#i love him very much i just also hate him

[nemesyaaa]

feel it coming // older!rafe x daughter's bff! reader

summary : you're maybe not a good friend but at least you're a good girl.

warnings : +18 content. strong age gap. smut. older man/younger girl dynamic. smoking. smut. p in v. oral (f. receiving). friend/dad betrayal. reader isn't guilty. sweet burns by cigarettes. lil fantasy. daughter's best friend trope. sir/young girl nicknames. be aware of the warning before reading.

author's note : none.

You were everything bad, the bad daughter, the bad friend, the bad girl, always needy or whimpering for everything. you were so envious of your best friend because her dad was so kind to her. that's the treatment you've been craving for and always wanted but never received. so you started to want this attention, always beingat the house of your best friend even if she was not there. knowing that rafe was divorced was also such a boost for you because you could act like his wife while no one was there. you were sweet and innocent like a flower, but also very young. the same age as his daughter. you could be her, but you were far better.

So you were at home so often, doing chores, acting sweet and caring. You took care of his laundry, you cooked his meals, you put his beers on the fridge to get them cold, you ironed and took care of his shirts, also, cleaning the house as if it were your own.

Since his ex-wife left, his daughter was somewhere with her boyfriend, you kept Rafe company. It wasn't a pity concern, but he was almost forty and he needed someone to take care of him, but more importantly, to be there for him. You were there for him, you might have done too much, but he never complained.

You were also there for his friends when he invited them over to watch the games at home, bringing new packs of beer and making sure they had enough to eat. You didn't hesitate to cook again, and when you were tired, Rafe would let you rest on his lap, ignoring his best friend's stare.

At first, Rafe wasn't really into corruption. You were fragile, sweet, and kind, so easy to manipulate and break. You were a dangerous temptation, his daughter's best friend. He hated the way your eyes were always tearful and innocent, begging not to be ignored. How was he supposed to care for you when you looked at him like that as such a nervous and little thing, so eager to satisfy and please him?

And you were so young. Literally born in the same year as his daughter. He could bet you were a virgin. How could he not corrupt you when he was already eager to teach you everything ? Was it an old man thing? The urge to teach you everything, how to kiss someone, how to pleasure yourself, how to make you feel good, how better you will be with him rather than the other guys ?

You caught him lost in thought on the front steps of the house, the perfect time to go see him. You held a beer in your hands that you had already capped and you came to sit on his lap with your favorite innocent expression.

He was smoking a cigarette, the smoke blowing over his face. You thought he was gorgeous, and it was unfair, this handsomeness as he was getting older. He was also so big; you could feel it just by sitting on his muscular legs. But also his shirts, which compressed around his muscles. And his hands, you loved playing with them, old man's hands. That was your weakness. They were strong and huge. The veins were large, but they were thicker when Rafe was groping at you.

His gaze fell on you, before he placed the burning end of his cigarette against your bare thigh. You cried out, hurt by the sudden pain of the burns.

"It hurts... really hurts!" You sniffed, as he gently mocked your pout.

"I know it hurts, baby. But It also hurts to see you wearing such vulgar clothes, because you're such an attention whore."

"So you're punishing me?"

He placed his cigarette against the inside of your thigh, watching the light quickly burning your skin. He showed you how short your skirt was by running the nicotine stick along your inner leg.

" It's not like you hate that. " he said while pressing the cigarette against the wet spot of your panties, exposing your sweet lie.

“ You like the pain. " He continued by dragging the stick against your clothed drenching folds, before slowly pushing down the burning side.

Your cooed noisily, your head turning over to the side of your shoulder. Your legs were trembling from the sensation. That was hurting but you wanted more.

" P-please..." You pleaded out, tears running down your cheeks while muffling your pain. “ S-s-stop...we can't do this outside. ”

“ Always bragging your slutty behavior and now acting ashamed about some invisible neighbors ? "

" What about your reputation ? "

" I can fuck who the fuck i want. " He said firmly, switching his place with yours to put himself between your legs.

“ But I'm very young..."

" Right ? " He carefully answered before his fingers slipped into your pussy. " Make sure they know how much then while I'm taking care of your pretty little cunt. “

Your cheeks heated. You know he was better than you at those kinds of things, his fingers were skilled enough to make you feel so good that soft moans were escaping your mouth. He was fingering you softly at the beginning, little and gentle strokes preparing your sweet core for his thicker cock. You loved everything about his hands, but damn, his fingers were insane, they knew how to please you. You can feel the huge ones brushing against the wetness of your hole, ramming back and forth until your slick hang agape everytime he was fucking you. You squirmed when the pad of his thumb played with your throbbing clit, drawing small circles, his skin rubbing gently the swollen bud, while your core was clenched hard around his fast digits.

When you were comfortable enough, his fingers took a quicker pace, speeding his movements so fast that your own hand reached without your consent against his to attempt a slower rhythm.

“ Do that again, and i will make sure all the town know what we're currently doing. ”

You removed your hand so fast and his smile widened over his lips. He was moving so rapidly inside you, the bump of his knuckle hitting you hard, squishy sounds of your pussy getting fucked brushing your ears. you should be ashamed for enjoying the feeling of your best friend’s dad stuffing your sopping core with his fingers, but also for being wet enough to hear your own arousal wetting his skin. that was such a suffocating and weird feeling. but you were fingered too dumb to bother, and it's not like you wanted him to stop. “ Stop thinking. You don't need anything to worry about. ” He said with a hoarse voice, as his thrusts got powerful.

“ You're such a bad friend, little girl. ” He murmured while pushing roughly his fingers in your insides.

“ Think you're a better person for fucking your daughter's friend ? ” You teased back, bucking your hips widely against his soaked hand. “ I never said i was a good friend, but i can be really good , sir. ”

He moved his thumb against your lips to trace the line of your mouth, and also for shushing you. Another little cry came from your eyes because of the sweet attention he gave you, so you kissed the pad of his thumb, before sucking it slowly, your tongue rolling sweetly against his skin. He watched you sucking his finger, getting him wet with saliva and spit, but also disappearing in the inside of your mouth, the gasp sound of your throat following every of your back and forth.

You were such a dangerous temptation, the one that made him lose his mind. You could break his whole world he wanted. But he was still fingering you, pumping his fingers in and out until your folded slick left soaked on his skin.

"Keep that for me," he said, placing his cigarette between your parted lips. "Careful, sweetheart. The ashes burn, but you already know that."

It was cruel to point out your pain, still slightly warm and unhealed. But before you could reply, his mouth traced the outline of your burns, tongue slid against the hot skin while placing small kisses on them, easing the suffocating pain of the heat.

"How does it feel?"

"B-better..." you cried out.

"But you're still crying. Aren't you tired of being a fucking crybaby?"

"You're the one that makes me cry!" you answered and twitched at the hold of his hand on your thigh.

"I'm the only one, yea. Keep this in that dumb mind." he corrected you before pushing his tongue between your walls.

You really had a hard time holding the cigarette between your lips while Rafe's was eating you. His breath was heavy and hot against your dripping cunt, as he was giving you fat licks, swiping all his tongue over your pussy and clit. he's pushing it deep down your core, making sure you feel him inside your walls, while gripping tightly at your hips to make you stay still. all his mouth was over you, sweet rubs from his nose against your clit while his tongue was lolling the inside of your pussy. his hand was resting in your inner thigh, as his face was literally buried against your cunt.

The swirls of his tongue against your folds was enough to make you shiver, and breath senseless. while he was eating you out, his face glistened with your own wetness, his chin coating at your arousal. the taste of your pussy was so sweet that his mouth was sticking to it. he was crazy with his licks and was making you arche widely on the chair. you felt so good, insanely good that it was impossible for you to not move your trembling legs.

The moment he was inside you, you lost it. His dick was huge. you weren't prepared for the fatness of his cock but you couldn't think about it longer because he was driving his whole length inside your cunt, running all his inches step by step on your walls. Since the day his wife left, Rafe haven't sex with someone. you were the first one after such a long time and how bad for you, because he needed to release all the frustration inside your hole. And your pussy was perfect for that, so tight and immaculate. He was the first one inside it and he made sure to leave his print. He was going back and forth, slamming his built hips against your skin. All his thrusts were insanely hard and merciless, running on your fucked core to the point of lefting you dazy.

He knows how to fuck you, because he literally dreamed about this moment since you entered the house. He wanted to fuck your little hole for so long, fisting his own throbbing dick on the bathroom while you were with his daughter on the living room, watching some stupid movies or in her room speaking about useless boys.

And as the sweetheart you always been, you always wanted to help him. With dishes, laundry, dinner, groceries and every domestic task.

But what if he needed you for more ?

And now, he had you. all for him. Squirming and moaning against his hefty body, trying to escape from his evil strokes but you couldn't. He wasn't okay with leaving you, and especially, when he has his full aching cock buried inside your soiled walls.

He was looking at you with no shame while pounding inside you. His phone buzzed on the little table. but he ignored it. All his attention was for you. And you smiled through the pleasurable pain, through the hot tears and falling ashes on your skin.

But the second after, your phone buzzed too. but you decided to ignore it too. it wasn't like you could do a single move, and you didn't want to. You knew damn well who it was, and Rafe too. But the two of you were fucking nasty on here too care.

You literally came on his dick, soaking all his driving length. It didn't take long for him to join you, and release his seeds over your pussy.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't make you pregnant. He had his own limits.

You kissed him on the mouth, making sure to have a taste of his lips before leaving. you always loved the feeling of his warm tongue against yours, and especially this time. after a long make out, his rough muscle was highly soak and limp, following the movements of yours.

“ I really want to be with you. " You confessed. "Your age gap is not that strong..."

“ Not that strong ? I’m the dad of your best friend, angel. I shouldn't be playing around with such a young thing like you . ”

“ She's not that special for making you a dad. I could do this too...if only next time, you accept to breed me…” You said playfully, biting so hard the bottom of your lip while looking at him.

" Don't be a brat. " he warned.

" Then don't force me to be. ”

“ I can't believe i fucked you few minutes ago. ”

“ Too old to trust that dick anymore huh ? ”

“ Yes, I'm old enough, sweetheart but not for your fucking mom, so if you don't want your best friend as your beloved sister, care to shut that bratty mouth of yours before I'm making sure you finally have someone to call dad in your life. Now, go take a shower.”

Sometimes, he could be so mean. And you hated it.

“I’m better than all the women you can have.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I already have such a good relationship with your daughter.”

He almost choked with his breath as he heard your answers, didn't know if you were serious with that fucking attitude.

"I swear, you're really fucked up in the mind, young girl."

“And it’s just the beginning, sir.”

“I thought you were kind of sweet and innocent but you finally showed me your true colors.”

“I just love you so much.” you admitted. “I don't want to let you go with someone else.”

“Why don’t you go around boys your age?”

“Will you let me fuck with stupid boys my age?”

"You're free to do as you want." he lied. “I’m not your man.”

“But I don’t want to be free.” you confessed. “I want to be yours, chained to you. ”

[moonstruckme]

Mae I have a lil request idea! Can I please get any of the boys with a gf whose inexperienced and she's super stressed about having sex (I just started being open to the idea of dating but I haven't been with anyone in 3+ years and I'm scared/nervous about sex now like what if they hate my body?? Or I suck??)

Thank you for requesting angel <3

cw: smut mdni, body insecurities, reader isn’t a virgin necessarily but is inexperienced

James Potter x afab!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re trying very hard not to think. To get swept up like you’ve heard you’re supposed to, and in fairness James is doing a very fine job of sweeping you. He’s all strong hands and wet mouth moving over the slopes of your face, your neck, your sides. He’s got your shirt off on one side to expose your shoulder, and you think it’s only a matter of time before the rest follows.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles. It’s believable when he sounds like this, almost drunk, like he can’t lift his lips from you for one second to get it out right.

You burrow your fingers in the curls at the back of his head and try to let yourself be swept. Your body reacts in all the right ways. You gasp, you arch, you throb. You feel the muscles of James’ back, let the friction of his knee between your thighs send electric frissions coursing through you. You relish the warmth of every point of contact and tell yourself that all is going perfectly.

It’s not enough. When James undoes your trousers and his fingers brush the fabric of your underwear, your head is all alarm bells.

You try to enjoy yourself through their wailing. It feels nice, the way he’s touching you. But oh god, what if he cares that you didn’t shave? Do adult men want a bare vagina? Or what if James wouldn’t like it bare, but what you have is too much for him? Is there a universally agreed upon pubic hair length you don’t know about?

The rest of your body is a whole other thing. James calls you beautiful, but he hasn’t seen all of you. What if he takes your clothes off and he doesn’t think so anymore? You know he’d never say anything cruel, but he’s still human, he can think it.

You don’t know what you’re doing. There are so many ways this could go wrong. Even if he’s fine with your body, you could still be too boring or try too hard or be too loud or too quiet or not move right. You could break his dick. There’s no way he’ll want to see you again after that. Not even James could be that forgiving. What if you mess all this up because of one stupid night?

Your heart pounds to the beat of what-if, louder and more insistent until you can’t take it.

“James.” You set a hand on his chest.

He makes a low sound, misinterpreting your hesitance as encouragement. His lips part over your shoulder, fingers teasing the elastic of your underwear. Your breath seizes.

“James.” You push a little this time. James takes the hint immediately, pulling back to look at you.

“Hm?” He blinks. You know his vision must be fuzzy, his glasses on the nightstand, but whatever he can see of your face makes his brows pull in and up in the middle of his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t shave,” you say.

James’ expression relaxes. For a second he looks like he might laugh at you, but presumably your obvious distress keeps him from it. “Okay,” he says, moving his hand a couple inches up from your underwear to run it over your stomach soothingly. “That’s fine, love, I don’t care. I’m a grown-up, I don’t need you to pretend you don’t grow hair.”

This comforts you, but only some.

“I just feel like I need to give you some disclaimers.”

Now James does laugh. It’s just a little one, soft, the way sunlight dapples through the shade of a tree canopy. “You don’t need to disclaim anything.” He kisses you, curved lips against your frowny ones. “But lay it on me, if you want to.”

“I just…” He keeps kissing you, and you speak in between. “Your pasta was really good, but I’m sort of bloated now.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“I also don’t have any, like, moves.”

It’s almost a giggle, the thing that vibrates against your lips. “Moves?”

“Yeah. I’m not exactly well versed in all this. I feel like I’m going to fuck it up.”

“Sweetheart.” James says it all warm and heavy, the sort of tone that usually portends him squishing your face in his hands. This time, he only kisses the tip of your nose with sticky fondness. “If you’re nervous, we don’t have to keep going, but none of these are things you need to worry about.”

You touch his wrist, stopping his hand rubbing your stomach. It sits patiently just below your navel.

“I don’t know what to do,” you say, earnest in the way James always manages to draw out of you. “I need a manual. What’s my job?”

“I promise you won’t need a manual,” he says, kissing you again. “Lovely, your only job is to feel good.”

You frown. “That seems sexist.”

“What?” He laughs. “It’s not sexist.”

“It’s not? You have a job and I don’t. Feels sexist to me.”

“I just told you, your job is to feel good. And it’s not sexist.” James’ mouth moves down to your neck. “It’s a beginner’s pass.”

You swallow as he finds a favored spot below your ear. “I just get that this once, then?”

James pauses for a moment. “Well, there’s also the I’m-in-love-with-you pass.”

“Oh?” Your voice is turning breathy. “What’s that one mean?”

“It means you get to do whatever you want, sweetheart.” He kisses that same spot over and over until you think you’ll go mad. “I’ll love it no matter what, because I love you.”

You give in with a soft whimpering sound. James hugs you close like he means to comfort you, and you take your trousers the rest of the way off yourself.

There are no holds barred after that. You let James put his hands or his mouth wherever he likes, and each time he checks in that something is okay you barely have the air to tell him yes. It feels different than you were expecting, different than anyone else in your history or imaginings, hot but gentle and good in a way that transcends what you thought the word to mean before.

James does get your clothes off, eventually, but you’re not alone in that regard. Being vulnerable with him feels more privileged than frightening then. You can’t believe you ever worried that these hands would find fault in you. You’ve never wanted anyone to touch you so badly as you want James to.

“I love you,” you murmur, against his chest, his cheek, into the hollow of his throat.

James says it back a dozen times. When he calls you beautiful, you know he means it.

[jobean12-blog]

Love Bug

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob Au)

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: You and your very busy husband are on a rare weekend getaway to your beach house when an unexpected house guest causes some trouble.

Author’s Note: this is for Missy’s @saiyanprincessswanie writing challenge! I did a Mob AU and used the prompt, “I would move mountains for you.” Thank you so much for hosting Missy! Love and hugs my friend🩷 The Mob AU part is subtle but hopefully you’ll feel it! Also, I personally hate these fuckers and if you’re interested to see what they look like, click here. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: soft fluff, fun, laughs, a scary bug, Bucky being sweet and cute, it’s mostly silly and domestic

PS this idea came about because I wrote THIS for Joel Miller the other day and I thought Bucky would be fun too! 🩷

You open your eyes and stare at the outstretched hand resting on your pillow. The simple gold band circling his left ring finger catches the light from the rising sun and it rivals the way the gold streaks along his metal arm shine and sparkle.

You reach up and place your hand in his and the firm bicep beneath your cheek flexes at your touch. He shifts behind you, tightening the arm at your waist and pressing the hardness between his legs against your back.

You really need to pee.

The steady in and out of his breathing warms the nape of your neck, every inch of his contoured chest rising and falling against your back, legs tangled together. It’s the most comfortable spot in the known Universe.

You still really need to pee.

But he rarely gets to sleep in, and you’re torn between the urge to close your eyes against the discomfort and trying to sneak off to the bathroom.

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you make the painful decision to disentangle yourself from your husband and slide out of bed, releasing a breath when he grumbles in his throat. You grab his discarded button down from the floor and slide it over your shoulders.

He rolls over in a bare-chested sprawl and goes back to breathing evenly, the sheet tented where it rests between his legs.

It takes everything in you to leave the bed, but you manage to slip away and into your en-suite bathroom. The large windows by the bath frame a view of the ocean, letting in the thick rays of the sun and highlighting the beauty of the marble flooring.

You’re momentarily distracted by the view so when you walk toward the toilet at first you don’t notice the large insect sitting just below it.

Right as you step onto the rug it moves and you catch sight of it out of the corner of your eye, letting out a high-pitched scream that would wake the neighbors if they were any closer than a mile away.

Bucky is out of bed and in the bathroom before you can even call his name, sheets tangled in his legs, hair wild and mussed from both your hands last night and the sleep that followed and a large knife in his hand.

“Doll?” he croaks out, staring at you wide eyed, body poised and ready to fight.

“It’s…,” you start, backing away slowly toward your husband. “Buck it’s one of those things. With the legs. Hairy looking.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his heart starting to return to a normal beat and his head clearing, but he doesn’t lower the knife.

There’s silence other than the sound of his breathing and you squeeze yourself behind him, hanging on to his forearms with a death grip.

Finally, he lowers the knife and exhales.

“Hairy legs?” he asks as he runs a hand through his hair.

“It’s by the toilet!” you whisper.

“I don’t see anything!” he says, squinting now.

“See, right there!” you point, still safely tucked behind him.

“Whe…? Oh yeah. I see him.”

It moves again and you let out a squeal of terror, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Get it Buck!!! Get ittttt!” you whine.

Your eyes are squeezed shut and your face is hidden against his back so when he starts to laugh you feel his body shake.

“THIS IS SO NOT FUNNY!” you hiss.

“I’m sorry doll face,” he says, turning to you. “But I ran in here thinking I’d have to kill someone.”

“Don’t take your eyes off it! We could lose it and then it’ll be living in here forever and get even bigger and and…”

His nose scrunches up and his eyes crinkle at the corners, more laughter erupting from his chest.

When he finally calms down he gives you a sympathetic look. “It’s ok baby doll. I’ll handle it but you’re gonna have to let go.”

You blink several times, expression blank. You look down at your fingers that are digging into his skin.

“Oh! Right, but…”

You peek around him to see if the centipede is still there…and he is, staring at you menacingly.

“I can’t let go. What if it comes over here. I hate the way they move.”

“Then you’ll have to come with me,” he says carefully.

You shake your head no.

“Baby doll.”

“We have to move. You can just buy us a new beach house!”

“Sure, I can,” he says with a sideways smile. “But you love this house.”

You sigh in defeat and cling to him harder.

“I have an idea,” he says softly as he scoops you into his arms and skirts the wall until he reaches the tub.

He sets you down inside it, the high sides and four brass feet keeping you safely off the ground and away from the centipede.

“There,” he says.

You give him a small smile and watch as he searches the bathroom, his eyes lighting up when they land on the small hand towel neatly folded and hanging by the sink.

“YOU CAN’T KILL IT BUCK!” you screech.

He pins you with an incredulous look.

“What did you expect me to do doll?”

“I don’t know but if you squish it then I’ll never be able to use that toilet again.”

You cover your eyes with your hands but separate two fingers to peek through.

His hand falls to his side as he surveys the bathroom again, then, as if suddenly remembering he has a knife, he lifts it and starts to stalk toward the toilet.

“OH MY GOD Bucky, you can’t stab it!”

“I can stab anything,” he says quietly, his voice deadly.

“But I don’t want you to kill it,” you reply in an equally quiet but much softer tone.

He stops moving and turns toward you slowly, exasperation in his expression but when your bottom lip sticks out in a pout he softens and relents.

“Then what should I use?” he asks.

The both of you look around and then your eyes land on the stack of cups near the sink and they brighten.

“Cups Buck!”

He smiles and gets one and with calculated and careful steps, he approaches the centipede.

You duck lower into the tub and make squeaky noises every time you see the insect twitch.

“Be careful Bucky!” you whisper shout.

“Shhh,” he says softly, the muscles in his bare back tense with his cautious movements.

When he’s close enough he slowly lowers the cup over the centipede, letting out a loud exhale when it appears he has it trapped.

“Now what?” you ask.

He stands and shrugs.

“I didn’t think that far ahead.”

You slowly rise from the tub and move closer to him. “Can we just leave it there?”

“It will definitely die.”

“Oh.”

“I could just step on the cup?”

You grab his hand, holding it tightly and shaking your head. “No. I don’t want to hurt it I just want it to live somewhere else, far away.”

“We can slide something under the cup.”

“Good idea,” you agree.

“Get me a magazine doll. That should work.”

You run back into the bedroom and grab one, returning with it to your safe spot behind Bucky.

He bends down and carefully slides the magazine under the cup.

“You’re butt looks really good,” you say with a giggle.

“Good to know you’re ogling my ass during this life-or-death situation doll face.”

“It’s just a centipede Buck.”

He’s on you before you can react, caging you against the sink with his arms.

“Just…a centipede? Says the one who screamed bloody murder ten minutes ago and had to hide in the tub.”

“I was just trying to pee! It could have attacked me at my most vulnerable time.”

He tries to hold back his laughter, but the corners of his mouth turn up and he drops his head into your neck.

“You’re going to put it outside right?” you ask as your fingers smooth up and down his back. “Like all the way across the street? Maybe the next town over?”

When his eyes meet yours they still sparkle with mirth and he cups your cheek, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone.

“Of course I will.”

“Thank you.”

“I would move mountains for you doll.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too Buck.”

He kisses you softly, his lips lingering before moving to the corner of your mouth and then along your jaw to meet the shell of your ear.

You shiver in his arms.

“I’m gonna take care of his little fucker,” he murmurs. “And while I do that I want you to get naked and get back in bed.”

Without and answer you squeeze out of his hold and rush back toward the bedroom, squealing when his left-hand whips out and smacks your ass.

You can’t wait to get back into bed but not before making a stop at one of the other four bathrooms down the hall (hopefully bug free!).

[dreamersparacosm]

under the checkered flag - epilogue blurb 1!

prompt ; in which your boyfriend, who’s normally all confidence, cockiness and self-assured, turns into a pouty, jealous mess when he remembers how much of a catch his girlfriend really is.

warnings ; unprotected sex, lil bit of oral (m recieving) (also this is not even a blurb. this is a whole ass story. also wrote this hungover so if there’s grammar errors… welp. idk how i got so ahead of myself pls help)

request ; linked here

part of the under the checkered flag universe

You’re not entirely sure why you agreed to this.

The room is packed: it’s loud, buzzing with conversation, glittering lights and expensive diamonds you could never dream of affording, filled with the kind of people who look like they walked off the cover of Vogue. Jungkook, of course, is in his element, shaking hands, flashing his signature grin, seamlessly weaving through the crowd like he was born for this.

Meanwhile, you are hiding behind him like a child.

“Baby,” Jungkook murmurs over his shoulder, amused. His hand rests against your hip, keeping you tucked close as he greets another executive, another industry legend who already knows exactly who he is. “You gonna say hi or just use me as a human shield all night?”

You huff, clutching onto the sleeve of his tailored suit, peeking past his shoulder just enough to offer a shy, “Hi.”

The older man chuckles, shaking his head. “Cute one you got there, Jungkook.”

Jungkook beams, unbothered. “I know, right?” His fingers tighten around your waist, clearly very proud of you, and he wants everyone in this room to know exactly who you are.

And, to be fair, they already do. Your face has been plastered across every media outlet since his last race a few weeks ago, the headlines barely able to contain themselves. “Jeon Jungkook Off The Market: Meet the Woman Who Stole His Heart.” Paparazzi shots of him running to you after his win, kissing you in front of thousands, wrapping you in his arms like you’re his greatest trophy. Really, it was getting a little overwhelming.

You smile up at him as the aforementioned man turns away to entertain another person “Why are you doing this?”

He bites back a smirk. “Doing what?”

“Introducing me to every single person like I’m some mystery. They know who I am, Jungkook.”

“Do they?” He grins, leaning down, voice dropping just enough for only you to hear. “Because I don’t think they know you’re the love of my life yet. Want me to make a bigger announcement?”

Your face bursts into flames. You slap his side, making him laugh as he pulls you closer, not letting you escape even an inch.

“Relax, my love.” He presses a kiss to your temple, warm, grounding, very much second nature now. “Just wanna show you off a little.”

You groan, burying your face in his shoulder. “I hate you.”

“Liar liar pants on fire.” He says it so easily, so confidently, because he’s right. You’re completely, stupidly in love with him actually. However, the worst part of that? So is everyone else in this damn room.

The buzz of the party hums around you as you trail behind Jungkook, hands still lightly clinging to his arm like it’s your lifeline. He doesn’t seem to mind, laughing lightly as he introduces you to every person who approaches, all the while keeping one eye on you, making sure you’re still there, still close. You’re the quiet one, always in the background, but tonight? You’re sticking to him like glue.

The chaos around you only adds to the sensation of feeling out of place, and your mind pulses with the need to break free for a moment.

“I’m gonna get some champagne,” You tug on his arm to get his attention, hoping he won’t follow, aching for just a second alone.

“Alright,” Jungkook says, winking at you. “Dont wander far, I’ll miss you too much.”

You roll your eyes, the slight teasing in his voice making you smile despite yourself.

And finally, with a little space between you two, you head for the bar, where the bartender is already pouring multiple glass of champagne, a brand you hardly recognize besides the times that Jungkook has sprayed it over your head in his locker room after a win. You grab one, thank him with a smile, clutching your drink tightly, letting the warmth of the alcohol loosen some of the tension in your shoulders. You lean against the bar, taking in a deep breath, trying to shake off the intensity of the room.

You shift slightly, your heels pinching the back of your feet. Even though Jungkook is across the room now, deep in conversation with some high-profile men, you can still feel him, like a phantom touch, like gravity pulling you toward him even from a distance.

You’re halfway through your first sip when someone leans in beside you. His voice is warm, easy-going.

“Is it safe to assume you’re with Jungkook?”

The voice comes from your right, definitely belonging to someone who’s good at conversation.

You glance up, blinking at the tall, well-dressed man beside you. He’s… handsome, you suppose. Friendly. Dressed in a navy suit, collar slightly open, drink in hand. Polished, but not in an obnoxious way. He leans against the bar with a casual kind of confidence, the kind of presence that blends in rather than commands the room.

“Yeah, I am,” you admit, still feeling a little shy. “I’m his… well, girlfriend. Sort of.”

He raises an eyebrow, amused. “Sort of? That’s an interesting answer.”

You huff a small laugh. “I mean, yes. I am. He just… likes making a big deal out of it.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” he chuckles, taking a slow sip of his drink. “I take it you’re not used to all this?”

You shake your head immediately. “Not even a little.”

He laughs, genuinely, like he understands. “I get it. These events can be overwhelming.”

You tilt your head slightly, curiosity creeping in. “You say that like you’ve been to a lot of them.”

He grins, and that’s when it clicks. You suddenly recognize him, the familiar face.

“Wait—” Your eyes widen. “You’re a driver too, right? You raced today.”

His smile turns a little playful. “I did. And I did alright, if I say so myself.”

“You placed third, didn’t you?”

He blinks, slightly impressed. “Didn’t expect you to know that.”

You blush slightly, shrugging. “Well… I may have learned a thing or two from Jungkook.”

“Ah, so he’s been turning you into a racing expert, huh?” He teases.

“Not even close,” You laugh, shaking your head. “But congratulations. Third place is still huge.”

“Thanks,” He says, tipping his glass toward you. “Though, I have to admit, Jungkook is damn near impossible to beat. The guy drives like he’s invincible.”

You smile softly, the kind of smile that only comes when someone you love is being praised. “Yeah… he does.”

“You must be proud of him.”

“I am.” The words fall out before you can second-guess them, before you can hide them behind your usual shyness.

That much, you know is true. You are proud of Jungkook, more than he’ll ever know.

The man watches you for a second, a knowing look flashing in his eyes. Then, he smiles, shaking his head slightly. “He’s got a good one.”

You tilt your head. “What do you mean?”

He gestures toward Jungkook, who’s across the room, entertaining the guests, bright and effortless. “I mean, it’s not every day you see him this… settled. The guy used to be a bit of a wildcard.”

Your stomach flutters. You know that. You know exactly who Jungkook was before you.

You swallow, about to respond, when his next words catch you off guard. “Though, I have to admit…” He leans in slightly, voice dropping just a bit, teasing but still measured. “It must be tough, standing next to him all the time, knowing you stand out. ”

You feel your heart skip, your fingers tightening around your glass. You’ve always been completely oblivious when it comes to flirting. It’s not intentional—you just never assume anyone would be interested in you like that. Compliments fly over your head, teasing remarks get brushed off as jokes, and subtle advances? You don’t even register them.

Even with Jungkook, it took months of playful taunts, agreeing to do whatever you wanted, and blatantly flirty texts before you even considered the possibility that he might actually like you. And now, standing here at the bar, faced with a man who is clearly steering the conversation into dangerously suggestive waters, you’re a little slow to catch up. The moment finally clicks a beat too late, the realization washing over you like a delayed shockwave—oh. He’s not just making conversation. He’s flirting. And you? You walked right into that trap.

You let out a soft laugh, playing with the hem of your dress, trying to ignore the way his words sit uncomfortably in your chest.

“I mean, yeah,” You say lightly, swirling the champagne in your glass, forcing yourself to play it cool. “Jungkook has a lot of eyes on him. That’s kind of the deal when you’re one of the best, right?”

You try to steer the conversation back to Jungkook, hoping it’ll naturally fizzle out, but he gives you a look. A slow, appreciative glance. The kind that lingers just long enough to make your stomach twist in anxiety.

“That’s true,” He muses, his voice casual. “But I think most people would be looking at you tonight.”

Goddamnit.

Your fingers grip the glass so roughly it might shatter in your hands as you blink at him, processing. You laugh again, but this time it’s a little awkward, a tad nervous, like you’re trying to buy yourself a moment to think.

And then, as naturally as breathing, you look for him. Jungkook.

Your eyes search the crowd, scanning past the fitting dresses and tailored suits, past the photographers and the industry elites, until they land on him.

Of course, he’s right at the center of it all.

He’s laughing, head thrown back slightly, looking so alive, so magnetic, exuding the kind of confidence that made the world fall in love with him (and you as well, for that matter.) His suit jacket is long gone, probably thrown off on the back of a chair somewhere, replaced with a perfectly tailored white button-up, his sleeves pushed up just enough to tease the tattoos running along his forearm. He looks stupidly good.

He’s glowing, genuinely happy, his eyes crinkling as he talks, hands gesturing animatedly, completely and utterly in his element.

You bite your lip, a new kind of frustration blooming in your chest. How is he over there, completely fine, while you’re over here trying to figure out how to escape this conversation without being rude? Why must the universe put you, of all people, in the ring of fire?

“So,” The driver’s voice pulls you back, making you blink and turn your attention back to him. “How did you and Jungkook even meet? I don’t think I ever heard the full story.”

You shift again, clearing your throat, desperate to reroute the conversation away from yourself. “Oh—uh, through work, sort of. It’s actually kind of funny—”

Focus. Focus on Jungkook. Keep it safe. Keep it neutral.

You take another sip in between your sentence, the champagne fizzling against your lips, but the tightness in your chest doesn’t ease. You keep your focus on the man, trying to steer every single word back to Jungkook. It’s a delicate balancing act, keeping the conversation polite while dodging every veiled compliment, every lingering glance, every slight shift in tone that threatens to turn friendly into flirtatious.

“Yeah, it’s kind of funny, actually,” you pick up where you left off, still trying to keep it collected. “I had no idea who Jungkook even was when we first met. Everyone was freaking out about him, and I was just..”

You pause, shaking your head with a soft laugh. “Well, completely clueless.”

He chuckles, leaning in slightly, interest still flickering behind his eyes. “And now you’re wearing his jacket, front and center at every race.”

“Guess I learned who he was real quick,” You joke, though your fingers tighten slightly around your glass.

He tilts his head, like he’s about to say something else, perhaps even heavier, when two warm hands slip around your waist. They’re firm, familiar. A voice, deep, steady, and close enough to feel the breath of it against your temple. “Didn’t realize you two were getting so close.”

You blink, your entire body reacting before your mind even processes it. His presence is instant, all-consuming. You barely have time to react before you feel him pull you back against him, his grip on your waist just tight enough to send a message. The warmth of his chest presses against your back, solid and unwavering.

And when you tilt your head slightly, looking up at who you know damn well is your boyfriend — Oh. Oh, he’s not happy.

His jaw is tight, his lips pressed into a firm line. His usual easy-going expression is replaced by something darker, sharper, a quiet intensity simmering behind his eyes.

The man clears his throat, shifting awkwardly. He knows. Everyone in this room knows. Hell, even the higher powers know better than to mess with Jungkook’s girl.

“Jungkook,” he greets, nodding slightly. “Good race today, man.”

Jungkook doesn’t move. Doesn’t nod. Doesn’t blink.

He just keeps his eyes on the man in front of you, expression unreadable, until he finally speaks.

“Yeah?” he muses, voice deceptively smooth. “Guess I’m lucky I had my girl with me.”

His hold on your waist tightens, just slightly, as if reinforcing the point.

Your pulse spikes, warmth creeping up your neck as you become painfully aware of how close he is.

You’re not usually the center of attention. But right now, you may as well be standing in the eye of a storm.

The tension lingers for a moment more. Jungkook’s hands are possessive, fingers pressing slightly into the fabric of your dress. His presence is impossible to ignore, a wall of warmth at your back, his cologne—deep, musky, with some woodsy notes—wrapping around you like a second layer of skin.

The man shifts, clearly picking up on the shift in atmosphere. Still, he offers an easy smile, nodding toward you.

“She’s beautiful,” he comments, like it’s the most obvious fact in the world. “Guess I can’t blame you for keeping her close.”

Jungkook hums smugly.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly, like he’s weighing his next words carefully. “Prettiest girl in the whole damn room.”

Your stomach flips violently, a cage of butterflies releasing themselves in your body. You’ll never get used to the way he speaks about you.

The driver gives one last chuckle, his eyes flicking between the two of you before wisely deciding to move along with his night. He excuses himself, raising his glass towards both of you before scurrying away as quick as his legs can take him.

And then it’s just you and Jungkook.

You exhale, not even realizing you had been holding your breath, still feeling the ghost of his touch on your waist.

You’re about to say something, but before you can, he turns to you, leans down, presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. The warmth of it spreads across your skin like wildfire.

He pulls back, just slightly, his lips hovering over your skin, his voice dropping into something quiet, “You really let that guy talk to you for that long?”

Your eyes widen. “What? I wasn’t—”

Jungkook pulls back, finally looking at you, and he’s pouting. Actually pouting. The 27 year old man. Lips jutted slightly, brows furrowed, his usual confidence slipping juuuust enough to reveal the jealousy simmering beneath. It might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

You can’t help it. You giggle, heart swelling in your chest.

“Jungkook,” You breathe out, leaning up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He grumbles something under his breath. You kiss him again, again… one more time for safe measures. Tiny, peppered kisses, soft and teasing, trailing across his cheek until you feel the tension in his shoulders start to ease. He exhales slowly, tilting his head, still acting like he’s suffered through the potato famine, furthering your agenda on the sassy man apocalypse.

“I just don’t get it,” he mutters, dramatic. “Why does everyone love you?”

You giggle again, nose brushing against his as you murmur, “Maybe because I’m soooo beautiful?”

Jungkook scoffs. “You think I don’t know that?”

And for the rest of the night, Jungkook doesn’t let you go. Not for a millisecond.

His arm is wrapped around your waist like an iron band, keeping you flush against his side as he guides you through the afterparty. He greets people, nods along to conversations, but his attention never fully strays from you.

Every so often, he leans down, his lips brushing against your temple, the shell of your ear, whispering things only for you.

“Having fun, pretty girl?”

“Gonna keep breaking hearts tonight, or am I enough attention for you?”

“Can’t believe you almost let some other guy steal you away. The blasphemy.”

You laugh every time, eyes sparkling, cheeks warm from the champagne and from the way his voice wraps around you like velvet.

By the time you’re finally in his car, it’s even more obvious.

The moment he pulls onto the empty streets, one hand gripping the wheel, the other immediately finds your thigh. You’re all giggles and smiles, alcohol-induced laughs spilling from your lips as you shift beneath his touch.

“You’re being so touchy,” You tease, voice teasing, light, dripping with warmth.

Jungkook barely glances at you, but you see the smirk pulling at his lips. “Don’t see you pulling my hand away.”

You roll your eyes, but your skin betrays you, heat pooling everywhere his fingertips graze. His thumb circles slowly, rubbing absentminded patterns into your thigh, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

“You’re ridiculous,” You mutter, biting back another laugh as you lean against the headrest, the world outside the car nothing but passing trees and shadows.

“And you’re also tipsy,” Jungkook counters, stealing a glance at you, his eyes dark, amused, playful.

He licks his lips, the silver of his piercing catching the streetlights, and you hate how mesmerizing it is.

“So?” you huff, crossing your arms in mock defense.

“So,” he drawls, fingers squeezing slightly around your thigh, watching with interest as you visibly react. “You’re all giggly and sweet right now, and I think I like it too much. My bad for wanting to get my hands on my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

God, the word rolls off him so easily it makes you dizzy.

“You like me all the time,” You poke his hand that’s on your thigh.

“Yeah, but I like you even more when you’re like this,” He plays with his lip ring as his eyes focus on the road.

You peek up at him through fluttering lashes, watching the way his jaw flexes, the way he glances at you just a little too long at a red light. And then, without thinking, you lean toward him, voice dropping into something soft, just shy of teasing. “You’re really that possessive, huh?”

Jungkook’s fingers flex, grip tightening, and for a split second, he looks like he might mount you in that car. “Oh, you have no idea.”

And, he proves it to you. The second his front door swings shut behind you, there’s barely a beat of silence before his lips crash onto yours. It’s immediate, it’s urgent, all-consuming from the tip of your scalp to your toes.

His hands are already on you, fingers digging into your hips, pulling you in like he’s been starving for this. You gasp against his mouth, the taste of champagne still lingering between you, and it makes you giggle yet again like a little high schooler. “Jungkook—”

“Mm,” He hums against your lips, not even bothering to let you finish.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy ,” You chortle in between, barely able to keep up with his pace. Jungkook groans, grinning against your lips before kissing you again, longer, slower.

“What did I tell you about calling me cute?” He mutters, voice low (definitely playing up the octave to seem even more menacing.)

“That it’s true?” You tease, bubbly from the way he won’t stop kissing you.

In a single swift motion, Jungkook grips your thighs and lifts you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and a squeal exits your mouth.

“Jungkook!” You yelp, arms looping around his neck in surprise. Except it’s really no surprise, because the man has made it clear he’ll throw you around like a rag-doll. He’s already moving, already carrying you toward the bedroom with so much ease your head is spinning.

“Tired of you running from me,” He murmurs, smiling cheek-to-cheek, his bunny teeth poking out as he shuffles quickly down the hall.

You can’t stop laughing, light and heady, fingers threading through his dark hair as he all but sprints the rest of the way. He nearly flings you onto the bed like you’re deadweight.

The laughter is still spilling from your lips when Jungkook slots your mouth with his again, swallowing every giggle, every teasing remark before it can fully form. He kisses you like he needs you to stay quiet, like he’s trying to erase every last trace of your playful remarks before they slip past your lips.

But, you are not letting him off that easy.

“You were so jealous tonight,” You whisper between kisses, smiling against his lips.

Jungkook groans, tilting his head back just slightly before diving back in, his mouth brushing yours in a way that feels punishing.“Maybe. Or maybe I was just passionate.”

You roll your eyes, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt as he leans into you.

“It was kinda hot,” You mock. “You couldn’t stand it, could you?”

Jungkook grumbles something under his breath, his fingers pressing into your waist, pulling you closer, as if kissing you harder will shut you up. But the moment his lips trail down to your jaw, your pulse leaping beneath his touch, you decide to take control.

In a swift motion, you push against his chest, sliding out from underneath him and standing up.

Jungkook stumbles back onto the bed, eyes wide for half a second before something darker, more intrigued, flickers through them.

You smirk down at him, your confidence surprising even yourself.

“Oh?” Jungkook muses, grinning as he props himself up on his elbows. “Taking charge today?”

You hum, sliding onto his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress as you settle yourself atop him.

“I think you need to be reminded,” You murmur, your fingers ghosting over the silver chain around his neck before trailing downward, nails grazing the buttons of his shirt.

“Of what?” He questions, eyes dark, eager, watching your every move.

You lower yourself, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, not quite kissing him, just kind of floating.

Slowly, with a purpose, you start kissing down his jaw and the column of his throat. “That I’m all yours,” You whisper against his skin, letting your lips brush over him with every word.

“All mine?” His voice is rough, strained, his fingers practically imprinting upon your skin. He needs to hear it again.

You pull back slightly, rolling your eyes just a little. The man knows very well you’re all his, but the desperation in his voice has you a little more soaked than you’d like to admit.

“Yes, baby,” You breathe out, cupping his face, your thumbs brushing over the faint pink tinge dusting his cheeks. “All yours.”

Now, Jungkook has seen many sides of you. The quiet, reserved girl who hides behind him at events, the sweet and hesitant thing who blushed at every flirty remark he threw your way, the one who overthought every touch, every glance, every lingering silence between you. However, that’s not to say he’s not thoroughly enjoying how unbelievably attractive you looked sitting on top of him.

The girl—the one who is straddling his lap, fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, murmuring sinful things in that soft, teasing tone, the heat of breath sending shockwaves straight through him—he does not recognize.

His heartbeat pounds in his ears, blood rushing to his cock. He can hardly breathe or think, all logic stripped away. Jungkook watches, wind knocked out of him, as you shift in his lap, your hips rolling against the growing bulge in his pants. He is ever the patient man; almost as if he wants to see how far you’ll take it.

He continues to stare as your fingers reach behind you, tugging at the zipper of your dress, the soft fabric peeling away from your shoulders, slipping lower, revealing more, more…more. Good lord.

The room is silent except for the soft rustle of fabric, the faint collective gasp in his breath as your dress pools around your waist, leaving your bare skin kissed by the golden lamp light in the room. Jungkook is entranced, his pupils dark. He’s still propped up on his elbows, yet he’s barely keeping himself upright.

Your body is soft curves and slow movements, every roll of your hips against him smoother, more confident than the last, every movement calculated and precise .

His head tips back against the mattress, his long lashes fluttering, his cock throbbing beneath the confines of his pants. Just when he thinks he might combust, you lean down, your lips hovering near his ear, whispering something he doesn’t even hear properly through the haze in his mind. He doesn’t even know what language you’re speaking.

Every teasing shift of your body against his, every brush of bare skin against fabric is driving him to the brink of insanity.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Your hands trail up his chest, slowly undoing every button, nails barely scratching the heated skin beneath his shirt. Your jaw slightly drops as you let out a soft, needy whimper, a sound so devastating it makes his cock twitch beneath his slacks. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

Jungkook’s resolve crumbles, and his hand flies up, fingers wrapping around your jaw. He tilts your face toward his, making sure you see him. His eyes are feral, his pupils so black and wide they nearly swallow you whole. “Want my cock in your mouth.”

The words send a bolt of heat straight to your core, your body clenching instinctively. There is a small part of you that’s not all that experienced, despite your past boyfriend and you having sexual experiences. It’s just.. different with Jungkook. You think he expects more, although he tells you he doesn’t. But you’ll do your best for him, like you always do.

He moves up, sitting against the headboard, and you wiggle down, your lips parting just slightly, like you’re already imagining how he’ll feel pushing past them, how he’ll taste on your tongue, which you 100% are.

Your fingers work slowly, methodically, undoing the zipper of his slacks with a deliberate precision that has Jungkook shaking beneath you.

The sound of the zipper unfurling is deafening in the quiet room, drowned only by the unsteady rhythm of his breath, the way it stutters every time your fingers brush against him, every time you shift or press a kiss just a little lower. The man is putty in your hands.

You slip his pants down his thighs, fabric pooling around his ankles, and you throw them somewhere in the room; it doesn’t even matter. What matters is beneath them, he is hard, aching, straining against the waistband of his boxers, the fabric doing nothing to hide just how much he needs you, letting you take control while he teeters on the edge of losing it completely.

Your lips press softly to the fabric, your breath warm, your hands gliding up his thighs, fingertips tracing the defined muscles there, feeling the way they tense under your touch, how they twitch with anticipation.

Jungkook watches you, his dark lashes heavy, his chest rising and falling too quickly. He gathers your hair for you gently, fingers running through the strands, pushing them away from your face, tucking them behind your ears, cradling the back of your head, making sure he can see you completely.

For the first time in a long time, you want to be seen.

You want him to watch as you shift, as you lean back, as you slowly kick off your dress, letting it slip down the length of your body, letting it pool onto the floor in a forgotten heap, leaving you bare and exposed.

The black lingerie set you had worn underneath is still intact, a stunning contrast against your skin, the delicate lace barely covering anything at all, making you feel utterly unbreakable under his gaze.

You finally pull his boxers down. His cock springs free, the thickness of it always making you gulp. It’s flushed an angry shade of red, the tip glistening with precum, leaking and throbbing.

You swallow, your mouth already watering, your thighs pressing together as you wrap your fingers around him, feeling the weight of him in your palm. “F-fuck, baby,” Jungkook gasps, his head tipping back against the headboard, his hands gripping your hair tightly.

You stroke him slowly, taking your time, watching every little reaction, fascinated by how his body responds to you, by how his hips barely lift off the bed, chasing your warmth, chasing more. There’s normally a slight hesitation from you, but between the mix of the champagne and how fucking good he looks, you lean in. The first kitten lick to his tip is tentative, barely a flick of your tongue, just a taste.

Jungkook groans, his body jerking, “Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, his voice shaking, his grip trembling against your scalp.

You hum softly, the sound vibrating against him, your lips parting slightly, your tongue flattening against the tip this time, lapping up the bead of precum that had gathered there, savoring the salty, musky taste of him on your tongue.

“That’s it, baby, fuck, so good,” Jungkook moans, his thighs tensing, his abs clenching, eyes screwing shut, then flickering open again, desperate to watch you, desperate to see you taking him, loving him, making him fall apart in the most beautiful way possible.

His praise makes you braver, makes you bolder, makes you want to see him even more undone, even more at your mercy. You press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his tip, feeling him pulse beneath your lips, hearing the way he gasps sharply.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He whispers, his voice awe-struck that you’re letting him have this piece of you.

His cock is heavy, filling your mouth so perfectly, stretching your lips as you slowly bob your head, taking in as much as you can. You feel the weight of him glide over your tongue, your throat relaxing, your jaw straining in the best way possible.

“Shit, baby,” Jungkook groans. You’ve always loved how vocal he gets for you.

You steal a glance up at him, and that’s when your eyes meet. His gaze is so dark, pupils blown out, his lips parted, damp. The moment he catches your heavy-lidded, pleading stare, something in him breaks like a live-wire.

“F-fuck,” He chokes out, his abs flexing as his breath breaks. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

You get the urge to keep going, faster now, the wet, lewd sounds of your mouth working him filling the room. Your tongue flattens along the underside of his cock, the heat of your mouth searing, your hand wrapping around the length that won’t fit, pumping in time with your movements.

“So, so good, so fucking good,” He pants, voice cracking like a prepubescent boy, his self-control hanging by a thread.

You feel it when he starts to twitch on your tongue, when his hips stutter, when his grip tightens, when he pulls your hair just slightly, as if he’s trying to stop himself from spiraling completely.

“Shit, fuck, wait—” He pulls you off him suddenly, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva still connecting you. Your lips are swollen and glossy, your breath ragged as you look up at him, dazed and a tad cock-drunk.

“But…” You sigh, your voice small, your fingers still gripping his length, feeling the way he pulses in your palm. “I wanted to keep going.”

Jungkook groans, pulling you up onto his lap where he needs you most. His lips find your cheeks first, then your nose, your forehead, your jawline, kissing you everywhere, like he’s seconds away from breaking.

“I know, baby, I know,” He pants, barely coherent. Before you know it, he’s positioning you, guiding you to straddle him, to let him sink inside you where he belongs. “But I need you to sit on my cock, baby, please.”

His forehead presses against yours, his lips brushing against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Need to feel you, need to be inside you.”

You whimper against him, the words sending a shudder through your body. Your core throbs and aches for him, whole body on fire like you’ll die if you don’t have him.

You align yourself, rolling your hips just slightly and letting his tip press against your folds. You glide it through your slick, coating him in you. It’s disgusting how aroused you are by him, but there’s comfort in knowing he feels the same way about you.

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and your head tilts back, your mouth falling open, a soft, breathless moan slipping past your lips as the friction sparks along every nerve in your body.

Jungkook is completely gone, eyes glued to where your bodies meet, his jaw clenched so tight. He’s doing everything in his power to not completely lose control before he even gets inside you.

You sink down, slow, so slow, inch by inch, your walls stretching and molding to accommodate him.

The moment his thick length pushes inside, Jungkook groans, low and broken, while he holds you steady. The slide feels endless, like it always does, stretching you out like you’ve never taken him before, and he’s still struggling to ground himself, trying not to explode right then and there.

“Oh, f-fuck,” He hisses, his thighs tensing beneath you, his muscles coiling so tightly. He’s barely keeping himself from thrusting up into you, from taking what he wants, from losing himself in you completely.

You are getting split in half. Or, it feels like it. Your walls squeeze around him, your body shuddering.

“That’s it, baby,” he pants, his voice low, as his fingers trail up your spine. “Taking me so f-fucking well, feel so good, so tight.”

You only really sit comfortably when your clit presses against his pubic bone, when he is fully, completely inside you, when his cock is buried to the hilt, stretching you so perfectly, so devastatingly deep that it feels like he’s become a part of you.

“Oh my fucking god,” He chokes out, his grip on you bruising, completely lost in the feeling of you milking him already, pulling him in deeper, deeper, deeper. “I almost, fuck, I almost came just from that—”

The thought of it, the idea that you could make him cum just from sinking onto him, has your brain on autopilot.

You start to move, hips rolling in smooth undulations, dragging yourself up his length, feeling every ridge, every inch, before sinking down again. It’s a steady rhythm, one that has you both gasping for air.

But you don’t let him look away from you.

Nails pressing into his shoulder blades, you keep him anchored to you, your body flush against his. You tilt his face back up, your lips ghosting over his. The eye contact sends a shudder through him, his pupils blown wide, begging without words.

“You’re mine,” You murmur, your voice soft but firm, dripping with possession. Your hands trail up to cup his face, holding him there, making sure he hears you.

“Yeah?” he pants, his voice slightly slurred and drenched in adoration “Show me, baby. Let me feel it.”

Your walls squeeze him with every movement, every drag of your hips. And it’s all too much: his cock reaching even deeper, grazing that spot that paints stars in your vision.

“You’re so fucking good to me,” He groans, his voice choked, eyes desperate.

Your hands slide into his hair, tugging slightly, and he whimpers, his lips grazing over you, kissing wherever he can reach, mouthing at your skin. “All yours, baby, fuck. No one else, just you.”

Your heart swells, his jealousy from earlier feeling so distant, so insignificant, when he’s begging for you like this.

“Mine,” you whisper again, your lips ghosting over his ear, your hips picking up the pace, making him writhe beneath you.“Always fucking mine.”

Jungkook shudders, “Yours, baby.” And the words are just being repeated over and over like babbles, barely coherent to either of you as the feeling of being full by him overtakes all.

His hands lift you slightly, just enough for you to feel the drag of his cock leaving you, before he pulls you back down, filling you again in one smooth, deep motion. You cry out, your walls fluttering around him, the pace shifting from teasing to something more consuming, more needy.

“That’s it, baby,” he mumbles, his hips meeting yours now, pushing deeper, guiding you exactly how he wants you. “Just like that, ride me just like that.”

“Kook,” You whimper, nearly shaking, nearly crying from how good it feels, your hands sliding down to press against his chest.

You’re practically soaking him, your slick glistening at the base of his cock, collecting there, and he might need to be put in a mental institution after catching sight of it.

“Look at what you’re doing to me,” His eyes lock onto yours, hand slightly moving your face to avert your gaze elsewhere. You glance down, and fuck, he’s right. He’s glistening, his cock shiny with your arousal. Every time he pushes back inside, there’s more slick coating his length, dripping onto his thighs, pooling at the base of him like a sinful masterpiece.

“You feel that, baby?” he whines,“This is all yours.”

Everything becomes messier, sloppier, you’re not even sure where you are anymore. Jungkook is barely holding on, his thrusts erratic, his hands tight on your waist, slamming your hips down over and over again.

Your walls are fluttering, pulsing around him, the pleasure so intensethat you can barely even think or form any thought that isn’t jumbled.

“Jungkook, fuck,” You sob, your body jolting forward every time he drives into you, every time he hits that perfect spot inside you, over and over and over again.

“I got you, baby, fuck, I got you.” And then you really can’t take it anymore when he says things like that. Your hand flies between your legs, fingers pressing to your clit, rubbing furiously. You’re trying to tip yourself over the edge, trying to chase the orgasm that is so close, building like a wave, curling at the base of your spine, ready to crash over you at any second.

Jungkook watches, lips slightly parted. He can’t tear him away from the way you touch yourself, how you look so absolutely fucked out on top of him.

“You gonna cum for me, hmph? Hm, baby?” His words send a shockwave through you, his pace stuttering for just a second before he pounds up into you without a single ounce of restraint left.

“Fuck!” You cry out, your release inevitably waiting for you. Jungkook grins, knowing how close you are, already used to how you look when you finish.

The pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in pure, white-hot ecstasy. Your entire body locks up, breaking apart as your orgasm rips through you with violent force.

“Oh, Jungkook,” Your walls are squeezing around him so tight it nearly forces him out, your head tipping back, mouth falling open, but no sound coming out. Your fingers slip from your clit as your body gives out, but Jungkook doesn’t stop. His hands are locked onto your waist, his hips still driving up into you, prolonging your orgasm, forcing you to ride it out until you’re whimpering.

“Holy fuck, squeezing me so tight,” He’s shaking with restraint, his muscles taut.

Watching you fall apart like this, feeling your walls clench around him like a vice, holding him, owning him, milking him—it’s a lot.

Jungkook grits his teeth, his grip on your waist turning bruising, his chest rising and falling in frantic, erratic pants as his orgasm hits him like a fucking wrecking ball.

“Fuck, mineminemine,” He gasps, and for the first time since you two started dating, he doesn’t ask for permission to finish inside of you. Doesn’t wait for your sweet little nod, your usual whispered “yes” into his ear.

No, not tonight. Tonight, he needs to claim you, needs to remind you, remind himself that no one else is going to have you.

Tonight, he slams you down onto his cock one final time, burying himself as deep as he can go, he spills inside you, filling you up.

“Take all of it, baby,” He gasps, his hips jerking up, riding out his high. Your bodies tremble together, both of you completely wrecked. Yet still, he stays inside you. Still buried to the hilt, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against his sweaty body. His lips press lazy, open-mouthed kisses to your temple, your collarbone.

The room bathes in the warm afterglow of post-sex air. Your limbs are tangled with his as you lay with your head sprawled across his chest, his heartbeat still hammering beneath your ear. For a long moment, neither of you speak. Just deep, ragged breaths. The faint hum of the city outside. The lingering warmth of his hands tracing slow, absentminded patterns across your bare back.

“So… still wanna deny how jealous you were tonight?” You laugh, the words muffled slightly against his skin.

Jungkook groans, his arms tightening around you instinctively. “Don’t start.”

You grin, tilting your head slightly to catch the faint pink creeping up his ears.

“No, but really,” you hum, your fingers lazily tracing the chain around his neck, feeling invincible. “You almost lost your mind over a five-minute conversation. Kind of insane, actually.”

Jungkook lets out a low, gravelly laugh, the sound vibrating through your ears. “You don’t understand how fucking attractive you are. Seriously.”

“Jungkook—”

“No, really,” he kisses your forehead, watching you so intently you feel like he’s seeing right through you. “You walk into a room and I lose my goddamn mind. Every single time. You could have anyone, and yet… you chose me.”

He exhales slowly, lips brushing against your forehead in a way that feels so domestic. You don’t know what to say to that, so you sit with the words for a minute, let them reverberate through your chest. And it almost feels like your chest can’t contain it, like the pressure is building too fast, too much, like your ribs might crack beneath the weight of it. Behind them, your heart swells, expanding at least three sizes larger than its usual.

You pull him back down, lips curving into a soft smile as you kiss him again. “Always gonna choose you, Kook.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

[xazse]

please can i request hybrid kitten reader being taken in by snow leopard Satoru and panther Suguru. could be something like they both assimilated into regular society while living together and they found reader fending for themselves on the street after being abandoned and kicked out by their owner for misbehaving and being mischievous (she's just playful and needs company it was the owner's fault for leaving her alone at home all the time). could you include brat taming and a threesome between them?

its my first time requesting i love your hybrid works sm 🫶🏻 it scratches an itch i didnt know i had and i even read the ones im not into

Warnings: Hybrids + BratTaming + threesome + smut + manhandling + pussy-spanking + crying + orgasm denial + cumming inside + mentions of pregnancy + SatoSugu are a bit mean in this one. + hybrids

Pairings: CatHybrid!Reader x SnowLeopard!Satoru x PantherHybrid!Suguru

Notes: I hope you enjoy! I apologize for this taking so long! I had fun writing this 😈 I’m so happy to be your first request I really do hope you see this! Please give me a message or something if you do!!

You didn’t expect to be picked up one day, showered, clothed and fed till it looked like your stomach could pop out but it had happened. You went from trudging down the street in dirty garments garnering dirty looks from humans who didn’t understand your predicament, you hated the way they looked at you like you were gum on their shoe. A disgusting spec on the world.

It wasn’t until you met Suguru who found you digging through a trash can in some random alleyway, it was like an angel extending its hand, A very beautiful one, one who probably knew the hardships you had suffered though.

He had listened to your story in that alleyway, spared you his ear and eyes with not a hint of malice or some ulterior motive.

He also shared his story of being a “predator” in this unfair unbalanced world, Suguru held himself in such a way that you couldn’t believe people had even thought he was anything but the kindest man to grace this earth.

Satoru you learn, has his ups and downs but besides he also treated with the utmost respect and care, taking care of you in his own funny ways. Satoru being a Leopard made things easier for you they’re usually upbeat in some way so it wasn’t hard for you to get comfortable in their warm home.

You adjusted very well to the both of them, adapted to their lives and sunk into their company. They think it worked a little too well.

Suguru had asked you to do something very simple, something small, he never really asks you to do much around the house so he doesn’t think anything of it, what he doesn’t expect is you huffing under your breath and waving him off, simply telling him to “get Satoru to do it.” He’s stunned where he stands in the kitchen.

The next issue arises when you’re playing with Satoru, something you do on the regular because you know how much he loves the chase. When he pins you down you take the opportunity to bite him, you’ve already had Suguru and Satoru talk to you about your biting habits, so you know you’re not meant to do that, Satoru is the one left staring at the glaring mark on his arm and when he tries to scold you, you’re already walking into your shared bedroom and plopping on that game. Not even bothering with an apology.

You destroy expensive vases, plates all in the name of fun, scolding you and telling you to stop doesn’t work anymore. It just seems to make your behavior even more annoying.

Suguru is the more calmer one between him and Satoru, he had let the biting incident go rather easily, but Suguru hadn’t, he thinks he’s the calm and level headed one but apparently not. He comes home from a stressful exhausting day he wants to do nothing more than cuddle up with you and Satoru in bed.

When hes a few steps into the apartment, he’s greeted by his couches, his expensive personally manufactured couches scratched up, not light scratches either those were made there with a bad intent, and he sees you laying on that same couch, facing the ceiling, sleeping without a care in the world, he’s fucking livid.

He drops his office gear and beelines straight for the couch, straight for you, he yanks you off of his couch and a sleepy you is extremely confused.

He doesn’t spare you any words, all you see is his broad back dragging you to your shared bedroom, he throws you down in the middle of the bed with a thud and now do you get to see his angry expression, there’s not an ounce of forgiveness in there, it burns red. You know what you’ve done and yet all you want to do is push him further.

You tiptoe over that already small line and innocently ask him what’s got him so worked up.

Satoru unlocks the door and is greeted by noises, noises he can’t quite makeout yet but stepping his clothed foot further into the home he senses it’s you, he makes his way to the bedroom and slowly opens the door.

It’s like it’s straight from a porno, you’re spread out on the bed in all your glory: naked and covered in a light sheen of sweat. Suguru is sat leaned against the headboard as he abuses your poor cunt with a dildo, you’re holding onto his thick arm begging him to slow down just a little, your eyes are filled to the brim with tears and tears that are already dried up on your face.

“s’too much guru… ple-“ you can’t even finish your plead for release because Suguru is slamming the dildo right against your spot directly. Satoru can see bite marks decorating Suguru’s arms, you’ve been uselessly doing that to no avail. Still acting so bratty even during your punishment.

You see Satoru and try to call out for him in the sweetest voice you can muster, you know the leopard has a soft spot for you but in this moment it goes in one ear and out the other. Suguru spanks your swollen clit and scolds you for even thinking Satoru could help you.

Suguru doesn’t notice but Satoru sees the way your cute hole clenches, oh?

You’ve clearly been waiting for one of them to break and Suguru was the first to fold.

Satoru can no longer stare, he’s been grabbing and pawing with his cock ever since he’d seen the way your pussy swallows the dildo with not much fight. The way your wet cunt is practically soaking and dripping onto the bed.

He makes his way towards the bed, discarding his clothes on the way till he’s only in his boxers, his ears stand at full attention, listening to every squelch and nasty noise you and your pussy make.

He knows in the end you probably want cock but looking at an ever so serious Suguru he knows that’s not what you will be getting tonight, so Satoru latches onto your nipples, swirling the buds in his mouth, popping off of them just to slurp them right back into his mouth.

He swirls his long fingers around your clit, furthering your torture.

It’s not until about three hours later, you cockdrunk on the two cocks that sit nicely in your pussy, it wasn’t easy but you’d find it, you’d expected to be praised for such an achievement but nothing from either man had come out, their poor kitty left mewling in pleasure but no release just yet.

You beg to just cum once, just once but they ignore you, they chase their orgasms multiple times that night, filling your already full cunt with more of them, potentially even their little babies, that should settle you down for a while.

[likeumeanit9497]

shut your mouth | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt hates (loves) crazy girls ;)

warnings: SMUT; unprotected p in v; oral (m receiving); orgasm denial; hair pulling; very angry! very dirty! very rough!; waterfall; toxic! fwb; 18+

notes: sooo i rlly did NOT have the time to be writing all this bc im so overwhelmed with school stuff (hence why i chronically disappear from this app im so sorry) but i could not! stop! thinking! about! matt's ig story from a couple days ago and had to feed my delusions. also be warned y/n is ABSOLUTELY BAT SHIT BONKERS CRAZY but unfortunately i was able to resonate with her on a deep level bc if i was fucking matt and saw that ig post i fear i would lose my mind too. aaaanyways i love u all so so much and hope u enjoy this piece of filth <3333

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“What the fuck is this?” Your voice sent a shockwave through the small, dark bedroom as you stormed through the door. Matt’s sleeping frame, wrapped comfortably in his bedsheets, did nothing but make the simmering anger within you begin to boil. A confused groan came from under the covers as you flicked the light on, brightening the room so quickly it even made you squint. “Matt! Get up.” You demanded, walking agitatedly over to his bed and ripping the covers off of him. You gulped at the sight of his shirtless frame, the dark ink of the tattoos across his arms acting as your kryptonite. Your hesitation only lasted a moment, however, as you quickly recollected yourself at the reminder of why you had showed up to your fuck buddy’s house unannounced.

“The fuck are you doing?” Matt grumbled hoarsely, his eyes screwed tightly shut as a protection from the sharp light and your sharper confrontation. You felt your anger grow all-consuming, making you lose all sight of rationality as you watched him bury his face in a pillow. Scoffing, you felt a trembling within you, lighting your skin on fire. “I’m asking you what the fuck this is.” You replied, unlocking your phone and shoving it in his face. Flinching at the sudden brightness just inches from him, he cautiously opened his eyes into droopy slits, focusing on the image on the screen. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light enough to comprehend what he was looking at, but you knew the moment he did because he rolled his eyes before running his hands exasperatedly across his face. “Oh my fucking god Y/n,” He grumbled under his breath.

You let out a sharp laugh, crossing your arms and staring down at him. “That’s all you have to say?” Your voice was raising even higher now, and even in your anger you tried to contain yourself. Matt took a deep breath, and indulgently, you watched his lower stomach move as he did. “What do you want me to say?” He replied, still scrubbing his tired eyes; refusing to look at you, “Like I have no clue what you’re seeing.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you ran your tongue across your teeth in anger. “No clue what I’m seeing?” You turned the phone around to face you, feeling your stomach flip at the photo on Matt’s Instagram story before zooming in to his exposed grey boxers and his pelvis pressed suggestively against his bathroom sink.

Shoving the phone back in his face, he took a quick glance at the screen before rolling his eyes once again and sitting up in his disheveled bed. “Why don’t you just tell me what you’ve made up in that head of yours because I still have no clue what I’m supposed to be seeing here.” You wanted to scream from his nonchalance, but instead you took another step towards him as he shifted to sit at the edge of his bed. “Well, it looks an awful lot like a thirst trap to me,” You began, crossing your arms over your chest and staring down at him. A frustrated smirk tugged at the corner of his lips from your words, making you shake with anger.

“Where’s the problem.” He phrased his question like an exasperated statement, causing you to begin pacing in front of him. “I’m not dumb, Matt, I know you only post those when you’re after some new girl.” You could hear the blood roaring in your ears as you worked on controlling yourself. “Are you fucking someone new now?” He released another annoyed groan before standing up from the bed. Looking into his eyes, you noticed the familiar shimmer of darkness in them that caused your stomach to do excited flips. “You’re fucking crazy Y/n.” He replied, his voice low as he shook his head with an arrogant smile on his face.

His words made your head spin, those words that had been spoken countless times and never failed to cause your anger to boil over. “I’m not fucking crazy,” You replied through gritted teeth, “Admit that there’s a new girl that’s caught your eye.” Your eyes were laser-focused on his antagonistically. “Why does it matter?” He replied, his voice filled with exhaustion, and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. Still, his words caused your eyebrows to raise and a bitter laugh to fall from your lips. “So there is, huh?” He rolled his eyes again, failing to take you seriously once again.

“Who is it?” You pushed him even further, causing him to really begin growing frustrated now. He ran a hand through his hair and began walking away from you. Overtaken with fury, you followed him — planting your feet in front of him. “You fuck her yet?” You continued to egg him on, noticing even through your anger how excited you grew from the annoyance evident in his behaviour. “Y/n,” He warned, his jaw tense as he clearly fought against his own anger. “I’m dead serious,” You continued, taking another step closer to him, “Was she better than me? Huh? Is that why I haven’t heard from you all weekend?”

It was his turn to take a few steps towards you, forcing you to walk backwards until you felt the wall against your back. “You haven’t heard from me all weekend because you never fail to give me a fucking headache over shit like this,” His voice was low, making your pulse race as he continued, “You need to stop making shit up in your head, Y/n.” You could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he stood just inches away from you, and your sharp anger was dulled slightly by the intoxicating closeness of your bodies. “I’m not making anything up, asshole.” You spat, though your voice was airy as your gaze drifted down to his pink lips.

“You’re losing your fucking mind, storming into my house uninvited, over one fucking Instagram post,” His voice was thick with anger as he spoke, “I’m over your bullshit, Y/n, I mean it.” As he spoke, your heart began racing — not from his words, but by the way he was looking down at you. Blue eyes darkened and jaw tight, but the familiar knit brow that only appeared when he was fighting the urge to swallow you whole gave him away.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the realization that you were once again getting the reaction you wanted from him, but you swiped it away before he could see it. Instead, you would continue playing this game until you got exactly what you wanted. “Why?” You began, your voice still angry yet laced with subtle seduction, “Got plans with the new bitch you’ve been trying to impress?” He let out a throaty grunt and pushed you flush against the wall — allowing you to feel the stiff bulge in his pyjama pants against your front.

“Hmm,” You hummed, fluttering your eyes seductively to let him know you felt it, “Are you that hard for her, or me?” His eyes dilated so that they looked nearly black. You couldn’t stop the smirk that took over your lips as he laced a rough hand through your hair, using his grip on it to tilt up your head forcefully. “Shut up Y/n.” He replied, his voice clipped and thick with arousal. You ran your tongue across your teeth again, looking up at him antagonistically as you recognized the strain in his demeanour. “Don’t be embarrassed, Matt. Who knows, maybe if she’s down you can have both of us at once,” You tilted your head slightly, taking in his threatening expression — the desire that was swimming through his veins was evident. “That is, if you can take us bo—”

“I said shut your mouth.” You gasped as Matt used his grip on your hair to pull you down to your knees in front of him. An arrogant smile covered your lips as you watched him swiftly remove his pyjama pants and boxers in one motion before grabbing onto your head and guiding your open mouth to his stiff member. Eagerly, you wrapped your stretched lips around his girth and relished in the taste of his salty pre-cum against your tongue. His grip in your hair tightened, and he used it to begin moving your head up and down his swollen shaft.

His movements were rough, and it wasn’t long before thick strings of saliva began dripping down your numb chin and collecting at the base of his cock. Crude sounds filled the space between you both as he pushed your head further and further down his length until you could feel your throat stretch to accommodate the spongey tip. Short grunts fell sporadically from his lips as he watched his cock disappear between your glistening lips. “You look so p-pretty when your mouth has something to k-keep it busy.” His words, punctuated by his quick breaths, shot straight to your core; causing you to release a strangled moan around his girth.

Tears filled your eyes as you looked up at him, mascara dripping down your flushed cheeks causing his hips to subconsciously snap into you. “Fuck,” He groaned, removing one of his hands from your hair and using it to brace himself against the wall behind you. Leaning forward, he began thrusting his cock into your drooling mouth, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy. “You love when I shut you up with my cock, don’t you baby,” His voice was ragged and feral, causing your stomach to flip in excited fear. Unable to speak, all you could do was gargle around his length. Smirking, he continued, “This is what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?”

Your lungs were suddenly filled with deliciously cool air as he pulled his dripping cock from your mouth. Gasping to catch your breath after minutes without any, you let his warm, heavy cock rest on your cheek as he took in your fucked out appearance. “I’m giving you one opportunity to speak, Y/n.” He said, admiring the exhaustion on your reddened face. Looking up at him, your moment of melancholy disappeared and was replaced with an urge to push him even further. “What I wanted all along was to know who the fuck the new girl is.”

His dick jumped against your skin from your snarky words, and after a brief hesitation, he lifted you off of the ground and slammed you against the wall. Gasping from the sudden movement, you didn’t have a moment to adjust before his mouth was on yours. Feverish, his tongue didn’t wait for your lips to grant them entrance before slipping into your mouth. The heat of his kiss was intoxicating as your lips moulded into one in sheer desperation. His tongue dominated your own as he relished in the taste of himself on you. A soft moan left your lips as his hands began exploring your lower body. Upon finding the hem of your tennis skirt, he toyed with the soft material before slipping his hand underneath to find your desperate heat.

You released a pitiful whine as he just barely made contact with your dripping folds atop your lace thong — his touch a clear form of revenge for your behaviour today. The cool enamel of his teeth tugged at your lower lip, the sharp sensation causing you to gasp before he quickly spun you around so that you were now facing the wall. Using one hand to spread your legs apart and the other to first pull your skirt up to your waist before slipping your drenched thong to the side, his breath was hot against the skin of your shoulder as he spoke.“I don’t wanna hear another word from your mouth unless it’s you moaning over how much you love my cock.”

Just as you opened your mouth to deliver a final snarky remark, all of the air was pushed from your lungs as Matt buried his still-glossy cock to the hilt inside of you. Digging his fingers into your plush hip with one hand and lacing the other through your wild hair, he didn’t give you a moment to adjust to his size before driving his hips into you relentlessly. Your walls stretched around his girth, welcoming him on each sharp thrust. Girlish moans fell from your lips — the tone so different that what you had been using to speak to him. The slapping sound of wet skin against skin filled the small room as your body was repeatedly pressed between Matt and the cool wall.

“Your crazy makes — fuck — makes me crazy,” Matt growled in your ear before biting it harshly. A moan fell from your lips at the erotic, sharp pain of the gesture. Noticing your uncontrollable moans, he continues to egg you on. “Feels good when I fuck the senses back into you hmm?” His grip on your hair tightens, and he uses it to guide you to the bed and bend you over the edge — all without removing his cock from you dripping cunt. Feeling relief from being pressed against a soft bed rather than a hard wall, you cry out his name in unutterable pleasure before replying, “F-feels so good, M-Matt,”

Your breathy words are rare, and they seem to go straight to Matt’s cock as he releases his own guttural moan. “W-why can’t you be like this all the time?” He asked, his words punctuated by each rapid thrust. Mustering up all the strength in your body, you turned and looked at him over your shoulder with a smirk. “Where’s the fun in that?” Matt bit his lower lip at your words, and his fiery eyes stayed focused on yours as he snapped his hips into you at a punishing pace. Your walls flexed, an orgasm rapidly approaching as his cock slammed repeatedly into your swollen g-spot. Recognizing this, and with it the control he had gained over you, he smirked before slowing his movements.

“You wanna cum baby?” You shuddered as his cock slid through your oozing cunt slowly, the pace allowing you to feel every inch of him stimulate your sensitive walls. The slow tilt of his hips was driving you crazy, pushing you even closer to your high than when he was slamming into you relentlessly. A soft whine fell from your lips before you nodded your head frantically, feeling the elastic band in your lower stomach stretch taut with the need for release. He chuckled behind you as he continued rolling his hips slowly, watching your pinched facial expressions carefully as though gauging how close you were to falling apart under him.

“F-fuck,” You moaned, eyes pinching shut as you felt your orgasm inch closer and closer. Your legs began to tremble as your nerve endings lit on fire — every move he made now causing your head to spin in euphoria. “Y/n, you’re not gonna cum,” His words caused your pleading eyes to fly open, landing on him with a look of humiliating desperation. “Y-yes I am,” You replied, panic growing steadily in your voice as you felt your walls begin to cave in. “F-fuck!” You cried out in bliss at the feeling of being nearly pulled into the tidal wave of your orgasm, only to be suddenly cut off by the feeling of cold emptiness as Matt quickly pulled his dripping cock out of you.

Whimpering at the loss of contact, your soaked cunt flexed around nothing as you trembled from the remnants of your nearly-there orgasm. “What the fuck?” You cried weakly, arching your back and blindly searching for his cock with your weeping folds. Noticing your intention, Matt placed a firm hand on your back to stop your movements before pressing his sticky cock to your swollen bundle of nerves. A desperate cry fell from your lips as he tauntingly slid himself against your pink folds, the external contact almost worse than no contact at all.

“If you wanna cum,” His voice was hoarse behind you, as though the loss of contact was just as painful for him, “You gotta promise me you’re gonna stop acting crazy,” You released a frustrated groan at his words, before rolling your hips against his front desperately. “No more barging into my house talking shit, no more cussing out other girls I see, and no more running your mouth, alright?” You gritted your teeth at his horrible proposition, and hated how much control he had over you in that moment.

But the satin tip of his cock was rubbing perfectly against your pulsing clit, and you could tell by the placement of his fist against your wet skin and the movement of his hips behind you that he was fucking his own hand while enveloped in your folds, and in the state of arousal you were in, it was enough for you to say nearly anything if it meant he would deliver you your stolen orgasm. “Y-yes,” You replied, feeling incapable of granting him more than a one-word answer. Still, it didn’t seem to be enough for him, as in between muted grunts he replied, “Yes what, Y/n.”

“I’ll be better, please, I-I’ll be better Matt j-just let me cum,” You felt your already flushed cheeks grow redder by the shrill neediness in your tone. But your words seemed to satisfy Matt because, after shooting you an amused smirk, he slid his cock through your folds one final time to collect the pool of milky arousal that had gathered in its absence, before slipping back into you and resuming his sharp thrusts. A long, satisfied moan fell from your lips at the feeling of being filled to the hilt once more, and it was as though no time had lapsed as your orgasm immediately began approaching; this time much stronger than the last.

“Jesus baby,” Matt grunted behind you, overtaken by the flood of your arousal that was milking his cock and gathering at its base. You felt him swell within you, and knew that he was just as close to falling apart as you were. Your walls fluttered as pleasure built deep in your core; pressing down on your heat in a way it never had before. “J-just like that, gonna c-cum!” You begged Matt to hold himself together for just a moment longer, fearing that if you didn’t get a release you would explode into pieces.

Matt held back his own orgasm, his chest growing red and his arms growing thick veins from the effort. His cock, now even harder than before, thrusted vehemently into you until at last the forceful waves of your orgasm swept your stiff, trembling body away. A sinfully erotic moan fell from your open mouth as your cunt flexed uncontrollably around his length, releasing the formidable pressure in your stomach as you squirted against his front.

That seemed to be more than he could bear, as the moment he felt your warm fluid bathe his cock he stilled behind you; releasing a guttural moan as his member pulsed out thick ropes of cum deep inside of you. Still riding your own high, your fingers dug helplessly into the mattress as you both released a chorus of expletives into the humid room. Matt pulled his cock out of you and parted your folds to watch in awe as your still-pulsing cunt pushed out glistening strings of his seed. Using his finger, you released one final sharp moan as he collected his cum and pushed it back into your raw pussy.

Letting you catch your breath, Matt dropped a quick kiss to the dimple on your lower back before grabbing a towel to wipe down first you, and then himself. Face buried in the mattress, you relished in a feeling of serenity that was so rare for you to experience as you listened to your heart begin to steady. You felt the mattress sink, and without having to look you knew that Matt had sprawled out beside you.

“Why does it have to be so good?” You heard him ask, likely to himself more than to you. Still, you felt a smile creep onto your lips before replying. “Because it’s with me,” Lifting your head from the bed, you suddenly forgot about the promise you had made him just moments before as you turned to face his naked frame draped beside you, “Try fucking that girl you want so bad on Instagram, and I guarantee you won’t have to ask that question.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Hi! I have it as a general rule of thumb online that if I’m going to engage in a debate, I do so politely and with earnest, even if I disagree, which in this case, I still do.

I appreciate you breaking down your thoughts though! I apologise for taking so long to reply too.

I think it’s important that I begin this by establishing that with the term red flag, I mean a warning sign. Obviously, we have the wonders of hindsight that Padme did not, but I don’t think that erases the fact some of the things Anakin said were warning signs, and Padme was willing to brush past them, because she was in love, and he saw her as Padme, not a senator, or a queen.

I understand the point of comparing Anakin’s mindset to the Jedi Council, but I think it’s also important to take into account Palpatine is also a large influence on Anakin’s life, and his view on politics. The lines, in this case, do start blur with that context. That, and the fact he’s okay with what Padme points out is a dictatorship ‘if it works’ or if it’s necessary, is still a huge warning sign that Padme then chooses to overlook, rather than address, or even educate Anakin on.

And I’m sorry, but I cannot, in any good conscience, agree with the statement that a massacre is not a warning sign.

Yes, we have a psychological reasoning for Anakin’s behaviour, and I do feel sympathy for him, but that doesn’t change what he did. And, if you are going to argue the massacre itself isn’t a red flag, then understand the motivation behind it, and how dangerously far Anakin is willing to go for the people he loves is. We see this at its worst in ROTS — the Tusken Massacre is a direct early parallel to that I’d argue, on a much smaller scale.

Anakin’s regret to me doesn’t stem from a place of the Tusken’s fate either. He refers to them as animals. He hates them — intensely so. But he regrets how he failed as a Jedi: “I know I’m better than this.” I rewatched the scene and that’s how I understood it.

I think Padme made the right move in comforting, in regards to handling what was clearly Anakin experiencing a split (BPD terminology), but at the same time, the fact she pushed aside all of that, and never once set boundaries, was not good for either of them.

And I also think objectively, someone showing they are very capable of mass murder for those they love is just… a very bad sign. It doesn’t matter why at that point. Because then it’s a question of how far can they go if pushed?

I would also rather we didn’t mention the existences of real life examples when trying to explain why a genocide isn’t a warning sign either. There are a lot of times I think comparing Star Wars to real life is understandable — even encouraged! — but this is not a context I think you should be doing that.

I will die on the hill that to understand Anidala you have to accept that Padme saw the red flags clear as day and went for it anyway. Why? Because Anakin was honest with her. Because Anakin, for all his idolising and putting her on a pedestal, still saw and treated her as a human being, even argued against her at times without fear or without hiding behind clever words. Because Anakin made her feel the youth that was taken from her at a young age. She was captured by the boyish charm and the awkwardness and the blunt honesty, and so when he came to her with a billion red flags, she went for it anyway. He was a breath of fresh air to her.

To understand Anidala you must understand they are 100% freak4freak. They are both children who grew up too fast and are now in a secret relationship giggling like teenagers in their twenties. This is vital to them. Padme is not a flawless character or an idea of perfection, on the contrary she is a very human character who was put in charge of her people at fourteen, something that had a lasting impact on her, and so she is choosing her childhood joy and a fairytale romance over the red flags her husband is waving. She is the OG ‘I can fix him’ mentality. No one is doing it like her.

‘The red flags are mass murder’ and the point still stands.

[clockwayswrites]

A Hill to Die On, Chapter 4 Part 2

masterpost (note that Caroline is not necessarily the best narrator about DID/OSSD, she's just trying explain her experience as she see is [in this story])

“He didn’t,” Caroline gasped, careful not to spill her wine as she leaned forward.

As soon as Dick realized that Caroline didn’t normally get to share and see the world through Tim’s eyes, he had been a fountain of stories about the family. “He did. There was a green tint to his skin for weeks. Sure, the distraction worked, I was able to slip away, but at what cost?”

“You ask that as if Bruce had any dignity left to lose,” Caroline pointed out with a raised brow. “I’m not sure there was even any to lose by the first time that I met him.”

“Oh, no, god no,” Dick said. He leaned forward to snag another piece of the dragon roll. “The cost wasn’t Bruce’s dignity, it was the fact that the fountains have never been dyed green for Saint Patty’s day again! We lost a great tradition that day.”

“A very noble one,” Caroline said somberly.

“Verily,” Dick agreed. He polled the piece of sushi in his mouth and leaned back to drape himself over the couch. He really could lounge. “How long have you known Bruce?”

“You mean you’re trying to figure out how long I’ve been around,” Caroline said.

Dick shrugged, looking only slightly cowed. “Yeah. Is that rude? I don’t want to offend you, but I can’t say that I’m not curious.”

“You’re a Bat, of course you’re curious,” Caroline allowed. She took a piece of sushi too, so that she had some time to think. “I haven’t always been around, just because I simply can’t have. Or I don’t think that I could have, because I think Tim was the first, but I don’t know when I haven’t been around. I have some unclear, fuzzy memories from before, but my first clear memory was when I was there to front for Tim’s first Gala. He was so scared about it. He didn’t want to upset his parents.”

“They weren’t your parents too?”

“No, never,” Caroline said with a vicious sort of certainty. She glanced up and caught Dick’s sympathetic look and gave a wry smile. “Do you know how badly it would have been if the Drakes knew that I existed? Or Alvin once he did? We would have been shipped off to some asylum disguised as a boarding school and they would have tried to fry me out of Tim’s brain. No, I was just there to perform admirably at galas. That was my first mission.”

Dick face was twisted up in a thoughtful little frown as he stared up at the ceiling. Caroline felt privileged that she got to see this side of Dick. She knew that he didn’t like to seem unhappy around many people.

“Didn’t Bruce pick the name Caroline Hill?”

“He did,” Caroline said.

“But…” Dick waved in her direction.

Caroline shifted and folded her legs up to her side as she thought how to explain. “I didn’t have a name. I was simply… the Woman. I think that I’m based a lot on Janet, even though she would have hated that, but also the other woman that we saw at galas. Calm, efficient, and in control. Tim knew I was there, but not… that I was? Or how much I was. I might have not even known. But when I was needed for his mission to be Caroline Hill… I don’t know. I suppose it’s a little like when Pinocchio became a real boy. Suddenly I had a name and a real mission, one for the life Tim loves. It was transformative.”

“And you’ve been… growing? Is that an okay word?”

Caroline shrugged. She didn’t mind the word at least.

“You’ve been growing ever since.”

“I suppose so,” Caroline agreed. She took a sip of her wine. She wondered how much Tim would hate her for explaining this, but someone needed to know. “After this injury, Tim hasn’t really been himself. I think maybe because he doesn’t know who he is without Robin. In all of that thinking… I don’t know how to explain it really, but I guess that there was some more room made for me and Alvin. Alvin might not much want it but God, Dick, I love being alive.”

Dick smiled. “Does that mean you’ll be around more.”

“I have been the last few weeks at least. But I promise that I’m not trying to take over from Tim,” Caroline said in a rush as it occurred to her that Dick might be worried about it. “I’m just enjoying some time out and about and some, ah, mutual interests and—”

“Caroline, calm down,” Dick interrupted. “I’m not worried about that. Whatever works for you and Tim is all that matters. And, well, Alvin. I just thought that if you’re going to be around more, we should make sure you have some things of your own.”

Caroline blinked, surprised. “Like clothing?”

“Definitely like clothing,” Dick agreed, “but also foods you like and even decor. Like, Tim has a spare bedroom, right? We could make it up as yours or at least a space that’s more your tastes.”

“Oh.” Caroline swallowed back the threat of tears. She wasn’t going to cry, damn it. “I—yes, I’d like that.”

“Shopping trip!” Dick said. His wine splashed on the floor as he threw his arms up in the air. “Oh, oh! What about inviting some of the other girls on the shopping trip?”

Caroline covered her smile with a delicate hand. “You’re not a girl.”

“Bitch, I can rock a skirt,” Dick said as he struck a pose.

“Fine, you wear a skirt for it and you can invite the other girls,” Caroline said before she could second guess it. “But you have to explain me to them before it and make sure that they… that they won’t mind me.’

“They won’t,” Dick promised, “and deal.”

[evesbookshop]

𝐌𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞 ❤︎︎

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Izuku Midoriya who starts knitting as physical therapy after his last battle. Who by the time he’s a teacher has insane hand dexterity and is ambidextrous. Whose friends all have their own knit versions of their own merch. Who knits both you and himself little braided rings you both use as place holders until you marry. Which is extremely helpful cause he can just keep remaking his when it falls off without his knowledge or breaks

Izuku Midoriya, who always feels absolutely horrible when he does loose or damage one of these knit rings. And so he spends a few hours when he gets home wrecking you on extremely skilled fingers while whispering compliments and apologies in your ear. “You forgive me don’t you, baby?” Knowing you can’t see straight let alone form works.

Katsuki Bakugou, who despite being an absolute monster with Spicey food , cannot handle even a little sour. Who claims it’s just nasty , and won’t touch one with his friends around. Who falls victim when you give him a war head in place of a regular hard candy and whole face turns red just to twists in shock and betrayal before running out the room to spit it and and definitely not puke.

Katsuki Bakugou who’s a spiteful bastard, and so the next time you have sex, in the middle of moan you find lemon juice being squeezed into your mouth. Shock causing you to yelp and the juice to leak out your mouth. It’s okay though because despite hating the taste, he finds that it’s not so bad when he’s licking it off your throat.

Shoto Todoroki, who’s dense but not nearly as much as people think he is. It took a him a while to figure out he didn’t just really want to be your friend, and then stop ignoring you after the fact. But otherwise very aware of social ques and habits. Who was literally media trained as a child, but he just thinks it’s funnier to blurt things out that should probably stay private. Who acts very lost sometimes but only when it’s beneficial and gets people to leave him alone. And who after getting into a relationship doesn’t do it in private, because he refuses to lie or anything close to you.

Shoto Todoroki who despite not liking to play dense with you in day to day life is more then willing to use it against you in bed “oh right here ? Did that feel good? I’m sorry I can’t quite understand you , love?”

Eijiro Kirishima, who’s a tank of a man , the epitome of typical masculinity out side of his tender personality. Who also eats up trash reality television. Big brother, real house wives, keeping up with the kardashians, toddlers and tiaras, and the holy grail- Jersey Shore. He who has matching meatball shirts with you and that same pair of studded out sunglasses. And who because of said tv shows, has the nastiest reads in the book. A list shit talker when no one’s looking.

Eijiro Kirishima, who comes home one day to see you in the skimpiest outfit known to man, covered in leopard print. And finds himself more horny than he’s ever been in his entire life. Who is in the apartment for maybe 2 minutes before he has you face down, bent over the couch arm.

Denki Kaminari, who’s is actually a little dense and struggles with numbers and letters, due to dyslexia they caught late, but loves to consume literature. Who is might as well be a walking audible commercial. Who is an avid Colleen Hoover hater. Who eats up all sorts of books from biographies to the most jaw dropping smut books ever. Who because of his vast online book collection, is actually really smart just about oddly specific things and people.

Denki Kaminari who drags you into the bedroom because he’s trying to figure out a really oddly worded position in a book, and lets you reap the benefits of his confusion.at least when he gets it right, for the first half it’s mostly maneuvering around each other while listening to the same part of the book in utter confusion.

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ❤︎︎

[w0rmss]

Jason todd nsfw alphabet

sorry for another one of these. I have no ideas and am lowkey sick rn so these are easy.

But feel free to request anything guys I got no ideas so please feed me so I can feed you or something profound like that.

I also am very into the kinda Jason that isn't sex mad but just enjoys it and enjoys his partner wanting and enjoying it.

Anyways enjoy

A: Aftercare: Great at it. Anything you need he's got for you. Anything your didn't know you want he's also got for you. Waiting on you hand and foot after pound town

B: Body part. He doesn't have a favourite body part of his he has such a love hate relationship with his body. He loves your collarbone and the crock of your neck. He loves to kiss there or bury his face and inhale you.

C: Cum. He likes to come inside. Condom or not it's just cleaner that way and less fumbling. He also finds it more intimate

D: Dirty little secret. He loves the romantic parts of your sex life. The soft sex the movie make outs the calm things. He has this big tough exterior but he really loves the soft sweet moments

E: Experience. Now controversial take. He has a bit of experience but isn't like crazy crazy experienced like a few exes here or there maybe an odd in night stand. But he ain't dick tim or bruce level experienced

F: favourite position. Missionary basic but he likes to see your face or be able to bury hid head in your neck. He also likes lotus which is where you basically sit cross legged and your partner sits on top. Same reason

G: Goofy. He's serious. Like he's focused on getting you off and making sure you have a good time he's not young around

H: Hair. Very very well groomed. Not balled but neat not a hair out of place

I: Intimacy. As I've stated he's very intimate. He loves seeing your face kissing you passionately etc

J: jacking off. No. He just doesn't need to he has you and craves the Intimacy of sex more so than sex sex

K: Kinks. Very very vanilla but enjoys overstimulating you

L: location. Bed. Or couch he's very private maybe in the shower if you ask but he prefers the softer quite spaces

M: Motivation. If you're in the mood then so is he. Sometimes it's just when a make out gets to much and he needs more too

N: Nos. Pain or exhibitionism

O: Oral. Giver. Massive giver like will come in his pants from giving you head

P: Pace. Slow and deep.

Q: Quickies. Not really. If you want one he's happy to but he diesn really like them he prefers taking his time and showing you all the love he can

R: Risks. He's not risky at all. Like he might try something small if you ask but he's not bring nothing to the table

S: Stamina. 3 plus rounds

T: Toys. Not really if you want to sure but he loves seeing you get off because of him

U: Unfair. He's not a tease at all. But he will 'accidentally' overstimulate you

V: Volume. Quiet a few grunts and moans here and there but they're not very loud

W: Wild card. As said he has gotten off to going down on you and he fucking loves it. It's his favourite way to get off

X: X ray. Big boy like thick and veiny round 7 inches give more so than take

Y: Yearning. He does really seek sex as I've said but he always wants to be touching you in some way sexual or not. Holding hands hands on yiru hips lips on your neck.

Z: zzz. He likes to watch you fall asleep before he does. Knowing your happy and safe makes him feel happy and safe.

Thank you hope you enjoyed

Feel free to request like reply repost. I love all the support I get from you guys thank you.

Stay safe

Have a wonderful day night afternoon etc

[bvidzsoo]

Took me some time to answer this, but I hope you know I'm kicking my feet, hehe. Love u, Mina! <3

I certainly wasn't expecting Wikipedia to be involved, but nonetheless, amazing.

lmaoo, let me have my moment of weakness...at least it wasn't CHATGPT ikyk;)

The "you can't see color until you meet your soulmate" has since like middle school been one of my favourite plots ever, so to read yeosang fanfic created by none other than ari had me kicking my feet in the air. I was so excited to read this when we first started planning the event and im still vibrating with excitement 🤭

maaan, stop, why haven't you told me when we were planning the event, WOMAN??? This is so sweet tho, thank you very much! You're jinja the sweetest, ack!

I really like this MC. She can both feel envy for those who have found their soulmate but also be happy for them. and, oh my god, how she wonders if the warmth of seeing her customers happy is the same as the one she'll get seeing her soulmate 😭

she wants to hate them couples, but deep down, she can't because she's just a hopeless romantic lol (like me?? idk)

The further into the fic I get, the more I fall in love with your writing again Ari. There's something so special about how you describe the MC finally being able to see the colors. Like it doesn't hit her all at once, but gradually, as if she's always known that blue is the shade of the sky and green is the rich color of grass outside. And it's amazing how everything clicks in place when she sees Yeosang's reaction. I also love that she takes the time to drink in everything after Yeosang leaves. She admires the flowers in their true form for the first time ever and I think that's really sweet 🥹

ahh, I had this scene envisioned even before writing it...like, i got this idea when we were randomly searching for the tropes and I was like OMG i want this trop because i could do this really cool scene with it-and to know it came off well...THANK UUU

She doesn't get it by looking at the different ribbons or flowers, when a wave of rainbow washes over her, no. She realises that she has met her soulmate by seeing him. And, in some way, I find that to be more romantic than if she'd put two and two together by seeing the true color of the ribbon for the first time.

it iiis so much mooore romantic, AAACK!!

I freaking love their date 😭😭 They are so cute and soft with each other, and just taking it slow until they gradually warm up and are more relaxed. AND MC GIVING HIM A FREAKING HUG, THAT WAS SO CUTE- UGh....🤧 I love how they are always somehow touching whether its hugging, holding hands or literally knees nudging together 🥹 They've been apart for too long that they can't help it oh my heart~~

im glad you liked their cute little dates because i was kicking my feet HARD lol. And yes, they've been apart for too long now and don't want to miss any more seconds. I'm glad they are endearing hehe

THIS IS WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT EARLIER!!! They're just so comfortable with each other now, as if they've known each other for years 😭 A thing that's sorta important to me is the idea that you can sit in a silence with someone and not feel awkward about it. Like you can just bask in each other's presence and think, "this is nice" despite not exchanging words.

if the love that finds me isn't gentle, I DON'T WANT IT OKAY?? I love moments like this one so much UGH, i was unwell writing it LOL. I knew you'd be a sucker for them as well, hehe ^^

IM JUMPING IN A DITCH THEY ARE SO CUTE 😭😭😭😭 PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASEEEEEE, MAY A LOVE LIKE THIS ATTACK ME. LITERALLY TAKE ME BY THE NECK AND BODY SLAM ME 🤧

lmaoo, you always make me crack up when you say this...im pinning it, btw!

Ahem, anyways! This story is so sweet and cute and soft and- *inhales* I'm now in need of more Yeosang fanfics 😭 As I always say, you never cease to amaze me Ari and this fic, at least I feel like, made you explore the more softer side of your creativity. Considering we've read a plethora of different genres, but now we get to see more of your fluffy-side and I can say I'm in love with it. Matter of fact, I might even send you a request of more fluffy!Yeosang 👀🩷

AAA now stop it Mina, that infinitely too sweet, I cannot do this. You saying I'm exploring my softer side of creativity has my heart soaring through my chest for some reason, thank uuu so much. I've been really enjoying writing these stories, thank you for taking part in it and giving me a chance to do something fun on this site hehe. That being said, I'll be catching up with your Hwa story!

A world in your colours

𐀔 Cherry Blossom, March Event 𐀔

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Daycare teacher!Kang Yeosang x Florist!reader

𐀔 Warning: none 𐀔 Word count: 6.2k 𐀔 Rating: sfw 𐀔 Genre: fluff, soulmates: you see all the colours for the first time when you meet your soulmate, strangers to lovers, fated together 𐀔 Summary: A world through the faint hues of your soulmate's eye colour isn't the most colourful life to live. Approaching twenty-five and still being unable to see all the colours the world has to offer has you worried that you'll never meet your soulmate. Doubts and questions riddle your mind day and night, but at least you have the one thing that makes you happy no matter what, your little flowers. You can't actually see their colours, but you can imagine their vibrancy. And then, one day when you're making a bouquet for a lovely man, your whole world gets covered in an overwhelming amount of colour, rendering you stunned.

A/N: Here it is, our lovely Yeosang's drabble. I love this guy and I love this little fluffy story, man, I was smiling so widely while writing these two, they are so endearing. Despite writing a florist!au...I cannot take care of my plants for the life of me, even though I really love them...especially pretty little flowers, but oh, well, I'll have to get better at taking care of them once I move out...I hope you enjoy this drabble and let me know what you thought of it, your feedback is much appreciated! Enjoy! ^^ divider @cromernet

𐀔 Join the taglist here! 𐀔

Taglist: @thecarnivaloflies @faeriehwa @mingiatz @kang-ulzzang @xylatox

@mintchocolatto @mintsugarr93 @solaris-amethyst @foxinnie8 @marvolos

@licityvibes @amoryeonjun @nkryuki @matchahintonagar @k1ttym0nkey

@justconniez @ateezswonderland @lemonkait00 @youcanstayalways @cristy-101

@my-atiny-kookie-rkive @wooyouz @cosmicrecs

            Colour, as defined by everyone’s best friend, Wikipedia, is the visual perception based on the electromagnetic spectrum. Although colour is not a fundamental attribute of matter itself, the way we perceive it is intricately tied to how an object absorbs, reflects, and emits light, as well as the subtle play of interference within those light waves. That was another sentence you had long ago read on the internet, and it stuck with you. Your peers have always considered you a bit strange for your obsession with colours, but then again, in a world that was painted mostly grey with hues of brown, amber, and copper, you couldn’t help but obsess over it. It wasn’t by choice that you couldn’t see all colours…if it were up to you, you’d coat your whole life in nothing but a mess of bright and light pastels. You sighed at the reoccurring thought as you walked over to another plastic vase to grab a purple Lily to add to the bouquet. You double-checked the label before grabbing it, though; you didn’t need another embarrassing incident today.

The sole reason as to why you couldn’t see colours yet was because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. In a way, it was something you were glad for because you’d know for sure who your soulmate was. You’ve read stories written by famous novelists who fantasized about a world where your soulmate's first words directed at you would be inked into your skin, and you wondered whether that felt as magical as the author made it seem. What if five different people said the same exact words to you that were on your wrist? What then? How would you decide which was your soulmate? You didn’t like thinking about that, though, content with the reality of your world. Sure, it was a bit depressing and quite literally grey, but it also brought a sense of excitement and anticipation with it. Whenever you allowed yourself to fantasize about the moment when you’d meet your soulmate, your cheeks would burn hot, and your heart would race. You’d close your eyes and try to imagine all the vibrant colours that suddenly coloured your surroundings.

You figured it would feel overwhelming at first, making you sentimental or sending you into a panicked sobbing. You thought it would blind you and make you feel nauseous as all the colours would be suddenly as vivid as an explosion in the distance that was now right under your nose. You thought you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, that you’d need a second to piece your thoughts back together, to make sense of the situation, to tell yourself that everything was okay. That’s how you imagined you’d react, but you were always a person full of surprises, even to yourself. Besides, diving too deep into this topic always leaves you with a sour aftertaste. You were twenty-five, and your world was still gloomy, devoid of the warmth and brightness everyone around you gushed about. It wasn’t unusual to be still single by twenty-five, but most people have found their soulmates back in high school. Your parents, for example, were even luckier than that and met in middle school; their worlds suddenly filled with all colours. You were jealous of them, but you also admired them profoundly.

Their love was deep and unlike anything you’d seen before. Their respect for each other went even deeper than their love, kindness and devotion, just a few sentiments that could be added to their plate when cherishing one another. You wished for a gentle love like theirs, for quiet moments where no words had to be uttered to be understood, for genuine kindness and laughter that filled the longing in your chest. You smiled at your customer as you tied her bouquet together, getting an excited grin back in return.

“Oh, this is gorgeous!” She exclaimed as you grabbed a little butterfly sticker, searching for the perfect leaf to press onto, “My little one will love this!”

You were happy that the mother was excited; seeing your clients excited and happy over the flowers you loved so much always filled your chest with warmth. You imagined being with your soulmate felt like that, too. You handed the bouquet over to the woman once you were done with it, accepting her card when she said she had no cash.

“I’ve never seen anyone combine these colours so beautifully before,” The woman mused to herself as her eyes took in the plethora of flowers, a mixture of white, yellow, pink and even a little bit of purple in there, “You’ve got an artistic eye for it.”

You felt proud at the praise as you handed the card back, grinning at the lady as you bowed your head in gratitude, “That’s a lovely compliment, thank you so much!”

You didn’t have the heart to tell the lady that you had no idea what the flowers looked like in colour, whether the pink bow you’d tied to keep the bouquet together matched with the flowers you had chosen. The lady left soon after as she was in a rush, and you sighed, looking around the flower shop. You could tell the walls were a lighter orange, the shades a dark brown and probably your soulmate’s exact eye colour since the colour was so rich in hue. You’ve always wondered if the other colours were just as beautiful as the ones you could lightly see from time to time—or more pronounced if they were the same colour as your soulmate’s eyes—and your conclusion had always been that, yes, no matter what nuance or hue, all of it was just as gorgeous.

You thought of colours as you thought of flowers, special and unique in their ways, distinguishable and rather easy to remember once you learned their properties. Flowers have been your escape since a young age when your preschool teacher tasked you with growing little beans, encouraging you to name them and speak to them daily. After that, you had asked your parents whether you could try and cultivate your little garden in your room, and once they’ve given you the go, you had never turned back. The flower shop that you were working at wasn’t yours just yet, but its owner—a lovely middle-aged woman—was considering passing it on to you once she had grown old and tired of her business. You’d gladly take over it as you had no big plans for your future. You were content living in the place you had been born, surrounded by friends and family. You realised you were luckier than most that you could live a comfortable and fulfilled life, and that’s why you always made sure to give back to your community, even if it was something little.

You were just about to walk over to the vase with sunflowers when the doorbell chimed, signalling a new customer. You plastered a small smile to your lips and straightened your back, welcoming the man who had decided to walk inside your store, “Hello, how may I help you?”

“Hi, uhm, it’s my mother’s birthday today.” The man spoke, surprising you with his deep voice. His features were soft and relaxed; it was an unexpected juxtaposition, “Her favourite flowers are Magnolias; do you have any of that?”

You nodded your head, walking over to the vase placed right by the entrance. They were fresh as they had come in just today, so they were gorgeous as they were in bloom, “Silk Magnolias are mostly used for bridal bouquets, but I can make you a simpler one if you want me to.”

“I’d love that, please.” The man said as you two looked at each other, and for some unexplainable reason, your heart skipped a beat. You averted your eyes shily and crouched down to grab three Magnolias, your long skirt brushing past your ankles.

“They go well with Gardenias; would you like me to add some of those too?” You stood back up, realising that since the bouquet would be all white, you could add a deep red coloured ribbon to it, or perhaps even a soft pink one. The challenge, however, would be to find the right nuances since your coworker messed up some of the colours after her shift. You’d be embarrassed to ask the man for a little guidance, and that would be also you assuming that he had found his soulmate already, which would be a bit rude as you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. Due to you being unable to see all colours, everything inside the store was labelled with little post-it notes, bold letters stating the colour of the flowers. With that also came the shelf behind the front counter always being organised after a system that you had already memorised, no need to read the labels anymore. All ribbons and coloured foils were placed in their designated spot so that you’d know which one was which colour, but your coworker had mixed up the black and blue ones, resulting in you embarrassing yourself not even half an hour ago when a customer asked for blue ribbons and you had given them black ones. You quickly fixed your mistake, and the man wasn’t even upset, but your cheeks still burned with shame as now the man knew you still hadn’t met your destined partner.

“Uh, if you think it’ll be pretty, sure.” The man said, walking to the counter as you went behind it to organise the bouquet for him, “May I ask…what colour it’ll be?”

You froze for a second before you hummed, going over to the Gardenias to grab two of them, “White, if that’s alright.”

The man nodded eagerly, letting his green briefcase rest on the counter where it didn’t invade your space, “That’ll be perfect, my mother loves the colour white.”

You smiled as you glanced up at the man, and somehow it seemed as if the sunrays shining through the window were brighter, creating a white haze around him. He looked really pretty with his curly hair falling over his forehead, curling around his cheekbones, and you noted its copper hue with slight admiration. Afraid you were starting to stare, you lowered your eyes and started working on the man’s bouquet. You first made sure all the flowers were fresh and in perfect shape, undamaged by transport, and then cut into the ends a bit. Then you held the Magnolias together, arranging the Gardenias in between and adding a few dark green weeds for a better aesthetic. The handle of the tape was almost black, and you found yourself humming a melody as you taped the flowers together just until you’d tied the ribbon around it. You pulled the bouquet away from your face and felt the customer’s eyes on your face, almost insistent, but you kept working with a small smile on your face, catching a glance at your bright orange nails. You remembered your mother saying that colour might be a bit too bright, but since you couldn’t see it well as it was dulled to your eyes, you decided to still go for it. It was fun, after all.

You turned then and looked at the shelf behind you, tilting your head in wonder. There was the blue ribbon that had embarrassed you earlier, small white dots decorating the fabric, and you found it cute how the pastel colours blended nicely together. You glossed over the black and blue ribbons, they wouldn’t make the white pop right now. You needed something intense and eye-catching—like the burgundy fabric that would look gorgeous in contrast with the white flowers! You grinned triumphantly and grabbed it off the shelf, turning around to tie it tightly around the bouquet, making sure the flowers didn’t move while you worked on making the perfect bow, not too small nor too big. Your chest felt warm, and you were aware of your cheeks burning, but you couldn’t decide whether it had gotten warmer inside the shop or if it was the man’s eyes following your every move that made you feel shy. Nonetheless, you smiled brightly as you raised the bouquet and extended it towards the man. His eyes were slightly wide as they frantically searched your face, and you felt a little disheartened as you couldn’t decipher what his reaction meant. Was your bouquet really that gorgeous, or did he perhaps not like it and wasn’t sure how to voice his thoughts?

“Oh,” You muttered, eyebrows slightly raised as you glanced at the man’s burgundy red hair and then at the ribbon, “The ribbon matches your hair! What a coincidence…”

Your smile froze on your face, your heart stilling in your chest. The ribbon matches your hair, kept repeating in your head like a distant echo as your fingers slightly trembled, your eyes running all over the man in a panic. He was taller than you, a bit buff underneath his dark green suit, tailored to fit his body prettily. His necktie was a light orange, a lighter shade that still matched his beautifully dyed hair, his lips a cherry red much like the small heart-shaped discolouration on his left temple. Your breath stuttered in your chest as your hands fell to the counter, mindful of the bouquet in your hands still.

“You’re…”

“I am.” The man sounded just as winded as you did, a huff of disbelief leaving his mouth, “Your socks are so bright, they match your nail colour.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you laughed, looking down at your socks that peeked out from underneath your skirt. They were bright, really bright actually, a neon colour worse than your nails. You had no idea you even owned them, and you wondered why your mother had never said anything about them.

“The bouquet will be 15€.” You said as you typed the amount into the cash register, and the man nodded, opening his dark green briefcase.

“Right, thank you so much.” The man said, fumbling with his wallet as he opened it, pressing the crumpled-up money on the counter. He reached out for the bouquet but hesitated slightly, and you averted your eyes as your fingers brushed together. You had a feeling it wasn’t by accident, given that the man’s cheeks also flushed pink, eyes abashed, “My mother will love it.”

“Happy birthday to your mother.” You found yourself saying as the man pressed his wallet into the small pocket of his suit jacket, briefcase in his firm grip. You didn’t want him to leave, not yet, but you couldn’t keep him here all day…it was his mother’s birthday, after all.

“I’ll come by tomorrow, same time as today. When does your shift end?” Your heart skipped a beat as the man stumbled into the open front door as he was walking backwards, his eyes not leaving you for one second. You chuckled and bit your bottom lip, playing with the money in your hands.

“I have the morning shift; I’ll be ready to go by the time you make it here.” The man’s lips pulled into a wide smile, lighting his whole face up. He looked gorgeous, and you felt breathless as you watched him wave at you and almost get stuck on the door handle, his cheeks flushing pink again as he finally left the store with haste. He glanced back inside through the huge window, and you told yourself to hold it together until you couldn’t see him anymore, and then came the squeals you could barely contain in front of him, your heart racing a mile. You had to take a seat and press your forehead against the cool counter, and even that didn’t help the warmth from spreading throughout your body as if winter was finally over and the first spring sun was here to warm you up from the inside out. That man was your soulmate. Your fingers trembled as you raised your head, blinking hard.

The world was so…different. Everything had colour, absolutely everything, and you didn’t know how to react to it all. The counter, which you thought was a light green or blue, was actually a cute beige colour, the stickers stuck to it a whirlwind of bright colours. You traced them before looking back up, eyes taking in all the beautiful flowers. You couldn’t believe that you could see the yellowness of the Sunflowers, a little taken back that they looked mustard coloured…or was that right? You hadn’t seen mustard yet, so you couldn’t tell; you’d have to test your theory out once you got home. The Lilies, the purple ones, left you in awe of their beauty, and you couldn’t help but walk over to the blue Orchids and trace their petals with a fond smile. You wondered who the man was as you looked out the window dreamily, your heart racing in your chest uncontrollably. He was a gorgeous person, and he also seemed kind; you couldn’t wish for tomorrow to come faster. You giggled to yourself and hurried back behind the counter, hands shaking as you dialled your boss in your excitement, too eager to tell her that you could see all the colour around you now.

            Your hands trembled as you clocked out, locking eyes with your grinning co-worker. She was a bouncing ball of nerves, even more excited than you over the fact that your soulmate was supposed to show up any time now. You chewed on your bottom lip and smoothed down your kaki long skirt, your black blouse thin so you had to cover up due to the morning chill. Your warm and long coat was a bright orange, and on your way home yesterday, you had realised that orange was slowly becoming your favourite colour. Judging based on your wardrobe, littered in colours you had no idea even existed, you had concluded that even unknowingly, your world had always been infused with colours. Your mother cried, and your father jumped around in happiness when you told them about this new development, right while having dinner, accidentally slipping up by saying sunflowers were definitely not mustard coloured. You had wanted to tell them in a cosier setting, perhaps in a cuter way too, but what was done was done. Your mother then made you call your grandmother, who was groggy since she was getting ready for bed, but the soft smile on her lips told you that she was just as happy for you as your parents, co-worker, and boss.

“What was your first impression of him?” Your co-worker smiled brightly at you, fiddling with a ribbon she had difficulty tying around the thick bouquet.

“He’s just…he seems very sweet and caring.” You heard yourself saying, chewing on your bottom lip as your eyes were glued to the huge window. He was supposed to be here a few minutes ago, but then again, he hadn’t specified an exact time when he’d stop by, “His features are really delicate, but he looks manly still. I love his hair, though; it’s so rich in colour.”

“What colour is it?” Your co-worker followed up with her question quickly, too invested to pay any attention to the bouquet she was supposed to finish in five minutes.

“Burgundy, and he has a matching—” You gasped, eyes widening as the man was here. He wore a tailored suit again, a beaver brown—you’d stayed up until a very late hour last night, researching colours and hues, shades and tones, trying to memorise them all in your rush of excitement—and his tie was a darker orange. Your heart was racing furiously as it felt impossible to look away; your eyes met when the man arrived by the door. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks slightly flushed a light pink colour, and you took a deep breath before you turned to wave at your co-worker. She looked stunned, eyes frozen on the man before her grin spread wider, ushering you out the shop with a squeal. It was embarrassing, but you were more preoccupied with walking straight without having your knees give out as you watched the man open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You lowered your eyes as he hummed, stepping aside to make space for you, “Hi…uhm, it’s lovely seeing you again?”

You wanted to facepalm yourself for making it sound like a question, but the man didn’t seem bothered as he chuckled, ducking his head. His suit jacket was nicely folded over his arm, his white shirt clinging to his body. It had gotten significantly warmer by noon, but you were someone who easily got cold, so you didn’t take your coat off.

“Hi, it’s really nice seeing you, yeah.” Then, the man cleared his throat and looked up with more confidence on his face, “I didn’t introduce myself yesterday. I was honestly too stunned to function properly. My name is Kang Yeosang.”

You extended your hand to shake Yeosang’s hand, your soulmate, and blushed when your skin made contact with his. His palm was bigger than yours, and his skin was really soft, but his grip was confident and strong without hurting you. You told him your name, and his eyes sparkled under the bright sunlight, and you felt yourself unable to look away. Yeosang was gorgeous; seldom did you see a man like him. It felt slightly surreal that he was your soulmate, and you felt extremely lucky all of a sudden. You didn’t know him yet, but something told you he was an amazing person.

“Where would you like us to go?” Yeosang’s question reminded you of the fact that you were still standing outside the flower shop, quite blocking the entrance actually, and you flushed darker when you realised your co-worker was most likely watching the two of you.

“Maybe for a stroll in the park just there?” You pointed across the street, the gates of the lovely park in the heart of the city visible. Yeosang nodded enthusiastically and motioned in front of himself as a way to tell you to lead the way. As you took off, you found yourself walking as close by Yeosang’s side as you could without making it weird, and your heart hadn’t stopped racing ever since you saw him. There was something magnetic about the man, about your soulmate, and you felt like you couldn’t last another day without being in his presence. Matter of fact, you didn’t want to be since you’ve waited twenty-five years for this moment.

“Would you like some coffee? Or tea?” Yeosang asked as you two noticed the small coffee stand at the same time and you hummed, looking at Yeosang a little sheepishly.

“I don’t like coffee, but I really like tea.” Yeosang chuckled, something like endearment appearing on his face as he grabbed your elbow gently and veered you away from the oncoming crowd of teenagers.

“That’s funny. I don’t like tea but basically live off of coffee.” You chuckled too, your eyes meeting as Yeosang walked you two over to the coffee stand. There weren’t a lot of tea options, so you settled for wild berries, glad that the vendor had some homemade honey for you to mix with your tea instead of sugar. Yeosang asked for a simple black coffee with ice, a bit of milk and one spoonful of sugar, and you found yourself reciting his order in your mind until you could recall it easily.

With your drinks in your hands, you headed for the crosswalk, having to wait since it was red for the pedestrians. The street was bustling with many people at this hour, and not everyone was as self-aware as you—and it seemed like Yeosang, too—so they either didn’t look where they walked or purposefully pushed people around to get further to the front. You had to make space for a guy on his phone, not paying even a little bit of attention to those around himself as you, too, could hear the music coming from his headphones. You tried to make space for everyone, but before you could step behind Yeosang, you felt fingers sneaking between yours, a warm palm pressed against yours as you were gently guided into Yeosang’s side. His eyes were still sparkling, his cheeks were red—not as red as the discolouration on his temple—and you thought for a second you could hear his rapidly beating heart.

“Is this okay?” He asked almost too quietly for you to hear with the honking cars and loudly conversing people, but you did catch it, and you nodded eagerly, making sure to squeeze Yeosang’s hand for extra confirmation.

“Yes! More than okay, actually.” You sounded more confident than you felt, and Yeosang was suddenly smiling widely, his cheeks pulled up and making him look the softest. Before you could do something as crazy as lean up and nuzzle your nose against his, the light turned green, and you followed the crowd, crossing the street. The walk to the park’s entrance was quiet, your hands fitting perfectly into each other’s, and you revelled in the comfort of it all as Yeosang occasionally glanced at you. The park wasn’t as packed as the sidewalks, and you could freely roam around without bumping into anyone, and yet, your hands stayed intertwined.

“So,” You spoke up, taking a sip of your tea before you faced Yeosang while walking, “What do you do for work? I’m a florist, but you know that much about me already.”

Yeosang hummed, facing you with that adorable small smile on his lips, “I’m a daycare teacher. The school isn’t far from here. You actually saved me yesterday. I was running late for my mother’s birthday dinner, and I thought there weren’t any flower shops close by.”

You chuckled, veering Yeosang away from the flock of birds that didn’t look too friendly, “Did your mother like the bouquet?”

“Yes, she loved it, thank you.” Yeosang then stopped, tilting his head with furrowed eyebrows, “I told them…my parents…that I found my soulmate, and they, well, uhm, they want to meet you. I know it’s too soon, and I asked them to wait a little bit until we’ve gotten to know each other, but they are just too impatient and excited to finally meet you.”

You felt your heart swell and almost burst out of your chest as your smile grew into a wide grin. You didn’t even realise it, but you had taken a step closer to Yeosang, smiling up at him so widely that your cheeks ached. Yeosang looked stunned for a second before he returned your smile, biting his lower lip as he averted his gaze down to the ground, “I’d love that, but I want to do what makes you feel comfortable. If you think we should wait, then we will; if not…just let me know when it’s good for you and your parents.”

Yeosang nodded, his eyes finding yours, “You are so kind.”

“You are too, Yeosang.” You chuckled, and it was your time to look down. Yeosang seemed to feel proud over that compliment before he took off, guiding the two of you through the park.

“I don’t feel like we are rushing, but I think it’s more responsible if we go on a few dates first.” You felt like a high school girl, wanting to squeal over the fact that you’d be going on dates with Yeosang, “My parents are nice people, but they are…well, they had gotten a bit desperate about me finding my soulmate. Honestly, they thought you were dead.”

Well, that thought had never crossed your mind before, but it definitely didn’t sit well with you as you looked at Yeosang with a frown. His expression looked neutral, but he squeezed your hand, “I’m twenty-seven, so they think I’m too old to be single. My parents’ families were close friends, so they’ve always known they are soulmates. They had it easy, so it was weird seeing their son struggle to find his soulmate.”

“Did it hurt you? That you sought me out without success for so long?” You found yourself asking, curious to know how Yeosang felt. He seemed to think for a second, humming as he looked down at his cup of coffee.

“It was frustrating at first, mostly because my parents were also pressuring me.” He looked at you from the corner of his eyes, then shrugged, “Then I realised I wouldn’t find you faster if I made myself mull over it, so I just let it go. Since we are fated to be together, I realised I couldn’t trick fate and quicken the process.”

You hummed in agreement, realising you’ve had a similar mindset to Yeosang’s for the past one or two years, “I’m twenty-five and had lost hope at some point. My parents, similar to yours, met very early on, in middle school. I thought I’d also find my soulmate around that time, and when it didn’t happen, I thought it would come in high school…but then that didn’t happen either, and I felt disheartened, like something was wrong with me. And then I realised I can’t push something that isn’t meant to happen just yet.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” Yeosang’s answer was quick, his hand squeezing yours as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t apologise, the wait was worth it in the end.” You giggled, averting your eyes shily.

“Yeah?” Yeosang sounded surprised, perhaps even a bit cocky, “You think so?”

“I think that you’re very handsome, Yeosang, and soft.” There was no reason to be embarrassed in front of your soulmate, certainly not when it came to complimenting him, “You have an aura of kindness and brightness around you; I think it’s everything I wanted in a partner.”

Yeosang was smiling widely again, nodding his head as he became shy once again, “You’re cute and vibrant; your smile makes my heart race. I’m thankful that you are my soulmate.”

You stopped walking, the sudden urge to hug Yeosang wasn’t something you could control, so you threw your arms around his torso and leaned into him, smiling to yourself as your head landed on his shoulder. Yeosang’s arms were quick to go around you, squeezing you into himself, and you realised he smelled like oranges and fresh grass, refreshing and calming. You loved the fresh smell of nature, and you loved Yeosang’s natural fragrance. You heard a chuckle, and suddenly something was plucked out of your hair, making your eyebrows furrow as you slightly pulled back, looking at Yeosang’s hand. A dry leaf was between his fingers, his expression amused.

“You’re like a garden fairy, do bees gravitate towards you during summer?” You laughed and shook your head, feeling a bit embarrassed as Yeosang pocketed the leaf instead of letting it fall to the ground. Your cheeks burned as you two let go of each other, fingers naturally intertwining as you headed for a bench, “Why did you choose to become a florist?”

You sat down on the bench, facing each other, and Yeosang’s knee brushed lightly against your thigh. You held your cup of tea in both hands, playing with it as you looked down in your lap, “Well, I just really love nature. I’ve always felt at ease around my little plants in my room, and then I realised I just really love flowers. They are so beautiful and tender, you have to nurture them and take care of them as if they were human. I feel like I have a connection to nature; it’s like I can be completely myself around all that beauty—and the colours! Oh, I love their colours, they are so gorgeous! I’m so glad you walked into the shop yesterday. I had no idea I was missing out on—so much!”

Yeosang watched with fascination on his face as you spoke, a little overexcited that he wanted to hear your hobbies and likes. It was only normal; you’d have to gradually get to know each other, yet it still felt surreal that the sky was an almost transparent blue, the clouds completely white, the barks of the trees various shades of brown, the grass so green, all the leaves, and all the colourful flowers. You loved seeing all the colour on people, too, how they expressed themselves by their outfits, all the colours inside buildings and outside. You’d have to buy some more colourful furniture for your room since it’s mostly beige and yellow. You wanted to cover your world in the colours of the rainbow, in every possible hue and shade.

“Yes, the world is so…intense now, vibrant. It’s impressive how I could live without it all.” Yeosang’s deep voice was soft and quiet as if he was speaking to himself, “I like being in nature, surrounded by wildlife, away from the noisy city. We could go on hikes and maybe even camping.”

You nodded eagerly, having fond memories of the hikes you had gone on with your friends and family, “I’d really love that, Yeosang. I’ve always wanted to go camping, but my parents don’t like bugs, so we never stayed out after nightfall.”

Both you and Yeosang laughed at that, and then you were eager to learn too about Yeosang, “I imagine you love children since you are a daycare teacher; how did you realise that?”

“It’s nothing too revolutionary,” Yeosang chuckled, finishing his cup of coffee, “I would babysit for our neighbours when I was a teenager, and then my cousin had a baby brother, and I’d spend a lot of time with them. As I was growing up, I realised I was fond of those little ones, so…it just happened, I guess.”

You nodded, understanding him, “Would you want children?”

The answer was obvious to that, but you still wanted to ask, “Definitely, if you’d also like to have children, of course.”

Your whole face flushed, and you coughed, a little taken off-guard by Yeosang’s direct answer. His eyebrows raised and his ears flushed, and suddenly he was stumbling over his words, “I mean—like, whoever is my partner, I care about that! You know, like, whatever my partner wants—whether it’s you or someone else, not that I’m thinking of anyone else—but I’m just…yeah, I think that was too soon, wasn’t it?”

He was adorable, you had to shield your mouth with your hand as you laughed quietly, shaking your head at Yeosang, “I mean, since we are soulmates, I don’t think any topic is too soon, Yeosang.”

“Yeah?” Yeosang asked, not quite looking at you yet, “Right, I mean, sure, that makes sense.”

Comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you picked a stray string off Yeosang’s knee. He watched you quietly, taking in your serene expression, and your eyes met as you raised your head. You smiled at Yeosang without saying anything for a second, then chuckled, this whole situation feeling unreal. Just yesterday, your whole world was covered in grey and hues of brown, amber and copper—and now, your soulmate sat next to you on a bench, the world infused with so much colour you still weren’t used to it, and to top it off, your soulmate was kind and loving, good with children and soft-spoken despite his uncharacteristically deep voice. His face was gentle, his features almost as if they were sculpted by Greek Gods, his burgundy hair even curlier than yesterday as it was pinned back by a little pink bow, and it made you wonder if it was a child from the daycare that had placed it there. Yeosang’s expression looked a bit baffled as you continued to stare at him without saying a word, and not wanting to look weird, you spoke up, “I’m just admiring you because I cannot believe you are real.”

A surprised gasp left Yeosang’s lips at your words, and he didn’t shy away this time, leaning forward to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You grinned as he caressed your cheek, his palm warm and his skin soft, and for a second, you forgot there was anyone else in the world beside the two of you, “I’m as real as it can be, and I’m here to stay, by your side, for an eternity, Y/N.”

And your heart skipped another beat hearing his words, your body freezing when Yeosang suddenly started leaning towards you. You were ready, if he wanted to kiss you, then you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as it felt like your heart was in your throat, but instead of kissing your lips, you felt something warm press against your cheek, underneath your left eye, then your right eye, and it felt more intimate than any other kiss. You bit your bottom lip and opened your eyes, staring deeply into Yeosang’s rich brown ones, an almost red-like hue licking around his irises.

“Would you like to spend the rest of your day with me, Yeosang?”

“I don’t think I want to spend any time away from you from now on, Y/N.”

And you knew in your heart, in your whole being, that the future ahead of you two was bright, vibrant, gentle, and so, so colourful.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY & BVIDZSOO 2025 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating our work is not allowed.

[perfectsoyeggz]

Creepy Harley Headcanons because he's a freak of nature

Disclaimer: hes NOT a sexual creep, I despise those hcs, but hes just very offputting in a uncanny way.

- The most agreed one is he does have a staring problem. Like, REALLY bad, he stares at you like he's thinking about something but won't say it.

- Gets very up close and personal when he's talking to someone, does not care about personal space (unless it's his own ofc)

- Very weird smile, it looks too big, too much teeth. Something is wrong with it. Also him smiling at inappropriate moments.

More below:3

- Can come and go without making a sound. He'll suddenly be right behind you without you noticing until he speaks or puts a hand on your shoulder.

- Walks around the factory at night whistling, he always stays after closing, even if he's not really supposed to be there. Also will play classical music from his office at night, sounds terrifying to the security guards.

- Knows way too much about people, its easy for him to remember names and faces, so he easily could put together a profile of information and secrets about almost everyone he's spoken to.

- Will make weird random comments then completely change the subject. Ex: "I'd take caution when leaving today. Never know what may happen." Then talking about experiments again. (He does this for his own amusement)

- His veins are very prominent naturally (not exactly creepy but a headcanon nonetheless)

- Keeps mice taxidermy (I love taxidermy so no hate but he'd definitely have some) I also imagine he'd somehow get a taxidermied human hand. How he got it? Probably best not to ask.

- Talks in his sleep, like, saying "there's someone in the window." Or "They're coming to get me"

[arciam]

Underrated JayVik moments/lines (15/∞)

"You had a vision?"

This entry is very loosely inspired by a post I saw about how Jayce really ought to be more bewildered by the fact that Viktor just told him he had a vision while tripping balls on his own lung-blood inside the HexGates. /paraphrased

I know on this blog we like to lovingly rip into Jayce for being a serial fumbler at supporting the casual love of his life (or no, I don't really like to do that - I love both my boys and just wish they didn't have to stay miserable until two minutes before annihilation is all), but this made me think of how there is one way in which Jayce is actually much "better" at supporting Viktor than the other way around.

See, Viktor - by virtue of being a person of uncompromising principles - is prone to the pitfall of... not being very generous with regards to other people's perceived failings or weaknesses. Or his own, for that matter.

Jayce isn't exempt from this - furthest thing from it, in fact.

Yes, Viktor does always quickly forgive (and doesn't forget) Jayce's numerous blunders. But that doesn't negate the fact that anytime Jayce ventures outside Viktor's expectations of who he is - or who he could be, ought to be -, the dissatisfaction is immediate, sharp and unfaltering. While Viktor's love for Jayce is unconditional, his approval most certainly isn't.

That's not a bad thing in itself; Viktor is (generally speaking) entitled to his disapproval, and as I said, it is merely the flipside of his strong convictions.

However, compare this to Jayce, who doesn't seem to have any set expectations whatsoever as to who Viktor should be. Or the decisions he should make. Jayce will happily go along with any twist and turn in Viktor's thought processes and actions, not only because they are fascinating to him, but because he trusts and admires Viktor implicitly.

(To my knowledge, the only time Jayce expresses discontentment with an action taken by pre-Herald Viktor is during their argument on the bridge, which is driven by immense worry and fear on Jayce's part, and he also backpedals immediately.)

Here are some examples of Jayce not beating the golden retriever allegations embracing Viktor unconditionally:

You're suggesting we should amplify the power of the thing that blew up half a building yesterday? Let's roll!

You're snapping at me for taking my new job too seriously? Yeah, guess I deserve that...

You had a vision? (While tripping balls on your lung-blood?) Tell me more!

The thing that came to you in said vision is making plants scream now? You're so cool, Vik.

You carved runes in your skin and started experimenting on yourself in ways your mentor said would make everyone hate you? "I did my best using the notes from your leg, recorded everything!"

Those experiments pulverised our only assistant? ...We can fix that.

You're leaving because affection isn't holding us together anymore..? Well, I'll stay and sleep here in case you come back, I guess...

You've lost your mind and got me in the exact position where I already saw my future corpse? Eh - I'll close my eyes and trust that you'll come to your senses in time.

The fact that - for however subject to change most of everything else about Jayce was - the love and acceptance Singed told Viktor he would have to forfeit in order to live never once wavered for even a second... it just kind of gets to me, okay?

Part 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15

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[zepskies]

LOL YESS I love Fools Rush In!!! One of my favorite movies ever, especially for the Latina representation! 🥰❤️‍🔥

I’m honestly loving on hating Lisa. I didn’t dislike her in canon or anything, but I always felt that she was the wrong choice for Dean to go back to - should’ve been Cassie - and I love how you’ve used her and chosen the other characters for this!

Yeah I really enjoyed Cassie, but I was hardcore Dean x Lisa when I was watching the show because I just wanted Dean to have a family, and Lisa held him down after the S5 devastation. 💙 But in this story Lisa didn't mature as much (as she did after having Ben in canon), so she's rather catty. 😭 You might come to have a wee bit of sympathy for her in Part 2 (or maybe not lol).

It’s kind of rare to see the reader is best friends with Sam? At least, I haven’t seen it that often, and I love how supportive and clued in he was! If only reader got along with the other bridesmaids a little better (Urgh, know the feeling).

Yeah that very well could be rare! It was actually part of the request for the reader to be Sam's best friend, so it was fun to play off him being supportive to her as well as trying to get Dean to see sense lmao. (Ugh, I'm sorry you can relate to catty bridesmaids. 😭)

Also, I see you with the little nods to Smoke Eater and the use of After School Special 😁✌️ what a great start!

lol yessss I'm so glad you caught those little easter eggs and tidbits! 😘💗💗

I’m super curious if there’s going to be more than two chapters? I can’t see how you can squeeze in the romantic happy ending that you do so well into this, as well as give us a taste of drama. Can’t wait for part two! Oh and, Red Velvet a cake is the BOMB!!

Oooh you'll see loll. Part 2 is a beast of a chapter at over 13K, but it's going to contain all those dramatic ups and downs, as well as one of those romantic happy endings I always promise. 🥰 Stay tuned, friend!

Oh heeeells yeah, red velvet is one of my favorites! 😋❤️❤️

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

⋆˙⟡ Read Part 2 on Patreon now!

⋆˙⟡ Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 3/23

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[purplxbuttxrfly]

Rin Itoshi :Jealousy ♡

°•°•Synopsis. Rin is completely in love with you and therefore has complete trust in you, but that doesn't mean he isn't jealous.

°•°• Note. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

°•°•cw. Rin Itoshi x Female!Reader!Mention!of!Jealousy!Fluff

Oh my god I'm so in love with Rin that I got a little carried away in this writing.

Rin Itoshi is known for being a cold, insensitive, slightly emo player who never smiles or very rarely smiles, and especially as someone who HATES physical contact. But that's only as a player, and it's also the image he wants to show others. He absolutely doesn't want to show his true personality to everyone, but you're not everyone.

You are his life partner, and you are the only person in this world that Rin lets see his true personality and his weaknesses. It took time, a lot of time, but it was worth it because now he trusts you completely.

Rin loves you so much that sometimes it hurts him. He's in pain because he's afraid you'll leave him to go with someone better than him, because yes, he knows he's not the best companion. He's in pain because he's afraid you won't love him as much as he loves you. He's in pain, he's suffering so much his heart is overflowing with love for you and he doesn't know how to express this love. Rin Itoshi is literally lovesick for his girlfriend.

Rin is cold and hates physical contact, but only on the surface, because all it takes is slipping your hand into his to make him melt with love for you. With you, Rin is like a big teddy bear who exists for one thing: to be kissed and cuddled by you.

Rin is afraid that you'll leave him for someone else, that's a fact. So naturally he became jealous. And especially of Sae. So you don't understand why because the only times you've talked to him are at the Itoshi family meals. And he totally trusts you, but sometimes he just can't help himself. Like that time you went to the nail salon to get new nails done. When you came home with your new nails, all happy and proud of your choice of design, you rushed to the couch where Rin was sitting looking at his phone. You arrive in front of him all smiles and wait for him to see you.

"Yes, what is it?"

He said, looking up at you.

" Look, what do you think?" You say, waving your painted fingers in front of his face.

He stared at your nails with a disinterested look, as he didn't care at all, until a detail on your left ring fingernail caught his attention. On this one, the number "10" had been painted in white.

" Why the number 10? "

You were glad he noticed and asked, because adding that detail just for him had cost a little more.

"Because 10 is my lucky number," You say.

" And since when? It seemed to me that it had always been the 22nd. Why did you change it?"

Damn, he figured you out. You're going to have to tell him the real reason. Honestly, you were a little disappointed he didn't figure it out on his own.

"Well, because 10 is your player number, Rin."

He suspected it a little, but when you confirmed it to him with that disappointed little face, he couldn't help but find you adorable. However, he also felt a certain jealousy.

" Why with an "R" or my first name, it's short enough to be written on your nail"

You're confused by the hint of hostility in his voice.

" Because I've done this the last few times, I wanted something new, and I thought putting your player number would be nice."

" Okay great, but you know I'm not the only soccer player wearing number 10, right? "

He tells you this as if you had done something serious.

" Like who? Tell me? "

" Like Sae..." He said these words coldly.

You sigh. Here we go again.

"But who cares about Sae! "

"Yeah, but it's still his number too."

"But who cares, I had it written with YOU in mind and for YOU!" You say, emphasizing the "you" of course.

" Okay that's all right"

" Rin...tell me why you're looking for enemies where there aren't any? Don't you trust me?"

" No, I trust you, but I don't trust others."

At that moment, you find him cute. You sit down next to him and hug him. And Rin knows at that moment that he's cracked your heart a little with his misplaced jealousy. He places his phone on the table before wrapping his arms around your back. Then, once he's holding you close, he gently lets himself lie down on the couch, ending up with you lying on top of him.

"Sorry if I hurt you," He breathes softly.

"Even if you broke my heart, I would still love you, because you are the only one who has my heart." You answer him.

Your words have the effect of making him fall even more in love with you, and he didn't think that was possible, because he was sure that he had already given you all the love he could offer.

Rin then thinks that all those fangirls who express on social media how lucky you are to be dating him are wrong. He's the one who's so lucky to have you as his girlfriend.

But even though Rin is very jealous, you can't say that you're innocent either. You're even more jealous than him sometimes. And let's be honest, Rin really likes it when you're jealous of another girl who's a little too close to him for your liking.

Once, while you were shopping, you were trying on summer dresses that you liked, not forgetting to show each one to your boyfriend. When you opened the door to your office to show Rin your latest dress, he complimented you before handing you another dress. He had noticed it while you were changing, and upon closer inspection, he was convinced that this one would suit you perfectly.

You take it to try it on and at that moment, you hear Rin's phone ring. He tells you he's leaving the store to answer it while you put on the dress.

After ten minutes, his call ends, and as he hangs up and is about to go back to you, he feels an arm grab his. Thinking it's you, he turns his head with one of those cute smiles he only gives you.

"You are here my lov..."

"Hello, you're all alone."

It wasn't you. It was another woman desperately clinging to his arm.

" I'm sorry, but I have to go meet my girlfriend. " He said with a cold, dark look.

" Oh come on, there's no point in acting. I've been watching you for five minutes and you're alone. Come on, come with me. "

You watch the scene from the store's checkout as you pay for your dresses. You keep smiling despite the storm of jealousy going on in your head. You thank the cashier and wish her a good day, still with a pretty smile, but the moment you step out of the store, your smile falls and you stare at the woman clinging to your boyfriend's arm. You walk towards them, putting on an angelic smile again.

" Rinni, I'm here. We can continue. "

He freezes when he hears your voice. He'd noticed the hint of anger in it. You approach them before grabbing onto Rin's other arm.

" Hello, may I know what you are doing to my boyfrie....my husband? "

Oh my god, if you weren't in a public place, he would have died of happiness right there the moment the words "my husband" came out of your mouth.

"Your husband?" Said the woman. "Yet I don't see any wedding rings on his finger, nor on yours."

She's looking for war, you think.

" What good does it do to you? He is then taken to let go of the pieces and leave it. "

You say, claiming your property (Rin), making sure to place his arm between your breasts. And this gesture cannot leave Rin unmoved when he feels your chest pressing against him. He then takes the initiative to lean in to kiss you.

Seeing this, the woman sighs before leaving.

" It was about time"

You say, taking Rin with you.

" You are pretty when you are jealous "

" Oh my god, shut up..."

Despite your firm words, Rin saw the redness on the tips of your ears appear when he told you that you were pretty.

In most couples, jealousy is only a source of arguments and separation, but for Rin Itoshi and you, each other's jealousy only brings you closer and closer ♡

Do not copy, do not translate

[paulyenvol6]

As Slow As You Need (Chapter 2)

Marcus Acacius x female reader

Idea by @mrspascalsworld <3

This is the second part of this fanfiction, but there are not many references to the first part, so you could consider this a separate one-shot. Enjoy and there will definitely also be a part 3 :))

Contains: sexual harrassment/assault and attempted rape (not done by Acacius!), soft!Acacius, lots of angst and panic, Acacius being sweet and caring and obsessed with you, fluff, comfort, crying, so many declarations of love, age gap (reader is 23, Acacius' age is not specified but he gets called 'old' a couple of times), mentions of fighting in battles

Wordcount: 8,773

Masterlist

The room was filled with music and chatter people dancing and twirling around but you only had eyes for Acacius.

You needed him close to your body all the time; a hand clinging to his arm or feeling his hand on your thigh and occasionally you feared that he would find you annoying or too needy but soon you realized that your worries were unnecessary.

It was the contrary really; Acacius seeked your presence just as you did his and didn't miss a chance to wrap a possessive arm around your waist or press soft kisses to your cheek. You felt comfortable. Embraced and protected by the man at your side finding that you could overcome anything in the world if only your husband was by your side.

But as it turned out the night didn't continue to be so harmonious and peaceful because at some point you actually ended up separated from Acacius which immediately made you miss the warmth of his body right next to you. A high general had approached him and asked for a private conversation and of course your husband didn't have a choice but to leave you for a moment after squeezing your hand and promising to be back soon.

Now you were alone sipping on your cup of wine while your eyes traveled over the scene before you. It was the first time that all the other generals, politicians and their wives had your undivided attention because Acacius was out of sight - and therefore unable to distract you - and so you took in the people, some familiar faces among them and some new ones.

You were just slowly strolling over the dance floor when someone cleared their throat behind you and so you turned around and the corner of your mouth dropped at the sight of Emperor Geta giving you his creepiest smile.

"My lady," he purred taking your hand in his sweaty one and kissing it.

"Emperor. What an honour it is," you politely spoke although you felt the little hairs on your arms standing up.

He was a difficult human being and saying that you felt uncomfortable in his presence was an understatement. If only Acacius was here at least, you thought searching the room for him but it seemed like he wasn't back yet. Geta straightened up again placing a hand on your bare shoulder which made you slightly twitch and then got closer. Too close for your taste and you unconsciously moved backwards a little.

"Do you think General Acacius is aware of the fact that he is the luckiest man in this room tonight?" Geta said with his oily voice that rang in your ears like shrilly bells pursing his lips while you hoped you were able to hide the disgust on your face.

"Perhaps even the luckiest man alive when I think about it," he continued seemingly blind to your distaste for this conversation. "You're the most beautiful, stunning and thrilling girl in this room, darling. You're radiating."

You clenched your jaw at his words a few angry tears welling in your eyes because Acacius was the only person you wanted to hear you call 'darling'. And yet there was nothing you could do, the man was simply complimenting you and as much as you hated it, you were supposed to thank him and so you forced your lips to curl into a smile and bowed your head.

"Thank you, emperor. That is a very high compliment."

Geta nodded in satisfaction raising his chin but still wasn't finished with his speech.

"You know… You should really visit me and my brother more often. Most of the time it's either Acacius alone or the two of you but I just want you to know that you are welcome any time. You are a friend. And I know that Acacius tends to be so possessive and protective over what he thinks is his but… I am your friend. He should know that too."

You avoided Geta's eye contact anxiously fumbling with your hands that were folded on your stomach your thoughts racing. It had sounded like a threat and you started to panic the longer you were in his presence.

"Thank you, emperor. I appreciate hearing that," you breathed nevertheless but almost choked when you felt his clammy hand on your chin.

"Look at me when I speak to you," he whispered nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. "You are so pretty. Such a pretty girl… I'm not sure if Acacius deserves you. I find that he is way too rough and old for such a delicate thing like you."

You swallowed loudly unable to move feeling your trembling hands clench around the fabric of your dress as though it could give you some stress relief. The stinging pain in your chest only increased when Geta toyed with a strand of your hair hanging in your face and you held your breath panic controlling your senses although there were dozens of people in the room with you. The rational side of you knew that he couldn't harm you in here but it was overshadowed by fright and anxiety that you couldn't hold back no matter how hard you tried.

You had a feeling that Geta knew exactly what he was doing to you and perhaps even enjoyed to make you uncomfortable but soon he finally let go off you dropping his hand and giving you one last mischievous glance before taking a step back.

"It was lovely to talk to you, sweetheart. I'll be looking forward to seeing you soon."

This time you threw courtesy aside and did not reply, too focused on inhaling and calming your pounding heart in your chest, and by then Geta had disappeared into the crowd and you were alone again.

When you felt a hand on your arm you twitched and jolted away fearing that the emperor might have changed his mind and returned to you but the rough warm skin was familiar. Your widened eyes relaxed and so did the rest of your body as you turned around to look into Acacius' deep brown eyes.

"Y/n, what is it?" he worriedly asked obviously having noticed the way you had flinched at the physical contact and looked you up and down for any hint for what had happened.

"It's alright," you pressed feeling flooded with love for him and you once again realized how well he was able to calm you down merely by being with you.

"My love," Acacius whispered taking both your hands and bringing them to his mouth to kiss the back of them while still not letting you out of sight for a second.

"You're jumpy. What happened?"

You thought about it for a moment and then let your eyes wander over the people around you, suddenly uncomfortable in the middle of the room surrounded by so many people.

"Can we go back to our table?"

"Of course. Let's go," you perceived your husband's soothing voice and blindly followed him as he led you across the room to your chairs. Here everything was a lot quieter, only a few people sitting around you as most of them were chatting and dancing in the center of the room.

Acacius sat down next to you his hand immediately cradling your face and then he kissed your forehead whispering words of comfort.

"Tell me, darling. I know you. Something happened while I was gone, right?"

You dropped your gaze feeling Acacius' concerned eyes on you and nodded slightly.

"It is nothing of great significance, Acacius. I was just caught off guard," you whispered with a quivering voice gulping loudly before continuing.

"Emperor Geta talked to me for a little while," you said so quietly that you almost weren't sure whether your husband had even heard you. "I just… I wasn't very comfortable. You know him and you know how… he can be frightening."

Acacius' mouth tensed before coming down to kiss your brow once more, then running his thumb over the area under your eyes chewing on his bottom lip as he watched your terrified face.

"Oh darling... I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry I wasn't there."

It seemed like he wanted to say something else but you straightened up before he could forcing a slight smile to appear on your face as you scooted closer to his hand on the side of your face.

"But I would really like to forget about it, Acacius. Let us talk about something else."

He raised his eyebrows scanning your face for any signs of uncertainty but your expression softened up at the sight of your loving husband and soon all he could see in your face was the craving to be embraced by him.

"Are you sure?" he asked bringing his hand to your waist to run some soothing circles over your clothed skin with his thumb and smiled when he provoked a little laugh in you.

"Yes. I just want to think about something else. You, perhaps."

Acacius wasn't entirely convinced yet but wanting to serve you and your needs he nodded pulling your chair a little closer to his and wrapping an arm around your back.

"Alright. Think about me then."

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days passed without any important events happening and you soon didn't think about your unpleasant encounter with Geta anymore. Your days were filled with both joy and quietness as you spent the days in the gardens beneath the sun caring for your flowers and herbs and the evenings and nights with Acacius.

You would eat on the terrace, the air still delightfully warm from the hot day but not so much that you would break into sweat. Then you would sit with him for hours, laughing and enjoying the various delicacies on the plates, until Acacius would carry you inside and when the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon, the moon and stars having replaced it in the night sky, he would make love to you.

He would carefully trap you underneath him, pleasuring you with his fingers or mouth until you had collapsed underneath him what felt like a thousand times, and then melt with you in deep, slow thrusts. It was these moments you thought about the days after during lunch or while you were reading, biting your lip at the memory and unconsciously shifting in your seat. Acacius and you were meant for each other, that much you knew, because he felt perfect in you like the gods had created him to become one with you.

It was a warm summer night when you lay on your back with your eyes open, unable to find sleep.

You were at peace just like your body was. Acacius was sprawled out next to you, eyes closed his breath going steadily and despite feeling the urge to snuggle against his chest inhaling his scent until sleep would wash over you, you sat up in your bed staring into the darkness.

You needed fresh air and chose to find it in a short stroll through the gardens with the hope you could go to sleep then. You glanced at Acacius one last time smirking at the way his lips were parted a little and lightly kissed his cheek before leaving the bed. You would just walk through the gardens for a couple of minutes, enjoy the clear and peaceful night and then return to your bed to huddle against your husband.

Without making a noise you put on a cloak to cover your body that was quite exposed by the thin nightgown you wore right now and then sneaked out of the chambers.

You loved to stroll around the villa in the nights and compare it to the busy hustle and bustle during the day. Where servants were carrying beverages and food, important messages and books from one room to the other during the day, the quietness now laid upon the villa like a muffling blanket covering everything which led to a haunting silence that would have scared you a little had you not known this place so well by now.

You inhaled greedily feeling that the pleasantly cool air was just what you needed right now and yet pulled the cloak tighter around your body so you wouldn't catch a cold. Then you passed the different doors leading to the library, the kitchens and all the other rooms until you found yourself in the garden of the mansion.

Your senses perceived new scents and noises now, the chirping of the crickets, the smell of roses and lavender and the howl of a dog from afar. You liked this because you felt that when you spent time in the gardens in the daylight there were so many other things happening around you that you couldn't focus on these kinds of impressions.

After passing your favourite spot of the garden, the oleander and geranium patches, you sat down on a bench crossing your legs and looking up to the sky. It was a beautiful clear night with many stars visible and you wished Acacius would be here to tell you the names of them. But since he was sound asleep in the bed where you were supposed to be right now as well, you settled with just watching the celestial bodies and got lost in the beauty of the night.

That was until you heard a noise behind you that made your whole body flinch and your heart sank into your legs. 'It surely was just an animal,' you assured yourself turning your head to find the source but the only thing that moved were the branches and leaves of the olive tree a few feet away from you.

'This is odd,' you found but tried to stay calm. Why should anyone be out here at such late hour? Your eyes ran over where the noise had come from again but since you couldn't find anything suspicious you averted your gaze staring ahead of you but feeling a chill run down your body. Suddenly you felt cold and wished to lay in Acacius' arms where it was safe and so you rose from the bench with the intention to go back inside the house but then you heard the noise again and then as you suddenly saw a person approaching you you shrieked jolting away.

"Shhh…," a familiar voice cut through the air and a cold shiver ran down your spine. It was Geta and he certainly was the last person you wished to see right now although a part of you was glad it wasn't a stranger who would murder you in cold blood.

"W-What are you doing here so late at night?" your thin voice asked taking another step backwards but Geta followed you his face scarily lit by the moonlight. He frightened you even more now that the two of you were alone in the dark and your heart pounded loudly your mind racing as you tried to come up with a plan to escape this scene as quickly as possible.

"I think the same what you have been doing, little bee." He giggled his lips curling into a gruesome smile that made the blood in your veins freeze.

"Aren't you a little bee? Always fleeing to your gardens when you need a moment alone. But don't worry, little bee, I won't bother you. You won't even notice that I'm here."

He chuckled again aimlessly walking around you while you were stiff like a wooden plank. He frightened you more than anything right now because he seemed so lighthearted and peaceful but what if he snapped once you told him that you wanted to leave? Geta was unpredictable, going from being fake friendly and giggly to cruel in a matter of seconds.

"Why are you here alone anyway?" he suddenly asked his piercing brown eyes fixed on your face his lips pursing in a smug pout. "Why did your husband not accompany you?"

"H-He is s-sleeping," you stuttered your hands toying with the hem of your cloak that you were very thankful you had put on right now.

"Mhmm, I see…," Geta hummed watching you as if he was thinking.

The air was tense and thin making you tremble with panic because this whole encounter was so strange and scary to you. What was he doing here and how could you politely tell him that you preferred to go to bed now?

"I-I…," you began eyes on the ground. "I think…"

Before you could say anything else Geta had rushed towards you putting a hand under your chin to make you look up to him his mouth once again forming an arrogant smile.

"Oh sweet girl…," he sighed. "No need to be so nervous. Aren't you such a good little girl… Always so polite and endearing. And so pretty to look at."

He moved closer to you, so close that your heart skipped a beat a new wave of panic creeping up on you and you saw red.

"No," you said your hands coming up to push away his hands that attempted to take hold of your face but Geta raised his eyebrows in a disapproving manner taking both your wrists in one hand while his other traced your jawline.

"No?"

He let out a disgusting chuckle showing you his teeth. "You're saying no to your emperor? You better think about it one more time."

Your trapped hands writhed and moved in order to make him let go but his grip was like iron keeping them pressed to your body and when he lowered his face towards yours your chest rose rapidly, your eyes wide and the fear evident in the way your face was twisted.

"No. No, stop it, please," you pleaded turning your head away from him but Geta's hand clasped your chin keeping you in place and then his lips crashed against yours forcing a cold and hard kiss on you who whined in resistance trembling under the assault.

"Stop it. You have to stop, please," you mumbled against his mouth and then you finally managed to succeed in your fighting kicking Geta against his shinbone making him hiss out in anger and he pulled back a little which gave you enough time to free your hands.

You turned on the spot rushing towards the door that would lead you back inside but you had barely taken one step when Geta's hand wrapped around your upper arm pulling you back and making your body crash against his chest.

You didn't know how you ended up that way but the next thing you felt was the earth beneath you, your hands pinned down above your head and Geta's strong body on top of you caging you between the ground and himself. By now you were crying and sobbing uncontrollably squirming and kicking with your feet but in this new position there was nothing you could do against the significantly stronger man. And all he did… was laugh. His jaw was clenched but he gave you an evil smile that quickly turned into a chuckle when he watched your attempts to free yourself.

"L-Let me g-go. P-Please, d-don't," you begged him because you believed it was your only chance. You didn't have any power over him right now so you had to convince him that this wouldn't have a good outcome for the both of you.

"I don't think so," Geta said almost looking as if he had genuinely thought about your words and then lowered his face once more lips pressing against yours who refused to let his greedy tongue enter your mouth. Then he wrapped a hand around your throat forcing you to stay in place as he examined you closely eyes flashing and spitting with a mixture of anger you couldn't explain yourself and plain amusement.

"So fucking pretty. And so beautifully delicate and young."

He traced the veins on your neck scratching your sensitive skin with his nails and then all of a sudden spit on your face a condescending smirk following.

"Little slut," he growled and then the hand around your neck traveled down to the hem of your dress pulling it up so the cold air brushed over your thighs.

"No. No, no, please. Stop it please you can have whatever you want but please don't."

Geta tilted his head and applied more force with his hand, holding your wrists in place as you relentlessly squirmed in his grip.

"You don't even know what I'm gonna do, sweetheart. A little patience please."

You opened your mouth to scream for help but at first no sound came out and as if Geta saw what you were about to do he placed a hand on your mouth muffling any noise escaping your lips as a precaution.

Now it was officially over, you thought tears spilling from the corner of your eyes as you put everything in your fighting, all the fear and anger, the panic and sole frustration about the fact that you had ended up in this place but no matter how hard you tried, no matter how aggressively you bit his hand resting on top of your mouth, nothing changed. He was like a possessed animal claiming his prey and it seemed as though nothing would prevent him from doing what he had in mind.

He had pushed up the fabric your upper thighs exposed to him while his knee parted your legs so he could settle in between them.

'Acacius, Acacius, Acacius,' was the mantra in your mind and you squeezed at the fact that he wasn't here pulling this man off you and holding you until you would stop crying. A part of you was so incredibly mad at him although you knew that he obviously wasn't to blame.

Geta now nestled at his pants and opened them while your throat tightened making it impossible to breathe. And then you felt his hand on your center.

~~~~~~~~~~

Acacius turned to his other side groaning lowly. When his hands searchingly wandered to your side and he found that you weren't in bed he opened his right eye.

Usually this wasn't a rare event as you were a night owl that oftentimes spent your time in the gardens when you couldn't sleep and yet Acacius sat up in the bed. He didn't know why but suddenly he was wide awake, his mind clear and on alert and his body urging him to move.

Perhaps it was the cool air in the room that made him crave to feel your warmth next to him or he simply wanted to make sure that you were fine but Acacius decided to search for you.

He climbed off the bed and put on his robes and then left the room somehow hoping that he would immediately run into you but the corridor was empty and quiet and so your husband chose the gardens to search next as there was a high chance you were just taking a stroll. Mayhaps the two of you could enjoy the night together once he had found you noting that it was indeed beautiful tonight.

Acacius walked his footsteps echoing against the high ceiling and then the cold air hit him like an icy wind giving him chills and a shiver ran through his body. He just hoped that you wouldn't get sick being here outside for so long and he accelerated his steps wanting to find you as quickly as possible to perhaps give you his cloak and warm you up.

But as he passed the various patches and trees he suddenly heard a noise from far away. A whimpering or… a cry?

He narrowed his eyes feeling his heartbeat prominently everywhere in his body and rushed to the source of the sound the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

At first he saw a pile of fabric on the ground, but in a matter of milliseconds his brain comprehended, his heart skipped a beat, his breath went uneven and shaky and his mind clouded with panic. He acted quickly grabbing the shoulder of the man on top of you, tearing him off you and pushing him down to the ground as far away from you as possible.

Acacius' face was drawn with concern immediately kneeling down next to your trembling body your hair being everywhere which was why he couldn't see your face. But he heard you crying and whimpering his own eyes tearing up at the horrible scene before him and then he reached down to run his thumb over your cheeks.

"It's me. Acacius. It's alright, y/n, I got you. It's gonna be alright, you're safe."

He examined your face searching for any external damage but when he heard Geta move behind him he unwillingly let go of you turning around to grip the emperor's collar and pulling him up so his face was inches away from his.

"You fucking bastard," Acacius spitted his face twisted in anger. "If you or your brother ever attempt to touch her again or even just look at her I will kill you. I will kill you with my own hands if I have to. The only thing that is holding me back from strangling you right now is the fact that it will take too long to get rid of your fucking body."

He could see a flickering in Geta's eyes; almost a sign of fright and Acacius couldn't help himself and hit him with his fist letting go off him in the same moment so the man fell to the ground again. Blind with rage he kicked him twice in his stomach before clenching his fists flaring his nostrils at the sound of Geta's moaning.

"Go now. If you're still here the next time I'll turn around I'm gonna kill you. That is a fucking promise."

He turned his gaze away and actually heard the sound of soles dragging across the stoney floor exhaling loudly as he looked at you again.

Acacius dropped to his knees taking your face into his big hands and gently lifted your head so it wasn't lying on the hard ground. Now it was time to take care of you and try everything to help you deal with this traumatic experience.

"Y/n. It's okay, I'm here. It's me, Acacius… You're safe now, I promise," he whispered his voice thin but determined.

You didn't reply the sobs and whines being the only sound that left your mouth but your eyes were slightly opened so Acacius hoped that you were perhaps at least able to perceive his presence. He trailed your cheekbones but then decided that it would be best to get you inside, the coldness still attacking him like sharp stitches against his skin and so he put one arm under your knees and one around your shoulders and lifted you up in the air.

You reacted to it with a gasp but your hands instantly clung to his shirt in a help-seeking manner. Acacius kept his eyes on you despite having difficulties at making out the way in the dark, a deep crease between his eyebrows and his jaw clenched. He carried you back into the house, up the stairs and then into the room all while listening to your painful cries with a big hole in his heart.

Once there he carefully laid you down on the bed his skin prickling with cold sweat at the way your dress was ripped at the hem and sat down next to you taking your hands to squeeze and hold them as long as need be.

"A-Acacius?" your thin finally cut through the air and your husband was so relieved that he had to swallow a few tears.

"Yes. It's just me, everything is going to be fine. Take a deep breath, darling, it's okay now."

"Acacius," you repeated fresh tears straining your face but overall he understood it as progress and nodded.

"Yes. I'm right here. And I'm not going to leave."

The next minutes he spent drawing patterns with his thumb over the back of your hands while you bawled your eyes out, your body shaking and your hands holding on to him so tightly that he soon felt his hands turning numb. At some point, neither of you could tell how late it had gotten, you chewed on your bottom lip pressing his hands to your chest and gave him the most heartbreaking eyes while clearing your throat.

"I-I… What… Acacius, please," you whined shifting in the bed so he quickly cupped your face making you look at him.

"Are you in pain, my love? Has he hurt you?"

You closed your eyes the touch of his warm familiar hand sending a wave of comfort through your body.

"I-I don't think s-so," you stuttered your voice still gripped by sheer terror.

"I'm so glad, darling," he whispered wiping away some of the tears soaking your face. "You're safe in here, I promise. Do you need anything? Water, food, whatever it is, I'll bring it to you."

You shook your head holding on to him like your life depended on it. "No. Stay here, please."

Acacius tightened his grip on your cheek while squeezing your hand his words sweet and soft whispers that embraced you in a warm hug.

"I'm not going to leave. I'll stay here forever if that's what you want. I give you my word."

Your eyes fluttered seemingly satisfied with the content of his words because you allowed yourself to let your body relax a little.

"You want to sleep, little one?" he asked leaning over you to kiss your hair.

"Yes," you swallowed your pupils still dilated and each of your little twitches and fearful glances to your left and right crushed his soul, progressively ripping out his heart.

"Alright. You want me to sit here? Or lay next to you?"

Your glossy eyes wettened at his words a hand coming up to weakly pull at the sleeve of his cloak and then your trembling lips parted to breathe your next words. "Next to me."

Acacius was quick to comply nodding at you and then lying down on his side of the bed his eyes on you at all times as though someone would harm you if he looked away for a brief moment. You instantly moved towards him rolling yourself in a ball and your husband understood the gesture correctly opening his arms so you could snuggle against his upper body and feel protected and safe in the embrace.

After a while he could feel his neck getting wet so he moved one hand to the back of your head soothingly cradling and caressing you while his other was wrapped around your lower back.

"My precious girl," Acacius cooed you, feeling wide awake with the focus on calming and caring for you while you slowly drifted off to sleep.

He held you, fingers lightly grazing over your back and head just to ensure that you knew that he was right there next to you sheltering you from everyone and everything that wished to harm you. He didn't allow himself to fall asleep just yet wanting to be certain that you wouldn't be alone with your awake mind but much later when he heard your steady breathing and felt how you had loosened up in his arms Acacius finally closed his eyes as well entering a dreamless world.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning Acacius woke up from stinging intense light that fell through the windows brightening up the room charmingly.

It was so beautiful that for a second he forgot about the events last night and watched the clear blue sky outside before everything came back to him and he turned to your sleeping figure who was still close to him but now gripped the bedsheets instead of his shirt.

Acacius watched you looking all peaceful and comfortable and prayed that you would be granted some more time resting like this carefully moving a strand of hair out of your face. He didn't doze off again wanting to be there for you when you woke up and so he spent the minutes looking at you and the window in turns until you eventually lifted your eyelids glancing at him and your surroundings and for a moment you seemed confused.

Your swollen eyes came to a stop on his face and then you pulled up the blanket to your chin as if to hide behind it. Acacius gave you a tender smile doing his best to environ you with as much love and safety as he possibly could radiate.

"Good morning, love," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"I think I'm fine," you replied biting down on your bottom lip turning your gaze away from him instead eyeing the bedsheets as if there was something to see there.

Acacius cleared his throat not feeling sure about his next words but he nevertheless expressed them in hopes that you would appreciate it in some way.

"Do you want to talk about what happened? If not that's fine as well. I just want you to know that I'll listen."

Fresh tears instantly welled in your eyes and at first Acacius believed that he had made a mistake bringing it up too early but it was as though something was dropping off you. A weight or a heavy load you were getting rid off.

"I don't know," you breathed knuckles turning white by the amount of force you held on to the blanket with.

"He… I don't know, he came out of nowhere. And I w-wanted to leave but I-I didn't know how."

Acacius' lips were tightly pressed together as he pulled you closer to him so gently that it almost felt like it was the wind blowing you towards him and it stood in great contrast to his tensed up face.

"He tried to kiss me a-and I pushed him away b-but he didn't stop and then I was on the g-ground and he-he…" Your voice broke a quiet cry leaving your mouth. His hand almost automatically came to your shoulder and you gratefully grabbed it your hand wrapping around his thumb.

"He didn't do anything before you came. Not really, I mean. He… He didn't rape me."

Acacius muscled tensed closing his eyes so he would hide his anger instead of upsetting you further by how mad he was growing. He intended to be gentle with you, comfort you just the way you needed it and deal with his hate towards Geta another time. This was about you and he most certainly wouldn't draw the attention to him.

Acacius reached to the small of your back and then carefully pulled you towards him so he could embrace you in a hug just to feel you. Feel your pulse, the very sign that at least physically you were alive and well.

"I'm so sorry, my love. I'm so sorry you had to go through this and I want you to know that whatever it is you need right now, I will give it to you."

You sniffed twice your nose nestled against his chest seeking comfort in the way he shielded your body from your surroundings.

"I don't know…," you mumbled quietly. "I just need you."

Acacius felt his eyes getting wet at your soft voice smiling tenderly when he felt you pushing yourself against his strong body.

"And I'm here. I'm right here, sweetling and I won't leave," his soothing voice cradled you like a sweet song which made you close your eyes feeling safe for the first time since the events in the gardens.

When he heard you cry again Acacius tightened his protective grip although you sounded a little different now. They were quiet and soft sobs, helpless and longing sounds that fit the way you buried your hands in his flesh of his arms and shoulders. You were holding on to him for dear life showing him how much you needed him close to you and Acacius wanted nothing more than to act according to your desires.

"That's right…," he hummed. "Let it all out, my precious girl. I'm right here…"

It was almost noon when your cries had faded away and when you raised your head from his chest your big eyes looked clearer and more awake than before. You even managed to give him a careful smile and then sat up straight in the bed.

"I'm very hungry," you said Acacius following your movement sitting next to you and tenderly stroking your arms.

"Then let's eat, darling. I'll get the servants."

The both of you simultaneously climbed off the bed but before Acacius approached the door he stopped letting his gaze linger upon your face again another question on his mind.

"I need to know if you're hurt, love."

Your eyes were big as you looked at him but then lowered your view to your hands that were folded in your lap.

"My hip hurts a little," you murmured. "I fell down on my side. And my neck."

Your hand came up to soothe the red marks where Geta had squeezed your throat and then felt courageous enough to meet your husband's gaze.

"But it's fine. Nothing that will not heal."

Acacius took a step towards you holding your face in his huge hands his jaw tightened. From the outside he looked hard and cold but inside a storm was roaring. He felt the urge to hit something or better someone, get rid of all the anger and tension controlling his thoughts while holding and cuddling you until all of your pain would be transferred to him and he could be the one enduring it. How he wished it was possible…

You were his girl, his precious sweet girl that only deserved love and warmth and was way too pure for this cruel world. And now you had been harmed and Acacius craved to beat up the person that had made the smile on your lips vanish. Not that anyone deserved to go through what you had just been through but you were meant to be worshipped, that much he knew.

"I love you," he whispered so close to crying but he couldn't.

He couldn't do that to you right now because he had to be strong now, for your sake. Acacius knew you so well and if he was to let his emotions take over and show himself vulernable to you you might feel unsettled or scared never having him seen that way before. So instead he swallowed kissing your forehead and welcoming your hands trailing up his wrists.

"I love you too," you whispered.

The day went on without any special events. Acacius of course noticed that you were flinchy and more quiet than usual and tried his best to balance distracting you whilst giving you the opportunity to let out whatever you wanted to express. Therefore he spoke to you about unimportant matters that wouldn't upset or scare you all while paying close attention to you and your needs.

Time passed and with great relief Acacius observed clear progress in your behaviour sensing how your old-self returned over the next few days. There were moments when you twitched at a sudden movement and you couldn't stand the darkness let alone going to the gardens at night even with Acacius by your side but over all you seemed to get better and so he felt optimistic.

And yet he didn't initiate any sexual contact with you although he craved to feel you all the time. Before the assault Acacius and you hadn't been able to keep your hands off each other spending most of the nights as well as the lazy mornings making love and being intimate with each other so it was no wonder he missed tasting you or feeling you around him. But of course he was well-aware that it might not be what you desired at the moment and so he didn't bring up the topic once instead focusing on giving you space while offering you physical closeness whenever you craved it.

And you surely did, being even more eager to snuggle up to his chest and entangling your hands at any chance. Sometimes it became hard for your husband to keep straight thoughts especially when you pressed yourself so close to his center but he always remembered the circumstances and what you had gone through gritting his teeth and managing to keep his hands off you.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was a couple of days later when Acacius left your home for a few days to participate in a battle around 20 miles away from Rome and although you had a sour feeling in your stomach already knowing that you would miss him terribly you kissed him goodbye and trailed your hand up his cheek.

"I love you. And I will miss you."

"I love you too and so will I. But I will think about you all the time."

He kissed your hands before giving you a serious look. "My sister will visit you tomorrow and look after you. She said she can also stay the night if need be. And I talked to Julia and she said that she's available too the next few days. You can send a message to her any time, alright?"

You smirked but nodded. "Thank you. I'm looking forwards to seeing your sister again. But you know that I'll be fine, Acacius. I promise you. I'm good."

"I know you are. But I want someone around you in case you are not at any point. And I also want you to be safe."

Your cheeks dimpled your fingers tracing his neck and jaw before drawing him into a deep kiss that was meant to show him how much you appreciated what he was doing for you.

"I will be. And I already can't wait for you to come back," you hummed against his mouth, which caught your words for no one but Acacius to hear.

"I love you, darling." Then he took a step back kissing your hands his eyes glistening with a certain longing that tightened your throat.

"My lady."

You inhaled heavily trying to loosen up your chest and then gave him one last smile. "I'll see you soon."

~~~~~~~~~~

There was no part of you that ever doubted his capabilities or skills in the coming days. Acacius was one of the fiercest and most experienced generals of your time and you whole-heartedly believed that he would come back safely and barely wounded from the fighting.

It was more the fact that you simply missed him. You always did when he was gone longer than a day and although you were grateful for his sister's visit that turned your attention elsewhere for a couple of hours you often had problems falling asleep staring ahead of you in the dark your gaze falling upon the empty space next to you.

These were the moments when you wondered if Acacius might be thinking about you as well right now and when you squeezed your eyes imagining his face in front of you, you believed that he might.

You had spent your whole life, these 23 years without being dependant on anyone outside your family. So you knew what it was like to love or to long for someone especially considering that you had just lost your father a couple of months ago but Acacius was something different.

You were scared suddenly. Scared to give away all your love, your heart and soul with the fear of losing him and strangely, you had never felt that way about someone in your family. Perhaps because right now you were choosing to do so. You were choosing to open up to this man offering him everything that you had, falling head first for him and trusting on this delicate and yet intense bond the two of you had grown.

You had chosen to give away your heart because you had started to trust him and it had felt right and the time that you had spent as his wife had been incredibly beautiful so far but right now you were experiencing the consequences.

Missing him while he was gone. Feeling like your heart was being ripped out when you woke up alone in the morning. And although the logical side of you tried to deny it, fearing that something might happen to him during one of the battles.

It was torture and yet you would never trade the life you had with him right now with the life you had lived before marrying him. He was worth it, of course he was. He was the love of your life and as much as it had hurt you to see him leave it also had made you aware of how precious your bond was.

And you managed to go on. The days sometimes passed slowly but you found distractions in reading or inviting your friends to your house and then finally after 7 days of being separated from your beloved husband, he returned.

It was a warm day but not too hot for your liking. You wore a light gown that you had specifically picked out because you knew how much Acacius liked the light pink color on you and wore your best perfume.

The whole morning you were more than jittery, relentlessly walking up and down, the wide grin not vanishing from your face for a moment. You almost felt a little ridiculous because there were women waiting for their husbands over the course of several years and you were behaving like this after a week of separation but in the end you didn't care and you cared even less when Acacius finally walked through the gate his hair messy, small cuts visible on his arms and face but his eyes soft and his lips formed into a relieved smile.

It only intensed when your eyes lit up, a joyful squeal leaving your mouth and you jumped in Acacius' arms. A quiet chuckle went through his body as he held you effortlessly lifting you in the air and twirling you around a few times.

"My sweet girl," he laughed deeply inhaling the familiar scent of your hair his eyes closed in delight.

"I missed you so much," you whispered tonelessly hands buried in his dark locks your legs firmly wrapped around his hips to gesture him that you weren't ready to be lowered to the ground just yet. And Acacius wasn't either holding you so tightly that it almost cut off your air supply but it was exactly what you craved.

"I missed you too. I thought about you all the time, darling, gods…"

His hand laid flat on the small of your back while the other was buried in your neck tracing your skin through the veil of hair. When he put you back on your feet your knees felt wobbly and you gladly took his arm that guided you back into the house.

Once inside Acacius sank down on a chair exhaling deeply as he leaned back but didn't let go of your hand.

"How have you been while I was away?" he asked gently pulling you towards him so you stood right in front of him.

"It was fine. I read a lot and… I had a lovely time with your dear sister. I missed you though. I'm so glad you're back, Acacius."

"And I'm glad to be back. You didn't worry about me though, did you? You know I will always come back to you, right?"

You nodded reaching for his messy locks that stood in all directions twisting a strand around your finger.

"Of course. But you're getting old," you then whispered with flashing eyes mischievously grinning from one ear to the other which Acacius reacted to with a tilt of his head.

"Oh do I now? What are you doing with an old man like me then?"

He placed his hands on your hips while parting his legs so you could stand between them while you cradled his head the palms of your hands brushing over the spiky hairs of his beard which gave you tingles.

"Mhmm," you made pretending to think as if you didn't have the answer on the top of your lips. "That's a very good question actually."

Acacius curled the corner of his mouth into a amused smile closing his eyes in relish as he leaned into your touch.

"Do you want me to answer it?" he asked quietly.

"No need to," was what you replied or better whispered as you lowered your face to him kissing his lips gently and then proceeding with his nose, his chin and both his cheeks.

"Well, perhaps I have a special fondness for men who know what they are doing. Because you definitely do."

He chuckled lowly which you sensed in the way his body vibrated and brought a hand up to the back of your head.

"I should hope so."

When you pulled back from him straightening up you could swear you saw a disappointed flickering in his brown eyes but you had a plan in mind sitting down on his lap the wrong way around so your knees rested right next to his hips. Your husband let out an approving hum encouraging you in your attempt and shoved you closer to his body by firmly holding on to your waist.

"I want to feed you," you said raising your chin in your most confident way even when Acacius raised his eyebrows.

"Feed me?"

You reached behind you and grabbed a bowl filled with all sorts of delicious and exotic fruits, made your choice and then dangled a strawberry in front of his face.

"Open your mouth," you demanded your eyes determindely glistening and who was Acacius to refuse you?

He parted his lips closing his eyes while you carefully brought the strawberry to his mouth pushing the fruit past his lips and smiled when he sank his teeth into it. He moaned in relish tasting the sweetness spreading in his mouth and began chewing on the strawberry while you placed the leafy whorl back on the table.

Then you brought your thumb to his glistening lips carefully wiping the juice and leaned into another kiss tasting the familiar flavour once you explored his mouth with your tongue. The both of you were breathless when you pulled back and your husband instantly cupped your face trailing his finger over the softness of your flushed skin.

"You want another one?" you giggled already reaching behind you Acacius biting his lips at the adorable sight of you.

"Yes please. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment but I'm not going to complain."

You tilted your head pursing your lips in a playful pout while feeding him another strawberry.

"Let me think… You fought in a battle, defended your country, and you're the best husband I could possibly imagine."

You had whispered your last words almost feeling shy about expressing your love for him like that but obviously you had no reason to be.

Acacius swallowed the strawberry and this time it was him who pulled you in for another kiss his lips gently sucking at your bottom lip. He devoured your mouth in the most gentle and delicate way carefully nibbling at your lip and this time it took the two of you longer until you could break away from the kiss.

"The sweetest," Acacius mumbled and although you couldn't figure out whether he was talking about the fruit or your lips you could only agree.

That night you fell asleep lying on top of Acacius' broad body and despite feeling that this was an uncomfortable position for your husband you relaxed after he had assured you a hundred times that he was fine and didn't want you to climb off him.

It was a quiet and peaceful moment; one of those that you wished you could carve in your brain and revisit whenever you had the desire to. It was just the two of you; you forgot about everything and everyone else in the world your mind turning into a mush when all you sensed was him.

Your nose smelled his neck the familiar scent of cotton and sandalwood, your hands clinging to his muscular shoulders and your back that Acacius was running his hands over loosening up against his warm touch.

All the while Acacius was whispering sweet nothings in your ear and you were almost certain that he wasn't even sure whether you were still awake but nevertheless he continued to do so until you actually were sound asleep.

Only then did he stop talking, inhaling deeply while smiling into the dark his thoughts drifting to a place just as peaceful and beautiful as this one.