I’m putting everything on the line for you, and you’re telling me you’re stuck ‘believing’?”.

You turned to face him, the tears streaming down your cheeks making it hard to see. “Because that’s all I have, Jensen!”, you snapped, the frustration and heartbreak spilling over. “I don’t have proof. I don’t have a test result to tell me you didn’t kiss her, or let her get that close, or—”. You stopped, biting down on your trembling lip as your voice broke.

Jensen exhaled sharply, his hand slamming against the steering wheel in frustration. “I’ve told you the truth, dammit! I’ve told you over and over that I didn’t want any of that, that I didn’t let it happen. But yeah, sure, you’re right—there’s no test for that. All I have is my word, and apparently, that’s not enough”.

The car slowed as he pulled over to the side of the road, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. He turned to look at you, his green eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and anger.

“I love you, okay?”, he said, his voice cracking. “More than I’ve loved anyone. But if you can’t believe me—if you can’t trust me even after I’ve laid everything bare—then what’s the point?”.

"You don’t trust me either!”, you fired back, your voice shaking but firm as you glared at Jensen. “You made that appointment to check your fucking sperm instead of believing me! None of us is better than the fucking other right now!”.

Jensen’s face twisted with frustration, his hand gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Don’t you dare turn this on me!”, he shouted, his voice rising in anger. “I made that appointment because the fucking math doesn’t add up! Because I needed to know if there was even a chance—any chance—that what you’re saying is real!”.

“And I’m supposed to just sit here and be okay with that?”, you snapped, your voice trembling as you stared him down. “You think it doesn’t hurt that you doubted me enough to even need those results? You think it doesn’t tear me apart that you couldn’t just believe me?”.

“I couldn’t!”, Jensen shouted, his voice breaking as he slammed his hand against the wheel again. “Not because I don’t want to, but because I’ve been lied to before! Manipulated before! I can’t—I can’t go through that again. Not with you”.

His voice cracked on the last words, and for a moment, the tension in the car shifted, his anger giving way to something rawer, more vulnerable. His shoulders sagged as he leaned back in his seat, running a hand down his face as if trying to pull himself together.

The words caught in your throat, tangled and heavy as you tried to process what he’d just said. You weren’t any better, and you knew it. You hadn’t trusted him either, even when he’d told you the picture was staged. You wanted to defend yourself, to explain how the doubt crept in, but the truth was, you couldn’t. You didn’t have an excuse.

Jensen let out a hollow, bitter laugh, shaking his head as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Welcome to the world of Danneel”, he muttered, his voice dripping with anger and exhaustion. He slammed his palm against the wheel again, harder this time, the sound echoing through the car. “That’s exactly what she fucking wanted. And we’re just giving it to her, aren’t we?”.

You flinched slightly at the force of his anger, your stomach churning not just from the tension but from the nausea that still lingered. “Jensen…”, you began softly, unsure of what to say, unsure if anything you said would even matter.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze fixed out of the window as his chest heaved with uneven breaths. “She wanted this”, he said again, his voice quieter now but no less sharp. “She wanted to plant doubt, to mess with my fucking head, with your head. And it worked. Because now, here we are, tearing each other apart, just like she fucking planned”.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, your fingers trembling as his words sank in. “I didn’t mean to doubt you”, you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want to. But it just… it hurt so much, seeing that picture, reading that message…”.

Jensen’s head snapped back toward you, his eyes blazing. “And you think it didn’t hurt to have you shut me out for days? To be accused of cheating when I’ve done everything—everything—to prove to you that I want this life with you?”.

The tears you’d been trying to hold back spilled over, slipping silently down your cheeks.

Jensen closed his eyes tightly, his hands gripping the wheel again before he finally let out a deep, shuddering breath. “I would never cheat on you, (Y/N)!”, he said firmly, his voice trembling slightly but filled with conviction. “Never. Do you hear me? I love you way too much for that”.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he didn’t let you, shaking his head as his voice grew louder, more desperate. “What do you want me to do? You want me to fucking propose to you to finally make you believe me? Alright, fine. I’ll fucking propose”.

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, the weight of them stunned you both. His chest heaved as he stared at you, his eyes glistening, his jaw tight. It wasn’t just anger—it was fear, heartbreak, and a desperate attempt to keep you from slipping away.

“Jensen…”, you whispered, your voice barely audible as you reached out to him, your trembling hand resting on his arm. “That’s not what this is about”.

“Then what is it about?”, he snapped, though his voice cracked under the strain. “Because I don’t know how else to prove to you that I’m all in. That I love you. That I would never, never hurt you like that”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, your chest aching as his words pierced through the fog of doubt and fear that had been clouding your heart. You could see it in his face, hear it in his voice—he wasn’t just angry; he was breaking. And the realization broke something in you too.

“You would really marry me just to make me believe you?”, you whispered through your sobs, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your voice was shaky, almost disbelieving, as you stared at Jensen. You knew how much he hated the thought of marriage—how his past with Danneel had made the idea feel like a trap rather than a promise. The fact that he would even suggest it now hit you harder than anything else.

Jensen’s green eyes softened slightly, his grip on the wheel loosening as his shoulders sagged. “Yes”, he said quietly, his voice rough but steady. “If that’s what it takes. If that’s what I have to do to make you see that I’m not going anywhere… then yeah. I’d marry you”.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. His jaw tightened as he looked at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But it’s not just to prove something, (Y/N)”, he continued, his voice lowering. “I’d marry you because I want to. Because you’re it for me. You’re my future. I don’t care about the past anymore—I just want you”.

Your breath hitched, your heart twisting as his words broke through the layers of fear and doubt that had been building for days. “Jensen…”, you started, but your voice cracked, and you couldn’t get the words out.

He turned to face you fully, his hands reaching for yours. His grip was warm and firm, grounding you in the moment. “I know I’ve been a mess”, he said softly. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I know it’s hard to trust me right now. But I’m telling you, (Y/N), I will do whatever it takes to fix this. To fix us”.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes stealing the breath from your lungs. “I don’t need you to marry me”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “I just… I need to know we’re okay. That we can get through this”.

Jensen exhaled deeply, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he nodded. “We will,” he promised, his voice strong and certain. “We’ll get through this. Together”.

For the first time in days, a small flicker of hope sparked in your chest. You didn’t know what the future held, but in that moment, with Jensen’s hands holding yours and his eyes locked on yours, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could face it together.

Jensen hesitated, his hands still holding yours tightly, his green eyes searching your face as though he could find the truth hidden in your expression. His jaw clenched, and he took a shaky breath, his voice quieter this time but no less urgent.

“Can you promise me?”, he asked, his tone laced with raw vulnerability. “Can you promise me, right here, right now, that you didn’t cheat on me?”.

Your heart ached at the question, at the pain it revealed. He was laying everything bare, risking so much just to find some semblance of clarity in the storm that had overtaken your lives. Tears welled in your eyes again as you nodded, your voice trembling but firm.

“I promise”, you said, looking him directly in the eyes. “Jensen, I promise I didn’t cheat on you. I’ve never even thought about it. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t”.

Jensen closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling heavily as he processed your words. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were softer, the sharp edge of anger replaced with something more vulnerable. “Then… I believe you”, he whispered, his voice low and hesitant, as though saying it out loud made him feel exposed.

He pulled away slightly, his hands leaving yours as he leaned back into his seat, his posture stiff and tense. The silence that followed was thick, heavy with the weight of everything that had been said and unsaid between you. Neither of you seemed to know how to fill the space, the quiet stretching out like a chasm.

Eventually, Jensen broke it, his voice quiet but firm as he nodded toward the container of food he’d brought for you earlier. “You need to eat something”, he mumbled, not looking directly at you but still glancing toward the untouched bowl of rice.

Your stomach churned at the thought of eating, but the concern in his voice made you hesitate. You glanced at the food and then back at him, noticing the lines of exhaustion etched into his face, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced now than they’d been even hours ago.

“I don’t know if I can keep it down”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen sighed, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You have to try”, he said, his tone more gentle this time. “Even if it’s just a little. You haven’t eaten properly in days, and… you’re pregnant… you need to take care of yourself”.

The mention of the pregnancy made your chest tighten, but you nodded, reaching for the container with trembling hands. Jensen watched you for a moment, his gaze steady but filled with worry, before he leaned back again, running a hand through his hair as though trying to pull himself together.

You took a small bite of the rice, forcing it down despite the way your stomach protested. The quiet between you lingered, but there was a faint shift, a fragile truce beginning to take shape. For now, it was enough.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles the boys #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #spn cast #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #his true fate

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wqlfstqr · 2 days ago

Text

◟𖥻 cherry lipstick : harry potter

▰▰ pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

when harry's curious about lipstick, she takes him by surprise— by showing him how it tastes.

mari talks! had to get this out of my mind, I'll always love flustered/awkward harry potter.

Harry had tried to keep himself away from her. He really tried. But how could he, when she has this pull on him that no one else has. Her effect is always immediate, every time she walks into a room, Harry feels the need to drop everything if only just to look at her.

She is beautiful, of course Harry is not the first or last one to notice it. But he is the first to be distracted enough by her to end up blowing up a potion on his own face. That had landed him a scold from Snape and then— detention.

Snape had made him come back after the day ended to clean the potions classroom without magic. And it was a mess, not only after the disaster Harry himself had managed to pull, but also because first years had been receiving class after.

What he wasn't expecting was for her to walk into the room a few minutes later. "you're late, miss y/l/n" Snape told her without even looking up from the book he was reading, his voice cold. "I believe, the reason you were assigned detention again was because you were late to class."

Harry, who was trying very hard to stop himself from looking at her, rolled his eyes. "She's only two minutes late, I'm sure she'll be fine." he mumbled, because Harry was never one to control his smart mouth.

Snape looked up just to glare at him for the interruption. "As I was saying, that's thirty minutes more added to your detention, miss y/n. And since Potter made it clear that he doesn't mind a few minutes more, he will stay with you."

He barely has time to react before Snape looks at the clock on his desk and shuts down his book abruptly, tucks it under his arm and strides towards the door. "I have a meeting. You two better stay here and have everything clean when I'm back or else you'll spend tomorrow night cleaning again."

And with that, he steps out of the classroom, the door behind him closing with a click.

Silence, then— "thanks for trying I guess." she tells him softly as she takes a rag and comes closer to help Harry clean the desks.

"Couldn't help myself" He replies without looking up, he doesn't want to make a fool of himself.

She giggles but doesn't add anything else so they spend the next thirty minutes in silence and it's starting to drive Harry crazy, but he doesn't know how to start a conversation with her, he's way too nervous. Instead, he steals glances at her from time to time.

She's the one to break the silence again when she stops and looks around. "Do you reckon Snape would know if we used magic?"

When Harry looks up, she's already looking at him with her head tilted, an amused little smile on her lips. "His greasy head always knows everything." Harry tells her, smiling when he hears her giggling again.

He's expecting her to keep cleaning but instead she drops the rag, reaching into her robe and pulling something small. Harry doesn’t know what it is until she takes the cap off.

Lipstick.

He just can't help but watch, helpless, as she twists the tube and leans against the nearest reflective surface to apply it carefully on her lips.

Oh Harry's doomed. He knows he is. His heart pounds so loudly he's almost afraid she'll hear it. But she doesn't seem aware of it as she glides the lipstick over her lips, then pressing them together softly before pulling back to inspect her work.

He's so far gone that he doesn’t notice her turning around until it's too late, and he's not able to look away before she catches him staring at her.

"What?" She asks, her voice soft but full of amusement.

Harry gulps down, pushing his glasses up his nose nervously. He desperately tries to think of a normal excuse, but he can only stutter his way through words:

"I- I'm just- I guess I'm just curious about—" he feels like he's choking on words so he stops, looking away, the red on his cheeks giving away how embarrased he feels.

Her eyebrows raise, but far from being offended like Harry suspected she would, she smiles. If anything, she looks mischievous.

"Do you want to taste it, Potter?" She asks, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Harry, ever oblivious, thinks it's just a tiny bit weird for her to offer her lipstick to him. But maybe she just finds it funny, so he simply agrees. "Yeah, I guess."

As she comes closer, he thinks she'll swipe some lipstick onto his lips. But then, she's stepping even closer and he's not sure he can even breathe. He finally understands what she was asking.

And before he can even think, she leans in— And kisses him. Soft, sweet. A simple press of lips, but Harry is so shocked into stillness that he doesn't think of doing anything, his heart racing.

When she pulls away, Harry's still frozen on his spot as her eyes flicker over his face, amusement shining through her expression.

"Well?" She asks, lips still so temptingly close to him. "Did you like it?"

Harry swallows thickly, and he has to stop himself from licking his lips as the cherry taste lingers on them.

"I—" he clears his throat, and he doesn’t even know where he gathers the confidence to keep talking. "I think I need to try it again. Just to be sure."

Her laugh is cut short by him pulling her by the waist to kiss her again, cherry lipstick melting against his lips.

The door creaks open almost an hour and a few more kisses later, and Snape walks back into the room, his face cold and unimpressed. Harry's just grateful they weren't caught, trying to act nonchalant and get his focus back on wiping down another table.

"Well, I expected a little more." Snape says as he surveys the room. "But at least you two managed not to destroy the classroom further. A miracle, truly."

While Harry hopes Snape doesn’t notice just out of it he is, y/n seems to be way better at keeping her cool, though he can swear he sees her trying to hide a smirk.

"I guess you're both dismissed, you can-" Snape interrupts himself once his eyes fall on Harry. "Potter, what is that on your lips?"

Harry's entire brain short-circuits. He could try to come up with some half-assed excuse, but— "Alright, Good night!" and then he's bolting out of the door.

y/n, much more composed, smiles at Snape as she walks pass him. "This was a lovely evening, professor" She says before casually following Harry out.

Snape doesn't have enough patience to try and find out what that was about.

Harry stumbles down the hallway, heart pounding, still flustered. It doesn’t take her too much time to catch up to him. "Leaving in a hurry, Potter?" She teases, her smile bright.

Harry groans, running a hand through his already messy hair—courtesy of y/n. "He was looking at me like he knew!"

"Oh he definitely knew." she hums, totally unbothered. "I mean, you did look suspicious with the whole— y'know." she gestures at his still stained lips.

He gapes at her, his cheeks burning. But he doesn't try to add anything else, his embarrasment still too big and his heart hammering in his chest as they walk side by side.

But when they're about to part ways, he can't help himself before he's blurting, "Go to hogsmeade with me this weekend."

For once, she seems taken by surprise, raising her eyebrows at him. "Like a date?"

He wasn't thinking about it as a date—well, he wasn't thinking at all to begin with. But the idea doesn’t sound bad at all. Who's he trying to trick? he really likes it.

"Yes, a date." He nods when he realizes she's still waiting for his reply.

She smiles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You can try strawberry lipstick next, see if you like it."

Harry laughs, definitely caught off guard. "Is that a yes?"

She's already strutting away from him, but she throws him a smile over her shoulder. "I'd love to, Harry."

Harry's heart jumps at the way she says his name, and he watches her walk away before he races up the stairs.

A few minutes later, when he bursts into his room, Ron immediately points at him. "Mate why are your lips so red?" he squints "is that lipstick on your cheek?"

He can only groan in response, dropping onto his bed and covering his face with his arm. He swears he could die right now.

But the stupid smile on his lipstick covered face? Yeah, he's definitely not getting rid of that anytime soon.

#𐙚 mari's fics #harry potter #harry potter series #harry potter books #harry potter fluff #harry potter x reader #one shot #fluff #hp fandom #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x you #harry james potter

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organic-bloodbath · 1 day ago

Note

Can you do a part three for Teach Ddakji to me plz

Teach Ddakji to me - Part 3

The Salesman x American!Reader

Summary: A stranger leads you towards unfolding the secrets of the man you've fallen in love with.

A/N: My people has been begging and i shall serve. Once again, i do not know what the hell i'm writing so i'm just vibing.

Part 1 - Part 2

♡♡

"I can explain," he said, putting the glasses and bottle on a side table. You kept holding the gun with your fingers.

"Yes?"

"It's only for protection, i promise," he insisted. "And it's not loaded."

You were silent, not sure exactly what to do or say.

He sighed. "When my dad was shot, i sort of got a gun to feel safer. He was killed in his own home, so getting a gun meant i could defend myself if anyone came here and tried to harm me as well."

You looked at him suspiciously, narrowing your eyes.

"I haven't used it, i swear," he promised, taking a step closer to you. You let out a sigh.

"Okay," you mumbled and shook your head. "Well, okay, i suppose."

He slowly put his hand on yours, grabbing the gun from your hold. You eventually let go of it and let him have it back.

"I can take it elsewhere if you're more comfortable then," he offered, afraid this was going to scare you away. You nodded and he went to take it to another room where you wouldn't have any business walking into.

You had never been a fan of guns. You knew people in the U.S. who had a gun at their homes but your family had never been one of those, as far as you were aware of.

You did feel bad and had sympathy for him the longer you thought about it. You couldn't imagine how bad trauma you would have if your own father was murdered, you didn't think you would be able to live anymore. You couldn't blame him for having sleepless nights and afraid for his own safety after that.

To be honest, if that happened to you, you would have gotten some sort of weapon into your home too, just in case someone would come after you too.

Soon he came back, a nervous look on his face now when he approached you slowly.

"Hopefully that didn't ruin the night?" he asked carefully and stepped in front of you.

"Do you have others in your house?" you asked. "Or like, anywhere?"

"That's the only one," he immediately swore.

He put his hand on your cheek and pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. His warm touch always managed to relax and calm you down, forget all the worries in the world for a moment. He looked at you with all his love and kindness in his eyes, and you knew you could trust him.

"Let's grab the wine, hm?"

"Okay."

♡♡

He was meant to keep his work a secret from you. You couldn't find out about what he really did, no. You would instantly leave him, that was for sure, and he didn't want to think about that possibility. He only had to come up with more and more lies - but for how long? How long could he really keep up this facade around you? He had turned his back away from you for only one moment at his house and you already managed to find one of his guns.

Or would you leave him? Would you be okay with it after all? It would be so much easier to be able to explain everything to you. But he also knew he had to keep the games secret from any outsiders who wouldn't take a part in the game.

The look on your face haunted his mind the next day as well. You had looked at him in a way like you didn't know who you were dating after all.

And for the most parts, you didn't.

The look on your face had told him loud enough that he couldn't tell you about his true self – not now or in a long time.

Along with that, he had felt someone watching him outside. He wasn't sure who it could be, but he was certain that he was being followed by someone and he didn't like that feeling at all.

He had to find out who was trying to shadow him.

♡♡

The three of you were supposed to go for a dinner together soon, but your brother had to cancel last minute and changed the plans for tomorrow, making you frustrated.

"I'm so sorry, something came up," he had texted. "Let's meet up tomorrow, okay?"

There was always something that 'came up' when you tried to make plans with him. You tried to question what he meant but he wouldn't tell you, preferring to stay all secretive to his sister.

As you were driving home in the car your friend had borrowed you to use for a week, you were falling into your thoughts a little too hard, not paying as much attention to your surroundings as a good and responsible driver should have. Sooner than you realised, you were stopped by a traffic cop and had to pull over.

You saw a man look at you through the window, motioning you to roll your window down.

He said something in Korean to you which you couldn't really understand. He switched to English as he figured you were a foreigner.

"License, please?"

You grabbed it from your purse and handed it to the man.

"You were speeding a little," he stated.

"I know, i'm really sorry, i wasn't thinking."

"I'll have to write you a ticket, miss," he said seriously.

"I know," you sighed and closed your eyes, laying your forehead against your hand. "I really am sorry, i didn't mean to."

"Are you feeling alright?" the cop asked, a hint of worry in his voice – but only a little bit.

"Yeah, yeah, no problem."

Truth to be told, you weren't entirely fine. You had slept only couple of hours and had drank almost an entire a bottle of wine last night. You weren't really hangover right now, just suffered from a bad headache, for which a painkiller hadn't helped.

"Are you sure you're able to drive further?" he tried to confirm, unsure if he should just let you go with the ticket without questioning you further.

"I'm sure," you said but didn't sound believable even to your own ears.

"Could you step out of the car, please?"

You let out a deep breath and opened the door, stepping outside. He stood right in front of you, trapping you between himself and the car. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket.

"Follow the light with your eyes."

You did as you were told, trying to act as cool as possible. You had been only once before pulled over on the road by a cop and that had been in America. You hadn't been sure if the protocols in Korea would be the same.

He turned the flashlight off and put it back into his pocket.

"Alright, you can go now," he nodded. Thank god he didn't actually believe you had been drunk driving.

Looking at his face closer, you could see that he was young and very handsome. If you weren't in a relationship and would have met him somewhere more... relaxed environment, you could imagine yourself starting a nice chat with him.

"Thank you, officer," you said politely in Korean before stepping back into the driver's seat, slipping the ticket into your purse. You tried to make atleast a little better impression with your poor Korean skills but weren't sure how correct the pronunciation really was.

"Have a good day, miss. And do pay your ticket on time."

♡♡

"Had a fun and eventful night with your man, i hope?" your roommate asked, one eyebrow up and teeth biting her lip to hide her smirk, failing on the simple task.

"Sure did," you answered and managed to make yourself smile. You wouldn't mention the gun part of the night to her, trying to brush the entire thing off your mind. "How about you? Found a hot guy at the club?"

"Oh, i definitely did," she answered. "He's some sort of a rapper, i think, though i had never heard of him. He gave me his phone number if we should catch up again some other day."

"Mhm, he gonna take you on a date?"

"Oh god no, all i want is to get into a bed with him again. He knows what he's doing," she stated seriously. "Besides, romantically i'm into more mature men, like that your hottie. Unfortunately you can't really find those men at the clubs where people our age go to."

Your roommate had met him a few times, but rather quickly, they hadn't had the chance to actually get to know each other since you didn't really bring him inside your apartment longer than a few minutes when he would come pick you up or bring you back home. But when he had met your roommate, he had acted as the most charming version of himself, like a man would act around a girl's parents when he'd meet them for the first time.

♡♡

"Okay, darling, i need to go to work for a few hours now to settle a few things," he said later that day as you were walking on the street together, his hand holding yours. He leaned down to kiss you on your lips.

"Come pick me up afterwards?" you asked with a smile.

"Of course, see you then," he smiled, pressing one more kiss on your lips, and turned his back to you, disappearing behind the next corner.

You took your phone from your pocket and was browsing a song on Spotify to listen to, until a man stopped you, stepping in front of you.

"Excuse me," the man said, making you turn around to face him. "You were with a man just a moment ago, dressed in a suit, right?"

"Um," you started, brows furrowed in confusion. "What's this about?"

"You were with a man in a suit?"

"Yes, but i-"

"Listen, i really need to find him. He's uh... a colleague of mine," he explained. "And i need to see him as soon as possible."

"Why do you need to see him?"

"We have some business to do. Work related," he quickly answered.

"Don't you have his phone number? Work phone or something?"

"I got a new phone and lost it."

"Just call to your workplace, maybe they can-"

"I don't have the time right now," he said, startling you with the tone of his voice. He noticed it and lowered his voice a little, not meaning to freak you out. "Could you just point the way, please?"

"Well, he didn't really say where he was going. Only that he had to go to work. Can't you meet him there?"

You narrowed your eyes, you could tell he acted very suspiciously. Did this man really know him? He had sounded so hesitant when telling how he knew him. Usually you weren't able to tell very easily when someone was lying to you, but right now even you could tell his behavior and reactions were too odd.

Besides, this guy was complete opposite than the man you knew, by the looks of him atleast. If they worked together and were on their way to work, you'd imagine this stranger would wear a suit too or something similar and cleaner.

♡♡

Gi-hun could tell that you were completely oblivious about the Recruiter or otherwise you were just a good actress to hide his secrets, refusing to tell his location. But you had looked completely lost with Gi-hun's approach to you and the talk about the man's work.

To be fair, he did probably look like a crazy person so he couldn't exactly blame you for not giving the information he so desperately needed.

Gi-hun hadn't thought about the Recruiter's private life, of course not, so it was strange to see a woman kiss him and hold his hand. He always seemed like only a pawn in this sick game to other people, since Gi-hun didn't even know his name either. The Recruiter always wore that same suit too, he felt like some sort of a default character in a game who had no proper development.

Which he basically was.

Gi-hun had lost his contact to the men he had hired to track down this man, until finally, his phone rang again.

♡♡

Of course you had grown too curious and suspicious about this stranger that you had to follow him wherever he was going.

Was it a good idea? Probably not, but you were still going to do it. It slowly started to rain, and of course you didn't carry an umbrella with you.

The man got a phone call, but you couldn't fully understand what he was saying since he spoke in Korean. You had studied Korean the best you could during the months you had been here and a little before you left America, but you couldn't translate complete conversations in your mind in just a few seconds. But you could hear some familiar words in the man's speech here and there. You could have probably understood more if he talked more slowly.

Where?

What?

Hotel?

Four?

The tone of his voice sounded panicked and rushed too, even more making you curious.

After a while he finished the call and put his phone back into his pocket. He started walking fast around the corner, soon starting to move faster and faster.

You quickly ran after him. You tried to make sure that he wouldn't see you if he happened to glance back over his shoulder, but you also couldn't lose the sight of him. You weren't exactly the fastest runner and would be out of breath soon, but luckily the distance to the destination wasn't too large.

Eventually, you ended up by a building, a hotel or hostel of some sorts. He went to the back of the building through a side alley, not entering through the front doors, which seemed to be locked by chains.

When you entered the hotel inside, you had lost the man, but you knew for sure that he had arrived here as well, right before you, so he couldn't be very far.

There was nobody else around, the place was totally empty, most of the lights were out and there were no sounds around you, forcing you to tiptoe even quieter not to make yourself known to anyone else possibly here. You didn't want a guard to find you trespassing, if there was one.

You started walking up the stairs, slowly and as quietly as possible, heart racing so fast you were afraid someone could hear it if they stood too close to you. You unintentionally held your breath as well out of this thick suspense what was going on.

Maybe this was completely unrelated to the man you loved. Maybe something else had come up with him and you were following a stranger somewhere private like a creep. Would this end up being a trap of some sorts?

Then, you heard speech somewhere in the fourth floor and walked towards the noise with even slower steps.

You were approaching one of the rooms where you heard two men talking to each other now much more clearly – the walls of this building seemed to be as thin as paper, since you had heard them already further away.

But then you noticed that the door wasn't closed, so you could easily open it without a sound and peek inside the room.

Two men were sitting at a table on the opposite sides, facing each other. It was that same man who had stopped you on the street. Your eyes widened on what you were witnessing right now.

He had a gun in his hand. It wasn't the same revolver which you had seen in his house.

"I used to work at the game too," he explained to the man with a calm voice. "Clearing and burning countless of bodies of people like you. I remember thinking: 'These things aren't human. They're just trash, they have no purpose in this world.' That's what i kept telling myself for a few years. One day they gave me a gun. I liked the way it felt. It was like someone had finally acknowledged my existence." He leaned back in his chair. "I don't know what year it was, but there was a man who lost, and i went over to shoot him. I recognised his face. Guess who it was?" He now leaned towards the man opposite him, his voice turning into a mere whisper, and you weren't sure if you heard it correctly or just imagined it. "My dad." You noticed a small smile lingering on his lips. "I was pointing the weapon at my very own father. And he begged me, tears in his eyes, to spare his life. You know what i did?" In under a second he lifted the gun and pointed it right towards the other man's face, who didn't even flinch. "I shot him right in the middle of his forehead and i realised: 'Huh, i guess i really am good at this'."

Your blood ran cold and all you wanted to do was to run away, but your legs refused to move at all. They shared a few more words but you couldn't concentrate on their conversation anymore. You felt like you weren't able to breathe. The ground beneath your feet was slowly failing you.

The next time you looked towards them, he pressed the gun on the man's forehead again, now actually pulling the trigger, making you slightly jump from the noise.

You were frozen on your place. What the hell were you supposed to do in this situation? Run away, confront them or call someone for help?

But as he moved the gun towards himself, inserting the gun deep inside his mouth, a playful smirk on his face, you had to act.

You tried to say something as you stepped towards the table from the shadows, finally able to make yourself move before he would be able to pull the trigger, but you couldn't get a word out of your mouth.

He let the gun slowly fall out of his mouth and his entire face turned pale like a ghost as he realised who had joined their little game. When his eyes met yours, you noticed something red on his cheek, and you instantly thought of it being someone else's blood, the same red splattered on the collar of his white shirt.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

This was the man who you had fallen in love with. A man who took you on sweet dates, took you into his warm embrace as you slept with him in the same bed, kissed you both softly and with passion... a man who opened up to you about his father's death and how someone had murdered him coldblood.

The murderer had been him all along. How could you be so naive and dumb? Had there been red flags which you had just missed?

Other than the damn gun at his house.

But now there sat only a man just couple of metres away from you who had just confessed on shooting his own father with his own gun. Pulling the trigger himself. And he had told it with a smile on his face.

He had lied to you this entire time. You wanted to shout and yell at him, then run away, but you couldn't move your body. Until he stood up.

Instantly, without hesitation you took a step back as he took one towards you, which made his heart break.

♡♡

A/N: I'm not sorry about the ending 🙂‍↔️ the last scene is obviously not 100% accurate to the show. Next part will take a while too so be patient with me 🫶🏻 if you want to be added or stay on the taglist, lmk.

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@k1ra-park3r

@aftersnrise

@sakurayashiro

@zmbiefiend

@preppyfella

#squid game imagine #squid game x reader #the salesman imagine #the salesman x reader #the salesman #the recruiter imagine #the recruiter x reader #the salesman x you #the recruiter x you

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urprettylildoe · 23 hours ago

Text

𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭 𝓬𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭 (𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵)

yandere anti-cupid × (fem) cupid reader.

Synopsis: you bring couples together and he breaks them apart. A rivalry ensues between the two of you. And while Vexian seems hellbent on destroying everything you've built, we often forget how close hate is to love...or perhaps obsession is a better term.

Contains: yandere thoughts/behaviour, mentions of side character death, blood.

Note: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY ANGELSSSS ♡ Sorry this came out after valentine's day! I was so busy but here it is. (Wrote this to make myself feel less single) but anyway enjoy!

♡

Strange dreams had been plaguing your mind. And not just any dreams, ones of him.

Vexian, an anti-cupid — whose favourite indulgence was picking apart people's relationships, watching them crumble under the pressure. A heart made of stone, and a head even harder.

Then there's you, a cupid. The embodiment of everything pure and happy, the very person who fosters love. Too sweet, too gullible.

A match made in heaven, right?

You would dream of lips caressing your skin like silk, whispers of sweet promises fanning over your ear. It felt all too real each time you shot up, covered in cold sweat.

But, this couldn't possibly be true. How could it when he glared at you like you were dirt on his shoe?

A being born from evil could not be capable of such tenderness.

♡

A lazy yet smug smile adorned Vexian's lips as he watched the couple quarel. It was music to his ears, humans unknowingly dancing to his tune like puppeteers.

He doesn't remember the last time there wasn't a hole gaping through his black soul. It was a bottomless pit of hunger. It was only satiated when he fed on heartbreak and grief, and even then it would crave more.

Whether he liked it or not, he had grown addicted to his guilty (or not so guilty) pleasure of having power.

One obstacle stood in the way of getting what he wanted: You. A pretty winged thing who scurried around with a cute arrow and bow, desperate to give everyone a taste of romance.

Too selfless for your own good.

"You're wasting your time, y'know." Vexian drawled, towering over you. The air surrounding the two of you was distorted and sizzling; it pulled you in yet made you uneasy.

"How am I wasting my time exactly?" Your brows furrowed, a pretty pout on your lips that was adorably frustrating.

He could crush you under his foot like a bug, but he doesn't want to. The game is much more fun that way. The silver cracks that ran through his otherwise perfect skin practically glowed. "It's funny, trying to fix things that were bound to break eventually." A finger reached out to twirl a strand of your bouncy hair around it, his thumb rubbing it.

He continued, "Emotions make you weak. They cloud your judgement and do nothing but disrupt the so-called peace you strive for."

Holding your chin high, you attempted a glare that could only do so much to rival the crazed intensity in his. "It makes people happy, though."

"That could only do so much in the long run," his eyes crinkled. "And I can't wait to watch you realise that."

As quickly as he appeared, he vanished.

Back then, you didn't realise that there was something lurking in his eyes while he looked at you.

Perhaps it came from his desire to prove you wrong.

Vexian did everything he could to watch everything you built fall so graciously to the ground. He meddled into all of your relationship, hoping for a disheartened expression. The only thing on your face was a small smile as you continued aiming your arrows at each and every person.

Something fluttered inside of him. You were so fascinating, even more than the night sky he liked to stare at.

He recalled those evenings where he'd come to your place to discourage you, only to find himself in a trance..

The moonlight streamed through the window, bathing you in an ethereal glow. Your lashes cast shadows on your cheekbones as you slept.

And Vexian couldn't bring himself to hurt you.

Other evenings he'd watch over you while you were out match-making, just to quell the storm inside of him.

Perhaps it grew more wild as he left things on your windowsill.

The anti-cupid finally found something new he could study. How could your spells counter his own? What did you have that he didn't?

A new kind of beast awoke inside him. If love was so powerful, then shouldn't he get to experience it firsthand? That sounded only fair.

Yet, he didn't want any kind of love.

No, he wanted yours.

♡

Disappointment washed over you, replacing any initial excitement. Why didn't your arrows work? Why did it turn love into something unrecognisable, monstrous?

All the couples you worked so hard on matching ended up hurting each other. Jealousy would rear its ugly head into their lives, and so would obsession right after.

No, no, you could not fail. This was your one purpose, your true reason for living. If you couldn't fulfill your job, what would you do? Where would you go? What if-

"Hey, hey, relax."

That velvety, haunting voice sounded so deceptively sweet, prompting you to look up into his eyes. For a moment, you were almost fooled...until his hand on your shoulder snapped you out of it.

You wrenched out of his grasp, jabbing a finger into his solid chest. "What did you do?"

He hummed, "I'm not sure what you're talking about, baby." The pure amusement in his voice practically gave it away.

"You did something to my arrows, I-I don't know what it is but you're ruining love." Your voice sounded strained with distress. It could only make him croon. You always gave and gave and gave to those pests, but never got anything in return. He plans to fix that.

Tweaking your arrows was rather easy. A little dark magic here and there then it all fell into place, like a perfect puzzle piece.

Feigning sadness, he sighed dramatically. "And here I thought you'd like what I prepared for you. I just altered it a teeny bit to perfection. After all, shouldn't the feeling of it consume you?"

You flail your arms in wild gestures, "no, it shouldn't."

"Oh?" Then why did he feel that way when he looked at you?

Before he could utter another remark, his gaze drifted over to where you had been staring before he arrived.

A measly man. Was he another one of your projects? Yes, that must be it. It's probably-

You turned to follow his gaze and you stared at the human...

...with hearts in your eyes.

His body froze up. The world around him spinned and the air thickened around him, crackling. He couldn't speak, couldn't think of anything else except you.

How dare you love another? Go against your morals? Lovers didn't betray each other, you knew that.

Fists clenching, he recoiled from your form but you didn't seem to notice, too entranced by the pathetic man. The gears started to turn in his head, jaw clenched.

No one should have your love. You should've noticed him, whose love burned brighter than the stars. But no matter, he will have your love. Vexian will be back soon enough.

After all, Valentine's day was approaching, right?

♡

14th of February.

Romance, love letters, sappy confessions, dates, all of it was on this fateful day.

You had a skip in your step, wings fluttering behind you as felt giddy about your favourite holiday. You got ready — adding a pretty gloss to your lips and a clip to your curls. You wore a short, white sundress for the occasion.

Things were going to be a bit different this year.

It was time you finally rewarded yourself on Valentine's — maybe a cupid could have a chance at love too?

Fluttering around your house, you looked for your bow and arrows. Could have sworn you put them on the vanity-!

They sat proudly, carefully, on the small kitchen table. There wasn't any time to ponder as you reached for them.

A large hand enclosed around yours.

Your breath hitched as the other arm wrapped around your other side, trapping you against the table.

Warm breath fanned over the nape of your neck, "Happy Valentine's day, my love." Vexian pressed a kiss to your temple, making your chest tighten. What is he doing?

The lack of response on your behalf only encouraged him to continue, "thought I'd bring you a gift. What kind of lover would I be if I didn't, hm?" You had half the mind to call him out, if it weren't for the supposed present being thrusted into your hands.

A white rose, dripping in crimson.

Your ears rang as the thorns prickled your skin, sending golden blood running down your hands. "What- I-I-"

Vexian hushed, smoothing down your hair, "Shh, baby. I got rid of that pest for us, aren't you happy?" The flower dropped to the ground. Pest, did he mean-

No, no, no. Not him. Please. Your quiet sobs wouldn't come close to the turmoil twisting your very organs around.

"Don't cry, Y/N." He cooed lovingly, cupping your chubby cheeks and squishing them together as tears ran down in streaks. This was a nightmare. A terrible one.

You managed to sputter, sobbing, "what have you done?"

His chuckle sounded more like a rumble in his chest, dark wings mocking your tiny ones that he's come to love so much. "What have I done? I made sure no one stood between us anymore." That only made you spiral deeper and deeper, drowning in your tears.

Sigh. "Baby, I understand your hesitation. You fear what you don't understand, right? I do not love like you do. I love like the moon loves the tides—pulling, controlling, devouring.” a soft smile has the audacity to grace his lips, "but the way I see it, you wouldn't need to worry about my loyalty. The devotion I have is eternal, unlike that human."

"He didn't do anything to you!" You bawled hysterically, both because of your demise and the man's. Your shaky hands reached up to grab his, trying to pull them off of you.

"Oh, but he did. He took your attention away, and that alone is unacceptable." He peered into your frightened eyes at such a close proximity, "but enough about him, I want to show my real gift."

Raising his hand, Vexian snapped his fingers. And the world around you spun before collapsing.

♡

You could finally look around, but this was not your home.

The luxuries surrounding you were hard to ignore — walls made out of marble stones and intricate carvings, jewels and expensive trinkets littered the room and a heavenly view was cast outside. This location was too peaceful, too relaxing, too perfect.

Realisation dawned on you that this was no ordinary place, but a palace. You almost forgot about Vexian if it wasn't for his warm hands placing themselves on your waist.

"Do you like it here?"

A sniffle escaped you as your gaze flickered up to him, "W-where are we?"

He spread his arms wide open, a cheek grin making its way onto his features. "Home."

"H-home?!" You repeated a moment after.

"Home," he confirmed. "I made this world for you, for us. Time is a bit different here, but other than that, everything you desire shall be at your feet."

Your body flinches at the impact of his words. This guy expected you to go running into his arms, didn't he?

You whisper softly, "No, I won't stay. What about my life back there?"

"You're still thinking about those pesky humans? Your only purpose right now is to accept my love," he stepped forward, pushing you down on the golden, silk sheets of the king-sized behind, hair spreading out beneath you like a halo.

Struggling under his grasp, you yelled. "And what makes you think I'll actually stay here?" You expected anger, but it never came. His gentleness was a contradiction to his existence, so much that you couldn't believe this was the same man who hated Valentine's day with a burning passion.

Silver eyes gleamed under his tousled locks of black, "you will, one way or another." Slowly, he extracted a blade, shushing your protesting cries with a peck on the nose.

You screamed and thrashed, trying to get him off. "You monster, let go of me!" Hands clawed at his chest, trying to free yourself. It was all in naught though as he pinned you down.

He cut his own palm then did the same to you. Then, he interwined your hands together — silver and gold mixing — before leaning down to kiss you. You turn your head to the side, only for him to grab the back of it and force you to look him in the eye.

"I've waited so, so long to do this. M'not wasting my chances, my love." His lips suddenly smashed down on yours, the kiss speaking volumes.

You tried to break free, but the spell was strong. Your resistance grew weaker and more futile. It was a silence to your pleas. You could no longer flee.

He pulls away, pupils dilated. Finally, you whisper softly, succumbing to your fate, "you don't understand love at all."

Pressing his forehead against yours, he smiled adoringly.

"Then teach me. After all, we have all eternity."

♡

Yours truly,

@urprettylildoe

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #writblr #writing #original story #male yandere oc #valentine's day #Yandere valentine's day #male yandere x reader #cupid #enemies to lovers #yandere story #yandere stories

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