#i swear it helps my active recall

[taitavva]

if i draw during lecture does that make me a bad student ????? .... no (<- lying)

[jeoncopi]

[2] EAGER DAYS | JJK

are you ready to witness what's like to have a very yearning, domestically soft, vulnerable, silly yet playful and hot military boyfriend?

welcome to military jungkook's episodes!

—this entire series are based during jungkook's current state. as I'll be writing with each irl update. so this series might last until jungkook's finally free (Imao).

IMPORTANT: each episode won't be necessarily correlated to one another but some episodes could have light references to previous actions, feelings or situations.

BE AWARE OF: 18+ CONTENT.

pair: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.1k

what's in here?: a little bit of inside of their relationship, memories and flashbacks (jungkook’s pov). cute and a little bit of tension if you really squint lol.

[more episodes]

EPISODE 2. “short hair..”

freshly cut.

trimming his hair little by little has been jungkook’s plan for a while now. something about not wanting to get shocked or insecure if he ever looked bad being bald. ‘it’s best to get used to it like this, right?’ checking himself out at the salon, ‘I don’t look too bad.’ he mutters to himself.

‘I wonder what does y/n think..’ crosses his mind next.

—.•*•.—

“ta-da~”

boy-ish smile. you’re met with a brand new jungkook as soon as you open the door. a soft gasp escapes your lips when you scan his new haircut and you can’t help but drag his body inside your apartment just to glance at him in better lightning.

“oh my god.”

jungkook’s tone is playful when he chuckles and playfully asks with a semi smirk on his lips. “what? what?” walking you backwards as both of his hands are placed on your shoulders.

your hands gently resting on his firm chest. “why do you look so good?”

jungkook’s eyes already glistening with your answer. ‘that’s a relief’.

“so you like it?” he genuinely asks.

“are you serious?” you answer in complete bewilderment.

jungkook immediately nods his head many times. very cutely. “yes.” and so serious.

“I ffucking love it.” you emphasize the F which makes jungkook laugh very softly.

feeling extremely relaxed now knowing that his girl is totally into him all over again. — not that you weren’t before, but he just enjoys showing you new sides of him since for jungkook, to be able to maintain such a good and healthy relationship is to be able to keep things alive by doing new, different things.

you see, jungkook is a super active boyfriend. yeah, he does get tremendously lazy, because he is. and sometimes is very hard for him to even start something, but he also pushes himself and tries his best in moving around..

once he finds things that he likes, he just want to share it all with you and it’s been like that since the first day he met you. up to when you two became friends at eunwoo’s house, then the moment he acknowledged his feelings for you.. down to when he couldn’t resist it anymore, admitting to himself how badly he really wanted you.

for his good luck, you were also having quite a hurricane of unanswered questions and feelings on your mind around that time..

each time he thinks about it he can’t help but internally smile, if not physically.

— memory —

it had already passed two years since you two met and there you were, standing there with a cup of glass on your hands.. looking all pretty talking with a group of friends.

when jungkook really thinks about it, it all seems to always happen at his best friend’s events..

he’s walking towards you, making his mind to excuse you from them. you softly placed your empty cup at the side near to where you were standing.

“yes?” walking towards him.

jungkook swears he can feel everyone’s eyes on you both. but as always, all of it didn’t mattered as soon as his eyes met yours.

you were so pretty that night. wearing one of his favorite things ever..

a mini skirt.

he liked to imagine it was because of him each time you wore that.. and it’s all because of a past conversation you all were having between friends one day.

he even recalls the topic so well.

‘what’s an item someone can wear that you’ll say is definitely hot?’

— flashback —

jaeun asked, and it was already jungkook’s time to answer.

“yeah, I like when girls wear mini skirts. that definitely will do it for me.” he chuckles when everyone laughs and some others agree with him.

“oh.. so that’s something that turns you on?“ y/n sort of teases him. a cheeky smirk to her lips.

jungkook tries to humorously not roll his eyes. “eung.” answering with a nod towards you. “but not just with anybody though..” manspreading back into his seat. “..if they want to turn me on, I really do have to like them first.” and his gaze is so intense towards you.

hopefully nobody notices in the room.

eunwoo is the first to respond, “ahh, I get what you mean.”

“me too. actually,”

jungkook can sense some sort of intensity back on your gaze towards him when you respond,

“I’m the complete same. I can’t get turned on with a total stranger, you know?” with a smile on her face, also chuckling about it. “but now, if there’s someone I already know and I’m actually into them.. then that’s a whole different story.”

and there’s something about the way you act that it’s quite intriguing to jungkook. making him wanting to know if what you said was lowkey directed to him..

— end flashback —

..so it isn’t that wrong for him to think about it that way, right?

ever since that day.. he swears you started using more mini skirts from time to time.

or was it that it’s always whenever there’s a meeting with him?

just like a little pattern, he can be one hundred percent sure that you just knew where and when you needed to wear one at the right time and places.

as if you knew whenever he could attend an event or not, how come each time he saw you in pictures of dates he couldn’t make it, at all times, you were just as pretty but using those nice jeans or loose clothes he also loved so much.

never a mini skirt.

he can even picture the first time he saw you wearing one so perfectly. like a brand new painting being freshly made before his eyes,

he specifically remembers you going down the stairs, slowly but surely, still haven’t finished getting ready with the way you were fixing your earrings but he swears he has never seen someone to be so effortlessly stunning before.

his heart almost dropping, pushing and breaking out of his chest.. he didn’t even noticed how he wasn’t even breathing. holding his breath the entire time with that little sequence.

it’s not so much different from how you were feeling now, standing in front of her. “can you come upstairs with me for a sec?” he wished to not sound too creepy.

“um, sure.” even when he can tell you’re a bit confused, you still give him a comfort smile. you know she trusted you and you’re very glad that she does, because you definitely wouldn’t want her to do things she won’t like or even feel uncomfortable with.

—.•*•.—

“there’s something going on?” y/n asked when I slowly guided her to the currently empty, second living room.

“no—yes, actually.” I correct myself as nervous as I try not sound and my fingers slowly fidget with each other.

your face is rather more of concern when you notices my strange behavior. “..what’s wrong?”

but I chuckle a little when I glance at your reaction. “it’s nothing bad or sad, I promise. you can chill a little.”

making you chuckle back, “oh, was my face looking too worried?” cupping your own face as you speak. and I thought that was so cute.

I try to hide my face as I feel my cheeks burn in red, sort of looking down at the floor. engaging to the thought that I was lucky enough that you actually could not see it given to the poor lightning.

“mm just a little.” I paused. “actually? yes.” my tone still shy as I joke around and you laugh about it. but then I start rubbing one hand through the back of my neck when silence arrives and you start to speak,

“so..” taking one step near me. “um,” you stop. “I can’t see you very well from here.. do you mind if I get closer to you?”

and my heart jumped. “mm-yeah.. I mean, yeah. it’s fine.” trying to act cool, I only lean back on what it seems to be like a marbled table.

you chuckle when you get comfortable beside me.

“you’re very cute sometimes,” y/n mutters with a smile in between her teeth, almost as if you were admitting that more to yourself than me.

and you playfully push my shoulder with your upper body when you ask, “so, why are we here?”

with a smile too, I feel my heart beating hard when my face that it’s now facing yours, is very heed of how close you are.

“I.. I wanted to make you a question..”

“sure, what is it?” your eyes so attentive.

I gain courage to stand in front of you. sighing to myself when both of my hands are at each side of your body resting at the table instead of actually touching you. but you’re oh, so close that it’s almost as If I was trapping you against me.

still.. as careful as I am, you don’t show any sign of discomfort more than just give him glistening eyes that seem to be full of curiosity.

must be a great sign, right?

“I want to know..” I paused. “what do you think about me?”

and there’s a couple seconds of silence.

“..a-about you?” your voice rather feathery.

“romantic wise.” and I don’t even think of playing. it was now or never.

“romanticall-“

“yes, y/n.” interrupting her softly, “I want to know what’d you think of me.” I’m determined.

“why?” you genuinely ask.

“isn’t it obvious why i’m asking?”

you softly nod your head to the sides and I can’t help but tsk as I lower my head with a grin before directly pierce my eyes into yours.

“I think it’s very much clear that i’m interested, y/n. I’m interested in you.” I confess. pausing with a soft and shy smile. “I like you and I think I’ve been doing it for quite some time now.”

your expression, rather surprised. “s-since.. when?”

“I think it’s been over two years now.”

you slightly rise your eyebrows, shocked. “that’s literally the time we’ve been knowing each other-“

“exactly.” and my lips are slightly pouting when I answer.

you don’t say nothing else other than just stare at him with a shocked expression.

given to your silence, all I can think about is how this is such a bad sign. so I take a step back or at least try, since you grabbed my right arm when you say,

“wait.”

so I stand there, only staring at you.

“I’ve been hiding my feelings towards you for way too long.”

I blink several times, feeling my heart rise up all over again.

maybe there might be hope.

“aren’t you saying this to make me feel good?” I really wanted you to be more direct.

“do I seem like someone who’ll play with your feelings, jungkook?” and you sort of tease me, but I don’t mind.

“not really.. but again, you’ll never know.” joking back at you when you punch my shoulder. “ouch!”

“I do like you.” you pause. “a lot, actually.” playing with my fingers when you give me a shy smile. “maybe no longer than you but..” sigh. “it’s been a while.”

…that night, despite you two being incredibly happy of mutually liking each other, you really didn’t kiss or did anything else rather than still being friends during a few days.

reason why?

simply because we wanted to make things right. I wanted to ask her out properly, have a few official dates here and there and then.. get to it. didn’t lasted too long when I was already asking her to be mine though. being too way into her.. it was pretty clear I wasn’t gonna keep counting down days after all this years.

— end memory —

“I’m glad you like it, baby.” jungkook smiles, embracing your body into a hug. “I was so nervous you’ll tease me about it..”

“hey!” you softly punch his shoulders. “why would I do that?” cupping his cheeks. yes, it was your favorite thing to do. “I know how you feel about it babe, I could never.” kissing his pouty lips.

“but if l didn’t feel this way, would you think about it?” he raises an eyebrow.

it makes you laugh. “no, silly.”

“why?”

“because you’ll look handsome anyways.”

but then jungkook furrowed his eyebrows into a fake angry face. “just handsome?”

making you roll your eyes as you laugh. “and sexy..” leaving a kiss on his lips with each word.

“and pretty..”

kiss,

“and cute..”

kiss,

“and hot..”

kiss,

and all jungkook does is smile and blush as you do so.

“that’s what I wanted to hear..”

a/n: hope you liked this one! just wanted to add a little bit more to how their relationship was born ^^. to give you a hint of how things will go.. episode 3, it’s fun to read imo, ep. 4 is when the real thing really starts ;)

as always, let me know what you think about these series so far !! I love talking to you and reading your thoughts 🫶🏼.

— TAGLIST: @purplebtsmagic @looneybleus @eyesforjungkook @leah-rose03 @jungkooks21 @kookiescutie

[anadiasmount]

night in - jb blurb.

warm bubble feeling burns your chest as you feel jude place a kiss on your temple, sitting right next to you on the floor, placing your hot drink next to his. “you’re having way to much fun on this,” he teased, resting his chin on your shoulder, while looking at you intently as you finished the second bag of the moana’s flowerpot legos.

“i fear i’m having way too much fun,” you joke back, clicking and connecting the small lego. “you realize these are made for nine year olds right?” he pushed further, helping you separate the legos in piles so you could find the legos easier. “so? i don’t complain when you play fifa at your grown age? screaming like a little girl when you unpack a player?” you defend watching jude open his mouth in shock, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

“i’m glad we stayed in. i haven’t seen you much lately and i didn’t want to have just dinner and the call if a night. i love these little moments with you, d’you know? our playlist playing in the back, some baking, maybe cooking? but definitely how i have you all to myself…” jude says, his hand running up and down your spine, making you spin and face him directly where you brush a tamed curl back to already done hair.

“sounds like you just want to keep me for yourself?” you say watching how jude is ready to explain and yap but you cut him off quickly. “i’m kidding. i love staying in dates. especially around this time of your when your season is beginning to get hectic. believe it or not these dates have so much more meanings to when we’re out. i get to see a side of you only i can experience and see, and im so incredibly grateful for that. for you,” you smile leaning into his side where jude shyly looks down.

“don’t get shy with me mister.”

“oh like how you get shy after we-”

“okay so that’s like completely different?” you laugh dismissing the idea that was brewing in his head. “also i get to play house when i’m here. look at this place! the kitchen? the pool? the garden? the garden is my favorite we’ve grown so much in just under a year!” you say excitedly, giving up on the lego set, as now all you wanted was to be next with jude. to feel his safe embrace, his scent, to feel the comfort only he can give.

“those damn bunnies ruined it at first, i swear i was going to insane. i just know they were doing it on purpose after one stared me down as it ate the cherry tomatoes!” jude reclaimed, leaning back against the couch, bringing you to his lap where he traced your bracelet and the tiny tattoo on your thigh. the one of many you had, but this one was jude’s favorite. you didn’t have to tell him, but he could tell it was meant for him.

“to be fair you tormented that poor thing,” you recalled, thinking of the endless possibilities jude did so he could get rid of the bunnies in a happy manner. “it got what it deserved,” jude shrugged, taking a sip of mug, offering one of the infamous pumpkin pilsbury cookies to you.

“what else is on your fall bucket list?”

“we’ve done mostly all besides watching scary movies, visit a pumpkin patch and get a couples costume for trent’s party soon. besides that we’ve knocked everything else out,” you say cheery, the sense of joy never leaving you, knowing you were able to cross off and completely those wishes. “what has been your favorite activity yet?” he asked, tugging on a tiny string from your knitted sweater.

“probably decorating your house for the fall, since it was way to white… that or when we painted the pumpkins with the little kids,” you spoke softy and gently. watching jude’s eyes crinkle from paying attention to remembering the beautiful memory. “i really enjoyed that too, but nothing could beat fright fest,” jude laugh making you shake your head rapidly. t

“jude! i still haven’t forgave you for that! you take us to apparently a theme park and then walking in, there’s horror everywhere. especially those damn clowns…” you say, a tint of nervousness as you spoke out loud. “but i made it up to you,” he pouts, leaning up and pulling your face closer to his. “i won you a plenty stuffed animals and went downstairs for a week to get a glass of water. i was your protector.”

“you always are,” you hug him, your fingers grazing and tracing his ears down to his. “the beard has grown on me. you look very manly,” you say, his hairs tickling your palm. “i was thinking about shaving it soon,” he says, feeling completely relaxed as you touched him. it was that effect you had on him and he loved that so much. no feeling or person could make him feel the way you felt.

“nope. it will take too long for me to get used to,” you deny shaking your head as jude chuckles, grabbing your thighs and placing you on your back, jude not holding back from his physical touch. peppering kisses on your forehead, nose, cheeks, your lips then down to your neck where you had another tattoo. your weak spot. “stop it, i know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to show you my love and affection,” he said sarcastically, playing with the fabric on your chest, as he had layed his head gently on you. “yes but you have two meanings towards that… your mom is also right upstairs…” you whisper the last part, afraid of speaking to loudly. this was her house as much as it was his as well. he sighs, accepting defeat and pulling you closer to him. not before pulling you into a kiss that made you want to say fuck it. that damn kiss that forever leaves you breathless and wanting more.

“we should watch a horror movie,” you try to say between his kiss but jude was to focused on you. how you kissed him. how you tasted. feeling weaker but also stronger than ever. “no,” he stoped, this time flipping you over so you could lay on his chest.

“right i forgot. you’re a scaredy cat when it comes-”

“no i’m not! i just don’t want to bring any bad energy in my house,” he cheesed hardly, looking up knowing you were giving him a “are you serious look”.

“the best i can do is watch the nightmare before christmas. take it or leave it,” he shrugged hearing you laugh. “works for me, i’ll hold you tight so you don’t run off,” you teased, jude gasping. “listen the movie is already creepy as it is… especially that little scientist,” he shuddered.

after cleaning up and putting away any mess and cleaning the dishes, instead of traumatizing your tall boyfriend, you settled with his choice of movie. happy either way since you knew jude loved showing you his collection of favorite old films. another part of his love language towards you. you couldn’t count how many times, not just with movies, but items, people even, that meant so much to him.

“are you sleepy?” you whisper, jude nodding. “i am but i want to stay up because i want to spend all the time i can with you,” he yawned, kissing your head. “i can stay the night if that’s okay with you and your mom,” you suggested knowing jude would be immediately agreeing. “my mom adores you and you know she would rather have you stay than leave so late, especially me,” jude said, his thumb drawing circles on your hip.

“i’ll stay,” you smile, cuddling closer to jude as he looked down and smiled. not holding back from taking a picture and posting it, with an old school r&b song. soft launching you once again to the world. which you didn’t mind. “hey, why aren’t we shark boy and lava girl for trent’s party? or-” jude said abruptly.

“i’m leaving.”

“wait no!”

[chlorinecake]

HURTS, DOESN'T IT? ✦ — 𝐉.𝐒𝐂 👾

▹ PAIRING: Boyfriend Sungchan x F. Reader

▹ SYNOPSIS: While at an arcade party to celebrate Halloween alongside your boyfriend and his friends, one random activity leads to another before you two find yourselves completely wasted and horny as fuck…

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, halloween themes, impact play, spanking kink, face slapping, giggly (but also very emotionally unstable) protected sex, exhibionism (public bathroom), ft. other kpop idols, mentions & consumption of alcohol, jealousy, that's about it

▹ WORD COUNT: 2.7k — DAY 9

T WAS SOMETIME during the second week in October when your boyfriend Sungchan got a text from his old college buddy about wanting to get in touch at some party.

The occasion was a fashionably early Halloween celebration at a local arcade where there’d be tons of food, good conversation, and entertainment.

Needless to say, the location choice was odd at best, but throwing a house party would’ve been much more expensive anyway.

And of course, knowing that the party could be an unfriendly zone for anyone in a relationship, Sungchan decided to take you with him as a date, both to stay out of trouble and because he didn’t want to leave you home alone that night.

“Babe, look at this,” Sungchan offered as you sat on the couch together, scrolling through a few pins from his Halloween costume Pinterest board. “Which one catches your eye?”

“Hmmm, that one,” you chirped with a smile, pointing to the photo that seemed easiest to recreate...

So, Sungchan ended up dressed as a basketball player and you as his cheerleader girlfriend, and everyone at the party absolutely adored your costumes.

It came to a point where you recall somewhere around 8 people asking to take a photo of you two by the time y’all actually got there, but I digress...

Considering this was a grown-ups-only party, there wasn't any candy or tricks involved, but there was a lot of booze and raunchy shenanigans.

Additionally, the arcade was a space strictly for adults, so you didn't have to worry about any little kids wandering the place or making a disturbing fuss, either.

“Ohhh, look what the cat dragged in,” your boyfriend’s clearly drunk friend remarked upon seeing you, who was ironically dressed as a tipsy-looking Jack Sparrow.

“This is my lovely girlfriend, _____.” Sungchan smiled awkwardly now, “____, Seonghwa... It’s time you two finally meet each other.”

“Nice to meet you, Seonghwa,” you offered as confidently as you could, shaking his hand while saying, “Thanks for having me, by the way.”

“Ahh, don’t mention it... You two lovebugs have fun now though,” Seonghwa slurred, all before stumbling away into the distance.

That’s when you felt Sungchan’s hand slip around your waist, pulling you close to him before whispering, “Is it just me, or are we currently too sober to enjoy this party?”

“No, it’s both of us,” you agreed with a painfully honest nod, making your boyfriend chuckle a bit as you both promptly made your way over to the drinks bar.

But since you step foot in the arcade, you feel like there is a second pair of eyes watching you aside from Sungchan’s, and you could bet on your grave that it is the barista running the bar.

“Hey guys! What can I get for the sexy player and his ditsy fangirl today?” She started sarcastically while annoyingly chewing on a wad of gum with her dark red lips, might I add?

“We’re actually a couple,” Sungchan answered before you could even get a word out, and fortunately so because you certainly didn’t have anything good to say to her.

“We’ll take whatever specials you guys are having tonight,” you began to say while glancing at the drink menu, but she had already helped herself to chatting things up with your boyfriend.

Right.

In.

Front of you…

Just from glancing at her name tag, you knew the skank went by “Samantha G” to most people, which only irritated even more once Sungchan nicknamed her “Sam.”

“You have such a bright smile,” she said, reaching a hand out to touch his arm. “God, and you’re strong,” she chuckled slightly before humming as if someone had just stuck a vibrator in her ass.

“Miss G, don’t forget that you’re hired to serve, not to swoon,” an employee from the back called out to her, and it was easy to hold back the laugh in your throat once Sam replied with:

“Oh, give me a break, Eunseok... Besides, with the outfit I’m wearing, I could easily get away with doing both.”

Gag me with a fucking spoon, you thought to yourself, feeling relieved to see Sungchan peeling that vipers grip away from his arm by her wrist.

“Serving and swooning?” Eunseok repeated with a look of cringe on his face, “You must be mistaking this job with Hooters.”

But nonetheless, Samantha lifted her chin proudly, ignoring his words as if her behavior right now was something to be proud of.

Eventually though, Eunseok got started on making your drinks while Samantha pretended to look busy.

Not wanting to cause any further confusion, you simply ignored her frequent glances towards you two, letting Sungchan pay the bill before walking off to enjoy yourselves.

And as the night continued, you and Sungchan helped yourselves to some pizza next, shooting hoops for a few rounds at the basketball game before eventually delighting yourselves to a Pac-Man tournament.

You obviously lost more than half of the rounds y’all played together, but only because you really needed to stop by the bathroom after all those drinks.

Sungchan cut the game off, returning it back to its default home screen before taking your hand and walking you to the ladies bathroom.

“I’ll be out in a bit,” you told him as you lazily kissed the apple of his cheek before waltzing inside, and he rested his back on the outside of the door, planning to wait until you were finished.

Though, you were starting to take a lot longer than promised, causing Sungchan to grow a bit suspicious...

So, being the rule-breaker that he often was whenever he drank too much, he walked inside the women’s bathroom, knocking on the stall door to see if you were okay.

And surprisingly, you weren’t in there throwing up your entire digestive system, so that concluded you fine for the most part...

The only issue was that your pussy wouldn't stop throbbing and leaking arousal all into your underwear, and even after trying to calm yourself down a few times, nothing was working—

“Baby, just let me in before some chick sees me standing here and assumes I’m harassing you,” Sungchan pleaded despite the calmness of his voice, impatient hands finding the pockets on his track pants.

“Fine, but I’m only letting you in if you promise to help me,” you pouted as if he could see you, and he let himself giggle at the whiny tone of your voice right now.

“Help you with what? Wiping yourself?” Sungchan teased, but all of that stopped once you opened the door to pull him inside.

“No, asshole… I seriously need you right now,” you whined again, and he kissed you, cupping your face in one hand and supporting the small of your back with another.

“I only did that to shut you up, by the way,” Sungchan muttered upon breaking from the kiss, turning back to open the door and leave. “Now let’s go back...”

“Channie, please…” You tugged on his arm.

“I’m not staying here in a women’s bathroom stall with you, ____,” he whisper-scolded.

“But I want you to be in here,” you went on, clinging to his arm like a koala in distress...

Sungchan sighed, finally closing the door back so you could stop whining. “Okay, baby, what’s all this really about... hm?”

You stayed quiet, only reaching inside the cup of your bra to pull out a condom packed in shiny blue foil.

“Baby,” Sungchan breathed out with a soft smile, finally realizing the true motive for your sudden change in behavior: “Why’re you letting that barista girl get to you?”

“I dunno, why’re you bringing her up?” You retorted, closing your hand around the condom you held, but Sungchan found your hand anyway, opening it back up and taking the condom himself.

“Because you’re obviously still bothered about how she was acting with me,” he returned, undoing his track pants while keeping eye contact with you, “and that’s okay... Even I get jealous sometimes.”

“I wasn’t jealous of that skank,” you correct him.

“Then what were you, baby?… Tell me…”

“I was... upset,” you admitted through a gulp once he freed his cock from his pants, and he was surprisingly somewhat hard already just from talking to you, “There’s a difference, y’know?”

“Sure... but what upset you?”

“That... that you just let her touch you and... and talk to you as if I wasn’t standing right fucking there,” you said with a frustrated tone, feeling your skin shiver at the sudden sound of him tearing the foil packaging before sliding the rubber over his tip and down his shaft.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way, then." Sungchan apologized, and either being too drunk to notice or even care that he was being sarcastic, you closed the space between you two, looking him straight in the eye with your own lust-filled ones.

And before you knew it, he had your back against the wall, fucking his thickness into your sopping cunt as you clung to his shoulders, eyes shut with overwhelming pleasure.

Given the crammed space in the stall, it wasn't very easy to move around in there, let alone with two fully grown people. Though, at least one benefit was that the arcade restrooms weren’t like the cheesy ones with zero privacy...

The stalls were fully sealed all around, almost like a closet with a toilet in it, and judging from the thick wooden walls, they were pretty soundproof too for the most part.

His hands gripped at your ass as pretty little grunts fell from his lips, and all you could hear in the back of your mind was Samantha’s irritating voice.

“K-kiss me,” you breathed out suddenly, and Sungchan did just that, finding your lips in his own as you kissed him passionately, trembling at the sensation of his hands spreading your cheeks as he held you tighter.

That’s when you took his lower lip between your teeth, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck,” he swore as quietly as he could, and you released his lip, only because you wanted to see the pained look on his face as he kept fucking you.

“Why the hell did you bite me so hard, ____?”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” You returned with a whisper, and he only hung his head, snickering to himself before looking back up to meet your eyes.

“You’re fucking crazy, y’know tha—ahhh...” His voice trailed off, but only because your walls kept clenching around him, your slick coating his entire pelvis now given how wet you were... though, your physical arousal didn't match your visible pleasure...

“Why're you holding your sounds in, huh?” Your boyfriend huffed, only to chuckle slightly at the docile look of sexual desperation overtaking your face now, “still trying to stay mad at me for no reason?”

“Even if I was, you're literally laughing at everything right now, so it'd be pointless,” you said with a surprisingly stable voice, only to tighten your jaw at how slow he was dragging his cock against your walls now, making you focus on every last inch of his length as he slid in and out of you, slow and steady...

“Stop that,” your voice came out strained, and you turned your face from him to hide how effected you truly were, but when his hands fiercely gripped at the sensitive flesh of your hips, you couldn't stop yourself from wincing.

“So bossy today,” he replied with a smirk, biting his own lip at the sight of your tough girl act crumbling before him.

“Go faster already, Sungchan,” you sighed with desperation, hating how he was delaying your release by going so slowly

“I'm sure Samantha wouldn't mind me fucking her at this speed,” he snickered, ghosting his hot breath right below your ear.

“The closest that bitch is ever getting to you again is in... in a dream,” you stammered out incoherently, but only because he was sucking on your neck now, surely leaving a mark as his hips finally picked up the pace.

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” Sungchan mumbles through grunts in between kissing your flesh, making your eyes go in and out of focus the faster he pistoled his cock into you. “She’s probably waiting for me in the stall beside us... touching herself while she listens to us fuck... wishing it was her—”

Smack!

You slapped him clean across the face, cutting off his words with your bitter force, and you’re not sure if that’s what makes his eyes appear watery at first...

Though, maybe, it was the feeling of your snug walls sucking him back in that made him tear up a bit, and it didn’t help how you subconsciously rolled your hips against his, desperate for more friction.

“Feel better after doing that, angel?” Sungchan asked in a wobbly voice now, and you could tell he was getting close just from how pronounced his veins looked now, coupled with the additional saliva pooling in his mouth.

Before you could even answer, he was back to kissing you, and his skilled tongue, despite all the drama it had caused thus far, was making you feel so good right now...

The contact was so sloppy, and primal even, with his powerful hips pushing through their own stuttering as he chased his high, spanking the swell of your ass to get your attention.

“I asked you a question, didn’t I, baby?” He offered through his adorably labored breaths, still trying to get that reply out of you before y’all left the stall.

Smack.

His large hand hit your ass again, making you jump against the wall as the painful sting traveled throughout your entire body, part of it turning you on somewhat.

“Sungchan,” you panted, tracing the swollen part of his lower lip that you had bit earlier, and now you were starting to feel your eyes tear up, too, “I’m sorry, I... I don’t know what made me do that.”

“It’s okay, angel, we’re both drunk out of our minds right now,” his voice began with a weak giggle, just as his arms were starting to feel numb for holding you for so long.

Fusing your back with the wall, you were shocked to feel that Sungchan could possibly reach even deeper inside you, and it was only with a few more thrusts while coupled with the pleasured whimpers you finally let out for him that your boyfriend reached his climax.

“Fuck, baby... ahh... nghh... fuckkk,” a string of curse words spilled from your lips, but Sungchan covered your mouth almost instantly once he heard someone open the bathroom entry door.

“Mmm,” you hummed again, but he shushed you with a finger, hearing a stall open and close just a few feet away from you before their footsteps stopped.

And you couldn’t be more lucky that there was faint music playing from the speakers, provoking you and Sungchan to get back dressed as fast as y’all could while you still had a chance at doing so undetected.

Your feet hit the ground with a gentle thud once he released you from his grasp, and you both smiled at how ridiculous you both felt in this moment.

Slipping off his soiled condom, he discarded it down the toilet, pinning you against the wall to find your lips in yet another harsh kiss as he hummed softly, “We’re never going to a party like this again, right?”

“Agreed,” you said back, readjusting your cheer skirt and panties as your boyfriend slid his pants up, ruffling his hair a few times before finally opening the stall door to leave...

Both of your emotions were always like a rollercoaster whenever you got drunk. One second you were both a bunch of moody lug nuts, and then the next, you two were practically inseparable...

With your arm hooked in Sungchan’s, you rested your head on his stature as he led you out of the bathroom stall, and you weren’t all that surprised to spot Samantha there, wide-eyed and confused as you and him casually walked out together.

“Did you guys... Why were you both?... Wait…"   Samantha’s voice trailed off as she tried her hardest to get a coherent sentence out but failed nonetheless once Sungchan and you started giggling to each other before walking out the restroom.

And you’re certain the stall you two had just left reeked of body warmth and sex, but being too drunk to spare a care, you both waved everyone off before heading home, only to flat out crash on your shared mattress and sleep the night away while still wearing your costumes...

⋆♱✮ Thanks to everyone who made it to the end of DAY 9's fic entry for my Kinktober Event !! This is a bit shitty tbh, but nonetheless, if you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links :3

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

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⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

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@d-dilemma @mrsjohnnysuh

[with-my-calamitous-love]

I CHOOSE YOU AND ME, RELIGIOUSLY

osamu dazai x reader

thoughts about how dazai would treat you

same premise as the chuuya + atsushi ver

inspired by guilty as sin

osamu dazai, who doesn’t really know how to love. you confuse him and challenge the equations in his head. who is a mystery to everyone, even himself. who is sure that nothing will fill his heart. who is easy to approach, but hard to love.

osamu dazai, who wonders if he’s allowed to cry. if he’s allowed to show any real emotion behind the walls and bandages he’s put up. who wonders if he- an absolute vile monster of a man- is allowed to love you. who wonders if he deserves anything more than death for what he’s done, for the demon he still thinks he is.

osamu dazai, who still tries to be a good man. who takes the words of his former friend to heart. who wonders when he’ll deserve to love. who wonders when he’s considered good enough to love you. who is usually so smart, so calculated, and so thoughtful, and who is at an embarrassing loss for words when it comes to you.

osamu dazai, who decides he’ll bet against the universe once again. who throws his life to the wolves and the ocean rocks if it means getting to hold you. who treats you like gold, whispering words into your ear he would never dare to speak to anyone else. “you’re not my first kiss, my first time, or even my first ‘i love you’ but you are the first person who made living seem possible for me.”

osamu dazai, who prefers to be alone. who knows thats what makes you different, because for the first time ever, he craves your presence. he wants you in his lap while he reads, who actively pulls you towards him when he sleeps, who kisses your knuckles before leaving for a mission, who returns to engulf you in his embrace when he steps into a home. who actually thinks of his apartment as a home when you’re in it.

osamu dazai, who everyone thinks is a womanizer, but is secretly a gentlemen. who knows chivalry like its his first language. who always opens to the door for you, slips his hand around your waist like a puzzle piece, who zips up all your clothes for you, who presses kisses underneath your ear while he’s at it, who reads you poetry, who teases you because he can’t help but love the way you turn pink, who somehow manages to keep the flowers he buys for you alive for longer, who knows everything about you, and who lets you decode his soul.

osamu dazai, who wants you to know him as well as he knows you. who tells you about his past, about his wrongdoings, about odasaku. who swears that the most human he has ever felt was when he was looking at you. who can’t fathom how you’re real. who lets you see whats under his bandages. how his heart swells when you kiss each one.

osamu dazai, who makes chuuya promise him to protect you should anything ever happen to him. who can’t stand the thought of you leaving, even though death was such a common feeling for him in his life. who tells chuuya you’re his everything, and trusts him to look after you. who can’t imagine another man ever loving you, but knows that chuuya is a man of promises, and will not let anyone touch a hair on your head once he’s gone.

osamu dazai, who thinks of you as way to die. who takes one look at you and recalls things that haven’t even happened yet. late nights, messy kisses, promises, families, embraces, heaven, sin, unraveling, scars, loving not despite but because. who’s heart is so full of you he can barely call it his own anymore.

osamu dazai, who thinks that even if its all make belief, and if he’s simply made you up, he’ll uphold his vows anyway. he’ll still come home to you with a kiss to your forehead. he’ll still always give you his jacket when you even slightly shiver. he’ll still read to you his favourite poetry, tell you his secrets and watch how you love him anyway. he thinks that even if you aren’t real, he’ll love you like his favourite storybook.

osamu dazai, who knows the world will crucify him anyway. who knows he’ll likely pay for what he’s done at some point. who knows the universe will catch up to him soon, even though he’s trying to be better. who thinks its okay if he gets what he deserves, even if its death, because he’s already seen heaven just by kissing you. who thinks that way you hold him is spiritually holy, who lets you haunt him stunningly. he vows to find you in another life, one where he can deserve you. a life where he an love you with no limits. who knows he’ll choose you, always.

[konfeitos]

YOU STILL HAVE IT? — JJK MEN X M!READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring   :   choso , nanami kento , higuruma hiromi , & getou suguru .

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀synopsis   :   you discover that your boyfriend is still holding onto something you gave them a long while ago ! — WC: 1.7k

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes   :   male reader. fluff. established relationship. "darling" & "love" as a nickname. not proofread.

✧ ⠀ › ⠀ CHOSO

Without a doubt, he keeps everything related to you two and your relationship in a special box. Anything you’ve ever given to him or something you two have gotten while out on a date is kept safe in this box. 

Expect to see things from old letters to polaroid pictures to even movie or concert tickets. Just about anything and everything really.

He likes to preserve all these things as if he’s captured the moments and memories. Every single thing saved carries the weight of your shared love and affection for each other, and that’s something that he won’t risk losing.

This also applies with digital things such as any selfies and pictures you’ve sent him. He saves them all and has a folder dedicated to those pictures that’s named “my boyfriend ♡”.

Both you and Choso are searching through his room for a movie disc—one that Itadori swears up and down he left behind there the last time he visited. As you crouch down in hopes you’ll find this movie case and call an end to this search, your eyes land on a box that’s innocently sitting underneath the bed.

You can’t recall ever seeing this box here before. Then again, it’s not as if you’re actively rummaging around under your boyfriend’s bed.

This must be where Itadori’s movie is then. That’s the conclusion you come up with as you slide the box out. But before you can question Itadori’s choice in keeping a movie disc in such a large box, your thoughts come to a halt as you open it.

“Oh,” Blinking a couple times, the items within the box don’t change. Rather than being the movie disc you thought you finally found, there’s stacks of letters, dried flowers, some tickets, and more instead. 

It wasn’t until your eyes landed on the movie tickets on the very top and noticed the movie title and the date were the exact same as the movie date you went with Choso just last weekend.

That’s when it hits you that you recognize all these items. 

“You kept all this?”

Your voice guides Choso’s attention away from the drawers he was searching through. His steps are quiet as he moves over to your side, peering at what you’re looking at.

His eyes widened a slight bit once he realized what you’ve found before he crouched beside you. “Of course,” There’s a hint of a smile that reached his face as his gaze lingered on the items, “Why would I not keep all this? They hold such fond memories that I would like to keep.”

The response tugged at your heart that you can’t help but coo softly, reaching out to kiss him.

“That’s really cute.” 

Neither one of you have any complaints about putting a pause on searching for Itadori’s movie in favor of going through old memories and reminiscing on those times.

✧ ⠀ › ⠀ NANAMI KENTO

All the flowers and bouquets that you give him randomly are the ones that he preserves. Of course, it’s difficult to keep flowers after they start wilting, so he goes through the process of pressing them as a way to keep them.

He cherishes each of them with all his heart. It makes him smile whenever you surprise him with them, so he likes to maintain them and they tend to last for a long time.

Depending on the flowers, he may dry them to preserve their shape and display them instead of pressing them. Either way, he will have them around as if leaving tokens of your love all over his place. 

Anywhere he steps in his place and sees those dried or pressed flowers is a strong reminder of your love for him.

You’re helping him clean around the house to lessen the weight from his shoulders (even though he insists that you don’t have to, you always do since you love seeing the tension leave his body whenever he has less this stress over). 

As you’re wiping down some tables, you can’t help but get distracted by the sight of some pressed flowers and petals framed. These weren’t here the last time you came over.

You stepped closer to these frames, leaning in to admire the sight of them.

“Hey Kento, where did you get these?” You ask him, voice full of curiosity. You never pictured Kento as the type of man to decorate his space with pressed flowers, but you can’t deny that they do look rather pretty. 

Even if the ones you were admiring were only lined up in a row, waiting for a proper place to be set up.

You hear Kento make his way over to you. A partially questioning look on his face given your lack of specifics on what you were referring to. 

Though it soon fades away once he notices the pressed flowers that you’re near. “Oh, those are from bouquets and flowers you’ve given me.”

It was a simple answer. A simple answer that had you stare up at Kento in awe.

“Huh? Like all of them?”

“Yes, all of them.”

Feeling surprised is an understatement. You never expected him to do anything with the flowers you’ve given him. Your gaze shifted back to the pressed flowers, admiring them a bit longer, and you turned back to look at him with a smile.

“Can you teach me how to do that? I want to save some of the flowers you get me too!” 

“Of course, darling.”

✧ ⠀ › ⠀ HIGURUMA HIROMI

You have the habit of leaving him sticky notes with either motivational messages or silly doodles for him to find or take as he goes to work. It’s something for him to look at and be reminded that he has you cheering him on to get through the day.

It absolutely does get him through the day. There was no way he would be able to part with them once the sticky notes lost their adhesive. Especially not when he’s staring at the ones in his hands that have your handwriting mentioning how you love him.

The older notes are kept somewhere safe in a box at the bottom of a drawer. All the newer ones are those that he sets up onto his computer and desk, in places that he can easily see while he’s working.

“Hiromi, you forgot your lunch.” The sound of your voice pulls him away from the documents that Hiromi was going through. It wasn’t that often that you came to visit him at his workplace, but of all the times you did, it was mostly for the same reason. Him forgetting his lunch.

It made him grateful to have someone as caring as you, who always looked out for his well-being and made sure that he didn’t skip out on any meals.

His eyes traveled slightly down to look at the bento in your hands. He can see another one of your sticky notes right on top of it, especially as you soon hold it out to him.

Any traces of exhaustion seemed to wash away at the mere sight of you and that note. 

With a soft thanks, he sets the bento down to his desk, away from his important papers, as you walk around the desk to be closer to him. You’re leaning close to press a kiss to his temple when you spot a small pile of sticky notes at the side of his desk from the corner of your eye..

At first, you thought these were some notes he made, but you soon recognize your own handwriting and doodles. Except these aren’t any of the recent ones you’ve done for him.

No, they looked older.

“I didn’t know you still had those old notes.” You commented after you finally gave Hiromi a quick kiss at his temple. 

His head tilted in the direction that you’re staring at. “Ah,” He reached out for the pile, “Well, I couldn’t just get rid of them. I like looking back on them.” Hiromi admitted before he went to rest his head against your side.

He can’t help but gravitate to his lovely boyfriend with such ease. “Especially on long days.”

“That’s sweet,” You tell him with a smile growing on your face. “I’ll be sure to write you a lot more notes then.” 

“I appreciate that, love.”

✧ ⠀ › ⠀ GETOU SUGURU

It’s pictures of you that he tends to keep. Anything from picture booths to polaroids to random pictures you printed out and handed to him.

He keeps them all and carries at least one picture in his wallet. Whenever he’s out with his daughters and going to pay, the employee behind the counter gets a glimpse of whatever picture he has in his wallet.  

The picture is constantly being swapped around. Sometimes it’s just of you, other times it’s a picture that has the both of you in it, and there's some that have you both and his daughters there.

Nanako and Mimiko sent you both out to check out this new cafe that opened up to see if it was worth stopping by. It was a cute place; one that you’re certain that they will enjoy.

Right now, you’re in line with Suguru to order some drinks and pastries (to take back for the girls, of course). Idle conversations are made as you both move up to the front with Suguru stepping in to take care of ordering.

When he takes out his wallet to pull out his card, your eyes happen to flicker over. In there you spot a polaroid tucked safely inside of the two of you.

It’s one of the more sillier pictures that exist of you both. You remember how long it took to convince Suguru to strike the most ridiculous pose with you, and you remember the minor complaints he had afterwards once the polaroids developed. 

Your copy of the polaroid is kept safe with the rest of the other polaroids of you two, but you never had any idea of what Suguru did with his. 

“You still have that photo?” You asked, voice full of amusement as the memories of that night came flooding back. “I thought you said you didn’t like it because of how silly you looked.”

One end of his mouth twitched partially upwards at your words. “Hm, I did,” Suguru hummed softly while he pulled out the polaroid. “But my boyfriend looks very adorable in it, so I can look past that.” 

The way that he shoots you a small grin manages to bring some color to your cheeks.

And it doesn’t help that he carries on as normal, paying for the order, and the employee also comments what a cute picture that polaroid was. His simple response of, “I know,” was more than enough to make your cheeks flush even more.

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 3)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Just as Y/N thought she had it all figured out in LA, her world spins out of control when Evan Peters storms in like a tornado. Their electrifying hook-up leaves her reeling, but waking up alone, she fears the worst. Then, a note appears—his number and an invitation to a date teasing her with a chance. What starts as a romantic evening quickly spirals into a frenzy of hide-and-seek and sex.

Warnings ─ Swearing, semi-public, oral (both receiving), doggy, shower sex, overstimulation, fingering, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, extra smutty—you savvy pros, you know the game inside out ;)

Read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Word count ─ 5K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

You stir awake, blinking sleep away and squinting against the sunlight that streams through your curtains. A lazy smile curves your lips as you stretch, reaching out for...empty sheets. Mmhh, you just love the taste of nothing.

Evan’s not here... Emotional damage, even if what you had was an agreed one-off fling.

A soft groan escapes you as you fumble for your phone, the bright screen momentarily blinding you. 9:30. As you bury your nose into his pillowcase, you inhale deeply, catching a generous whiff of his essence’s sweet residue. You sigh deeply as your eyes land on the bedside table. His missing keys solidify the reality that he’s bounced, and you can’t help but frown.

“I feel like his side hoe when I should be the main character,” you think aloud, grumbling, and it’s giving trauma dumping and anxious attachment. What a refreshing concoction of disaster.

But what really puzzles you is the extra blanket draped over your duvet like a surprise guest. You wrack your brain, trying to recall if you snuggled up in it during the night, but it’s as hazy as trying to piece together a fuzzy Freudian dream.

With a resigned sigh, you roll out of bed, already craving his warmth. Mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you distract yourself with social media updates, news snippets, and the day’s weather forecast while you shuffle to the kitchen for your morning caffeine fix. A pang of disappointment hangs around like a lost sock in the dryer, but you refuse to let it dim your day and activate your female rage.

Or so you tell yourself.

Podcast blaring in the background, you tiptoe your way to the bathroom, facing your reflection in the mirror. You impulsively retrace the invisible path of Evan’s touch on you—from lips to chin, jawline, and neck down your cleavage and stomach. Each sensation has left its mark, and you can’t get enough of the sweet echoes. You sniff through your hair and arms in a desperate attempt to capture his scent on you—a tantalising hint of cinnamon and the musk of his natural oils that never fails to make your knees go weak.

You hop into the shower, letting the scalding water wash away your frustrations. Emerging revitalised and ready to conquer the day, you hastily throw on your work clothes and toss your keys and lanyard into your bag.

And that’s when you spot it by the entrance door—the note board. That bold black marker circling today’s 9 pm to 6 am time slot on your shift calendar, an arrow pointing directly to a message, practically winking at you, “Dinner and quality time with Evan. Text this number for more details.” Your heart somersaults with joy as you read the note over and over again, a goofy grin spreading across your face like wildfire.

You press a quick kiss to the note, folding it carefully and tucking it away as if it holds all the secrets of the universe. With a sense of anticipation bubbling in your chest, you dash out the door, already fashionably late.

On the subway, you retrieve the scrap of paper, tracing your fingers over his elegant handwriting with a soft smile. With a sarcastic tonality, you already craft your message, “I thought ghosts just floated around, they don’t ask you out.”

Within seconds, his response lights up your screen. “Morning to you too. Slept well? I’m the upgraded phantom version. Meet your Casper tonight at 9?”

You can’t help but giggle at his wit. Another text pops up, complete with coordinates to the restaurant he’s inviting you. The excitement builds inside you like a shaken soda bottle, and you’re practically fizzing with anticipation to see what the night has in store.

Time seems to trudge along at a sloth’s pace as you grind through your shift at the boutique. You flash your best retail smile as you serve customers on the cash register. Though, your mind is a million miles away, replaying the reel of moments with Evan; those moments when you convinced yourself that your insides were gonna spill out while he was going to town on you.

Half-heartedly, you tidy up the shop floor, picking up stray items and straightening displays. But let’s be real, your fingers move mechanically, and your brain is on autopilot as your thoughts wander back to the anticipation of tonight’s date. The enthusiasm is buzzing through you like a sugar rush, making it damn near impossible to focus on folding clothes or rearranging racks.

Each interaction with a customer is a blur as you absentmindedly tackle the fitting room. They might as well be talking to a mannequin for all you care. Your mind is firmly planted in Evan-land, where every moment is hot and heavy, and you’re too busy mentally undressing him for the umpteenth time.

“Girl, let me in your bubble, would you?” The voice of Trisha, your department’s jokester, slices through your daydreaming like a ninja with a chainsaw.

You blink, momentarily disoriented, before bursting into laughter at her impeccable timing. “Trish!” you exclaim, relishing in her knack to crack you up with her quirky humour. “Sorry, this bubble is strictly reserved for someone today.”

Her giggle rings out like music in the store as she playfully rolls her eyes. “Fine, fine! You do you, boo. Just make sure to save some of that magic for the rest of us in Stylista Gine, deal?”

With a saucy wink, she sashays off to attend to her own tasks, leaving you to shake off your giggles. The minutes tick by, and eventually, your shift mercifully comes to an end. With a sigh of relief and a bounce in your step, you clock out, knowing that soon you’ll be back in Evan’s arms (and on his dick).

You hastily trod along Sunset Boulevard, your sleek dark coat swinging with each step, and your little black dress add an extra sway to your stride. You’re practically power-walking in heels, like you’re in a race against time and your destination is the finish line.

Arriving at the hotel he’s staying at, you adjust the strap of your black stilettos around your ankle, ensuring no wardrobe malfunctions with your stocking will disrupt your night. With your heart thudding, you breeze through the sliding doors and past the reception. 

The tantalising scent of watermelon cocktail teases your senses as you strut in the bar restaurant, scoping out the room with mounting anticipation.

“Hi there, reservation for Peters?” you inquire, shooting a charming smile at the host, your racing emotions briefly receding.

Reciprocating with a polite grin, he quickly checks his tablet before nodding in confirmation. “Got it! Table 8. Right this way, miss,” he affirms, extending his arm in a welcoming gesture. 

Following the host, you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement as you round the corner and spot Evan’s back at the table. He looks effortlessly handsome in his blazer, like he’s just stepped out of a magazine spread, making your stomach churn with blissful nerves.

“Looks like my date’s here, thanks,” you note quietly with a soft smile.

“Awesome! Enjoy,” the host replies cheerfully, heading back to his post.

As you approach Evan, you lean in and give his shoulder a cheeky squeeze—a silent yet affectionate greeting that speaks volume. His gaze lights up with recognition, and he practically jumps from his chair, his grin widening as he’s eyeing you from top to bottom.

“Hey!” he exclaims, his voice laced with enthusiasm. “My eyes needed a bit of a warning for this stunner. Your fit’s so sleek, it looks tailor-made,” he adds shortly after, beaming, as you flow in a warm hug, his arms clinging around you like he never wants to let go.

With a crooked smirk, you blurt out with a touch of sarcasm, “Thanks. I picked it up with you in mind.”

His eyes widen in surprise, his grin expanding by the second. “Seriously?” he squeaks, visually delighted by the notion. 

You giggle, shaking your head. “Nah, but imagine if I did,” you fire back, your hearty laughter dancing in the air like confetti.

Before you know it, an electric tension fills the space between you as you stand mere inches apart, locked in a silent yet smouldering gaze.

“Are we on a ‘try not to kiss’ challenge?” he spills out, his voice an alluring murmur as his minty breath pleasantly prickles your skin.

A sly smile tugs at your lips. “Let’s see who caves and closes the gap first,” you hum as you flicker between his lips and his eyes. He feels the tension coil in his gut but forces it down with a hard gulp. 

Leaning in closer, his breath mingles with yours as he whispers, “You gotta give your best shot not to kiss me, then,” his tone carrying a seductive undertone that sends a delicious thrill rushing through you.

“You wish. No chance I’m smudging my tinted lip balm,” you retort and playfully pinch his nose, punctuating your mocking banter with a wink.

With a graceful flip of your hair and a coy smile, you ease into your chair, feeling the heat of his gaze on you, all self-assured about the sensual spell you’ve cast over him. 

He’s practically eye-fucking you right now, and you’re loving it.

“If that’s your idea of payback for sneaking out this morning, Y/N, I’ve been running errands and exploring new job prospects for next year,” he explains earnestly, handing you a straw for your cocktail and cutlery for your appetisers.

“And I may or may not have picked up a little something for you,” he announces next, pulling out a wrapped box from his blazer pocket, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

Your playful vibe evaporates, replaced by a whirlwind of shock and emotion. “Shut the…front door, no way,” you utter sheepishly as you cautiously reach for the unexpected gift.

With a throaty chuckle at your reaction, he jerks his eyebrows upwards, silently encouraging you to dive into the gift.

You eagerly rip open the packaging, gasping in disbelief. “Roland Barthes, Mythologies…Oh my days,” you cry out, unable to believe your luck. Your eyes flit to the curious glances from other patrons in the corner, and you swiftly tone your enthusiasm down a notch.

He nods in understanding, smiling fondly at you. “Yep, saw his Lover’s Discourse on your bedside table, and the bookmark was dangling on the final pages,” he justifies, a knowing twinkle in his gaze.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you slide the book in your bag and rise from your seat. “Ugh, Evan! Thanks a ton, you’re the best,” you gush, your voice thick with gratitude as you move closer to him.

He stands up too, his eyes fixed on yours, soft with affection. Stepping closer, his dark eyes dart from your lips to your eyes, as if he’s wordlessly asking for permission. Instead, he reaches out to pull you into a hug, but you gently lift his chin and crane your neck, sealing his plush, pink lips in a brief yet tender peck.

As you break the kiss, Evan blinks in surprise, seemingly caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. His eyes search yours, silently questioning the unspoken feelings that hover between you, his own heart pounding with anticipation.

“Why did that take so long today?” he sighs against your ear, softly touching his lips. His voice, like honey dripping from velvet, resounds in your ears like a melody as he delicately brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes—the colour of rich black chocolate—are glued on yours, and the gravitational pull of his euphoric visual abyss draws you in.

Your heart flutters at the intensity of his gaze, feeling the heat expand through you. “It took long for momentum,” you retort, your tone light with playful teasing as you flash him a coy smile and sit back down.

The buffalo cauliflower bites aren’t the only thing heating up at your table; your conversation’s spicier than a jalapeño popper and with more layers than a double-decker with extra cheese. One minute you’re debating the perfect burrito toppings, embarrassing childhood nicknames, weird dreams, European cinema and 80s bands, and the next, you’re digging into careers, beliefs, goals, and life’s deepest truths.

It’s like a game of emotional Jenga—one block, or in this case, one topic leads to another, and before you could utter ‘Evan, eat me,’ you’ve both laid your souls bare without even realising it.

Fully immersed in the flirtatious banter, Evan beckons invitingly to the seat beside him with a subtle tilt of his head. “Why don’t you slide here, so I can properly admire your outfit?” he mumbles in a husky timbre, his eyes ablaze with desire.

But just as the tension between you ignites like a volcano lava, the waiter interrupts with his timely arrival. “What can I get for you both?” he interjects, shattering the moment. 

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you gesture Evan to go first, shooting him a ‘hold up, let me cook,’ look. With a bold move, you slip off your shoe under the table and discreetly brush your foot against his pant leg.

You feel him stiffen as he places his order, his composure wearing out. Stifling a giggle, you almost sadistically enjoy his flustered state as he clumsily fumbles and drops his menu, the clatter against the plate resonating like a thunderbolt. 

He’s a ten, but he stumbles over his words and over-apologises when aroused in the most inappropriate settings. Take my money, that bumps him up to a solid thirty.  

“Would you like extra cheese with that?” the waiter chimes in, oblivious to the charged atmosphere crackling between you.

Evan nods, swallowing thickly as your foot ventures higher up his thigh, stoking the flames of his growing hardness.

“And you, miss?”

“Eh? Umm, double everything, please. I’ll have what he’s having. Thanks,” you mutter with a half smile, your leg rubbing against his throbbing erection to a fever pitch.

As the waiter marches to the kitchen, Evan clenches his jaw, frustration painted all over his stormy gaze. He bunches his cloth napkin from his lap and tosses it onto his plate, blowing out a sharp, exasperated breath.

“Evan,” you call out with an apologetic expression, watching him push his chair with the backs of his knees and storm off to the bathroom.

You shoulder the heavy door and step into the empty men’s bathroom, your insides wounding themselves in knots. You scan the room, hunting for any trace of Evan, until your gaze lands on the locked door at the end. Curiosity gnaws at you, nudging you to investigate.

With a hesitant knock, you signal your presence. Before you can react, the door swings open, and Evan’s dark eyes greet you from the other side as he pulls you into the room.

The door clicks shut behind you as you quickly take in the gold-hued surroundings: a lavish toilet, a gleaming sink, and a long bench strewn with plush towels and designer toiletries. The place gives you a babushka-esque feel—a mini, fully-equipped restroom within the main one, and it’s like stepping into a VIP sanctuary.

Though, as you register Evan’s proximity, his body pressed flush against yours, your thoughts scatter like marbles on a polished floor, and pleasure sparks sizzle through your veins like a live wire.

“Hey,” you bleat, feeling the tension twist in your gut as you swallow hard, trying to steady yourself. 

His strong arms cradle your waist. He draws you into a tight embrace until you’re cocooned on his lap, the heat of his body searing into your skin.

You cross your legs as he closes the distance between you, his veiny hands fondling and squeezing your thighs greedily and possessively. 

“Evan,” you croak out, clearing your throat to ground yourself as he strokes your cheek with his knuckle. “I realise that might have been a bit much for public display…and I’m sorry,” you mumble, flashing him an apologetic look before averting your gaze.

But his expression remains stern, a furrow creasing his brow as he lets out an exaggerated huff—eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line. “That won’t fix it, I’m afraid. I’m still hurt and embarrassed.” 

You quirk a brow at him, a hint of defiance in your gaze as you meet his unwavering stare. “And what do you suggest now?” you challenge with a sly smirk, a daring spark igniting in your face.

His lips curl into a sinister smile as he leans in, his scorching breath against your ear sending a tremor down your backbone. “Get on your knees, and use this beautiful mouth of yours to show me just how sorry you are,” he whispers as he’s massaging your tits, his words like an electric current buzzing through you at a high voltage.

You snort, your hand weaving through his silky hair as you draw him closer. “Oh, you think you’ve won? I’d be more than happy to suck you up—day and night, overtime included,” you purr, your voice husky with longing as you sink to your knees.

Positioned between his legs, you look up at him with a mischievous smile. “Someone’s suffering in there,” you coo and outline his stiff shaft with your tongue, feeling him twitch beneath the smooth fabric, aching for freedom.

Pinned against the wall, he sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, his hips buckling forward in desperate response.

The button of his slacks loosely holds on, barely containing his throbbing beast from bursting it open. Gripping the cold metal of his zipper between your teeth, you drag it down slowly, your pussy dripping as his low growl rumbles from his chest like distant thunder when he finally finds release.

You reach up, flipping down the elastic waistband of his boxers so you can slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along his pulsing crimson tip.

“Suck it, don’t tease,” he commands, his tone rigid and thick with desire. You comply without hesitation, eagerly licking off the subtle traces of his seed off the tip, twirling your tongue around it.

Your mouth is immediately slick with his precum, the thick fluid coating the corners of your lips. The heady scent drives you wild as you savour every drop of his essence. You keep using your tongue to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges and pressing into the squishy flesh of his head.

He bites down on his lips, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he battles to muffle his grunts, his body quivering with need.  

When you finally close your lips around his painfully hard cock, he reacts with a sharp intake of breath. His fingers thread through your hair as he breathlessly whines your name like a fervent prayer. From that angle, his dimples appear as dark slits along his cheeks, adding to his rugged allure.

You meet his gaze with a sultry mewl of pleasure, giving your throat more room to take him in harder and deeper into your mouth. Flattening your tongue, you glide lower on him as you hold onto his pelvis until his head crushes the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex.

Challenge accepted; you handle him like a pro.

“Y/N, you’re… oh, fuck… No,” he sputters out with an intense shudder, rubbing his eyes as he fights the overwhelming tide of his impending orgasm.

“Load me,” you exhale teasingly as you pull him out of your mouth only to pump him back down with renewed hunger. He intertwines his fingers with yours, guiding your movements as you kick off a slow, torturous rhythmic ordeal just to gauge his reaction.

With a choked moan, he tightens his grip, sticking his convulsing cock all the way down with urgency, thrusting in your mouth with a ruthless pace.

His move and the resonance of his deep voice send a surge of heat to your core that consumes you, tripling the moisture in your panties.

You want him in ways that will add new sins to the bible.

Each time you rise, you suck his tip with fervour before slamming back down on his throbbing length. The symphony of moans he’s emitting are almost sinful—you’ve never gotten soaking wet just from hearing a man groan. He’s gonna be the death of your ovaries.

As you steal a gaze upwards, his abs glistening with a sheen of sweat, you watch his head fall back. “No,” he breathes out repetitively, his chest heaving and his Adam’s apple bobbing—a tell-tale sign that he’s on the brink of letting his load spray onto anything in the room.

His balls tighten, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turn sloppy and messy. Blinded by pleasure, his mind goes blank as he teeters on the edge.

Still panting, he hauls you off him more forcefully, his fingers hooking onto the hem of your stockings. You notice his nose scrunch up in clear disapproval as he glares at your lips—swollen and shining with wetness—immediately stripping you off your undergarments with raw intensity.

Flipping you over so your upper body’s bent over the wooden bench, he gropes your ass cheek before slapping it harshly, making you squeal with excitement. “Why do I have to say no twice?” he growls, his voice ringing with dominance as he claims you as his own.

You’re ovulating, so your audacity and inhibitions are thrown to the wind, acting like you’ve been dick-deprived your entire life. “I wanna tick you off so much you show no mercy. Just take me already,” you demand, your voice heavy with despair.

With a guttural groan, he obliges, rutting his hips as he lines up his leaking tip with your entrance. The moment he meets your wet folds, you both gasp in unison as he plunges in you. The sensation of him filling you up sparks fireworks as he humps you in long, steady thrusts, his velvet plush head bumping against your swollen clit with a delicious friction.

Your cries threaten to spill out, but his hand clamps gently over your mouth to shush you, his dark eyes flashing with warning. “We have to be quiet, baby,” he rasps, his voice tinged with lust. You turn over your shoulder and nod underneath his grasp, your half-lidded eyes glazing with pleasure.

A muffled yelp roars against his palm as he drills his aching cock deeper inside of you. You grip the edge of the bench tightly, and the sound of it banging against the wall echoes through the room, adding a primal rhythm to your ecstasy. The sensation of your slithery walls stretching to accommodate his thick dick is nothing short of mind-blowing for both of you.

Using the bench for leverage, he thrusts harder, his hand trailing up to caress the curve of your ribs as you writhe beneath him. “Fuck, I love your wet little pussy,” he hisses with primitive desire. “Cum for me, Y/N, all over my dick.”

“I’m getting there, baby. I wanna drown in your juices,” you moan, feeling his jaw slacken against your back as your walls pulse around his throbbing cock.

Just as the bench keeps bashing against the concrete wall in sync with your rising orgasms, a sudden crash breaks the intensity of the moment. The yellow paint plastic box from above the shelf tumbles down—its contents splattering over both of you and the wall, creating an impromptu abstract masterpiece in the spur of the moment.

You both freeze, paint trickling down your bodies, adding vibrant hues to your flushed skin. Evan blinks in surprise, his hands still gripping your hips as he takes in the colourful chaos engulfing you.

“Well, we certainly went hard on the paint,” he quips, trying to lighten the mood despite the unexpected interruption.

You chuckle nervously as you survey the lively mess. “Looks like we got more than we bargained for tonight,” you shoot back, your voice filled with playful mischief.

With a wicked smirk, Evan swipes paint off your cheek, leaving a colourful streak between you two as you embrace. “We’ve got a cleanup on our hands before we can get back to what we—” His words are abruptly cut off by approaching footsteps.

Though the intoxicating passion still clouds your mind, one detail arises with sobering clarity: You’re screwed (literally). 

“You hit it off with the first three cubicles, I’ll handle the ones from the end, and we’ll meet in the middle,” a deep man’s voice echoes from outside, sending a jolt of panic through both of you. 

Evan winces and involuntarily grabs your hand. Your body stiffens as you lace your clammy fingers with his, the paint already forming a small puddle at your feet.

Acting on pure instinct, he ushers you deeper into the toilet, using his foot to discreetly slide the torn condom wrapper closer to your hiding spot.

“What’s the plan now?” you mouth. Your palms are raised in a questioning gesture, fingers wiggling subtly, as your breath comes in shallow, shaky huffs.

Evan shrugs. “That was a plot twist, didn’t see it coming,” he replies, barely audible in his hushed response.

You hang onto his shirt for dear life, your face taking a ghost-like pale complexion as you weigh the consequences of the trouble you’re about to get in. “The door’s locked, but there’s a little slot under it. Shall I wait up here until they’re gone?” you pantomime your words, attempting to convey your plan to Evan with the finesse of a silent movie star. But as you try to hoist yourself up and chamber onto the toilet seat, you slip, almost tumbling backward.

Evan swoops in to catch you like a superhero, his forehead wrinkled by worry lines, eyes wide with alarm. “You good?” he whispers urgently, pressing a finger to his lips in a frantic plea for silence.

You nod vigorously, gesturing toward the door with exaggerated motions, communicating your escape plan like you’re on the charades: “Let’s go check if we’re clear, then sneak out.”

Nodding in silent agreement, he unlocks the door with a flick of his wrist. Poking his head out, he peers cautiously into the corridor. You stretch up on your tiptoes, craning your neck to peek out over his shoulder, scanning the corridor for any sign of movement.

Finding no one in sight, you both spring into action with the speed and stealth of seasoned spies. You snatch up as much toilet roll as you can, using it to hastily wipe away the evidence of your paint mishap. The paper becomes saturated with soap and water as you scrub your life away, determined to leave no trace behind.

Before you know it, Evan seizes your hand, purse and shoes, and you skitter out of the bathroom like you’re escaping a high-security prison. You zip past the slightly open doors of the other stalls, and as you weave the maze of hallways, you catch a glimpse of the two cleaning men hard at work—one wielding a toilet spray like a weapon on the lead, while the other, two doors ahead, diligently mops the floor.

 

You burst out of the bathroom, hearts racing and adrenaline pumping, feeling like you just pulled off the heist of the century. In the dimly lit corridor between the toilets and the restaurant, you exchange triumphant grins, basking in the rush of your daring gateway. With a quick, victorious high five, you’re both ready for the next phase of your adventure.

But before you can catch your breath, Evan pulls you close, his lips crashing against yours in a fiery kiss that sets you on fire. His tongue dances with yours, igniting a fierce passion between you. As his hands start to wander along your ass and clit, you can’t resist and melt into his touch, a soft moan slipping off you.

Reality hits you like a freight train, and you protest against his lips, reluctantly swatting his hands away and pushing him back gently. “You can’t waltz back to your table looking like nuggets dipped in mayo, and I don’t have a spare wardrobe stashed in my purse,” you whine. With a determined swipe, you rub off a scuff mark from his cheek, your thumb tracing the contours of his face as he nods in understanding.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, and without missing a beat, he takes your hand and leads you in the direction of the toilet. But as you reach the door, he steers you towards the emergency door instead. Throwing yourselves outside, you’re met with the frigid night air, an uninviting shock after the warmth of the restaurant.

The cold bites at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arms. But Evan is quick to replace your coat, which still hangs off your table chair, and envelops you in an embrace, rubbing your arms to warm you up.

You cling to him, his body heat a comforting embrace as he cups your hands in his, blowing warm breath into them. The moon casts a soft glow over a secluded pond before you, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the hotel.

“I’ve got good and bad news,” Evan chirps, his voice tinged with a mischievous undertone. You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as you lean closer to him, flakes of paint dropping off your arms as he intensifies his rubbing.

“Spill the good news first. Enough shocks for today, I wanna buy myself some time.” 

“The good news is,” he begins, a grin spreading across his face, “my rented place is over there,” he reveals and points behind you. You follow his gaze to the tall complex of flats that extend from the main hotel.

You hum in acknowledgment, planting a quick peck on his lips. “Alright… and what’s the bad news?” you inquire, already bracing yourself for whatever curveball he’s about to throw your way.

“The bad news is that if we wanna keep the prying eyes at bay,” he continues, his eyes fixed on you in mounting suspense, “we’ve got some climbing to do.”

The grass crunches under your feet as you wade through the greenery, your heels sinking into the mud with each step. You duck under the low archway in the middle and reach the towering fence.

“Damn, that’s taller than I thought,” he mutters, eyeing the fence with a furrowed brow.

“Piece of cake,” you counter with a coy smile, tossing your heels on the other end. You make the first move by planting your toes on a cracked piece in the wall, gripping the hurdle tightly to propel yourself upwards.

As he gives you an extra push, his hands boldly grazing your ass, a mischievous sparkle gleams in his eyes. “Speaking of cakes,” he cheers, squeezing your curves as his eyes linger on the enticing view of your cunt beneath your dress, his grin broad and cocky.

“Stay focused, dude,” you hiss, playfully waving him away as you divert your attention back to the task at hand.

With a hint of concern in his voice, Evan watches you climb, ready to catch you if you falter. “Take it slow, Y/N. With this velocity, you gotta use one leg at a time...” he advises, his arms poised to assist you.

Rolling your eyes, you brush off his instruction. “The mansplaining’s redundant, Peters. I’ve got this,” you scold jokingly, confidently manoeuvring over the obstacles.

“It’s hard... oh, mind your head on the branches…” he mumbles, absentmindedly repeating “it’s hard” as he observes your every move with a mix of awe and disbelief.

When you safely tumble over to the other side, he can’t help but chuckle nervously, astonished by your agility. “Oh, that was easy…it was really easy, actually” he mumbles with a shake of his head, mouth agape, still processing your swift ascent.

“Come on, slowpoke,” you taunt, your voice laced with playful challenge. You dust off your hands, the thrill of the escape still coursing through your veins.

“I’m just taking my time,” he defends as he carefully navigates his way over the fence. 

“Says the guy who played Quicksilver,” you mock, giggling, and run your tongue along your teeth with a cheeky smile.

As Evan finally makes it over the fence, he stumbles on a loose stone, his footing giving way beneath him. You gasp, lunging forward to catch him as he starts to fall backward, his arms flailing wildly as he tries to regain his balance.

“Watch out!” you cry out, and you manage to pull him back from the brink of spraining his ankle on the way down. 

He winces in pain, clutching his leg as he tries to stand. “Ouch, that was close,” he groans, his breath hitched. 

Concern floods through you as you help him to his feet, supporting him as he tests his injured ankle. “You okay?” you ask, worry evident in your voice.

Evan nods, his expression strained. “I think so,” he replies, clenching his jaw against the discomfort.

You sigh, realising that your adventure may have taken an unexpected turn. “Maybe we should take it easy for now, old man,” you suggest once you realise he’s fine, suppressing a laugh as you guide him back to safety.

As you playfully rib Evan with the “old man” label, he retaliates by tickling you, his fingers sending ripples of loud laughter down your spine. You squirm and wriggle, trying to escape his teasing grasp, but he’s relentless.

“Alright, alright, I give up!” you yell, breathless from both laughter and excitement. But Evan doesn’t stop there. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he picks you up into his arms, his lips hammering against yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue swirling with yours. 

“Let me show you who’s the old man,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with desire and challenge as he carries you off.

The reception area lies deserted, and the dull glow of an overhead light seeps through the crack at the bottom of the slightly ajar cleaning storage door. 

“Anyone here?” he calls out, testingly, but there’s no response. Without wasting any time, you make a beeline for the elevator. The ding of the lift makes you jump, you launch your bodies up the stairs, bounding them up like a panther on the prowl, your feet padding down on the carpeted floor.

You creep into his room, edging the door shut until the latch clicks into place, and you pause to laugh at the yellow patches on your body. “I feel like I’ve just wrestled a pig in a mud pit.” 

“I’ve got the best way to clean it all up?” he mumbles sloppily into your lips, his arms folded around your waist, massaging your ass.

Hot water spurts out of the shower faucet, raining down marvellously on the tiled floor. You smile, holding your hand up to it and watching the paint, mostly dried now, run off your legs before landing on the ground and swirling around the drain. The temperature is heavenly, able to ease even the deepest aching of your shoulders, and your smile widens.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, planting a few teasing kisses along your exposed collarbone.

You bite down your lip at the sensation. “Finger-fuck while you kiss me, first. I need it,” you huff in despair, eyes imploring.

“You wish, I deliver, baby,” he breathes out, suckling on your pulse as you lightly pump his erect shaft in your hand in your fluid motion. He seems way too horny and too into you to say no.

He grunts and grounds his hips against your inner thigh. Against the wall, his fingers dip in, gathering some of your warm, slithery wetness and splotching it over your shiny folds. His free hand claws on your face, dragging you for a breathless kiss.

“Gosh,” you moan chokingly, an exhilarating lilt in your words. Your back arches as you feel that knot in your stomach beginning to snap. The pad of his middle finger keeps tapping and circling your clit, and you feel the escalating climb of your orgasm. Your legs start to twitch, and once he realises this, his fingers slowly drift away from your weeping cunt, his slick fingers gripping your thigh.

“Wh-why?” you protest in frustration.

Without uttering a single syllable, he snatches the detachable shower head, a smirk playing on his lips as he winds the cable around his wrist. He cranks the setting to its highest level and kneels down, parting your slopping folds with a confident touch. His lips curve in a devilish smile as he takes sight of your pulsating pussy clenching around nothing, giggling as he realises he’s edged you so badly.

As he positions the shower head near your throbbing clit, you instinctively clamp your hand over your mouth, stifling the shrill whimper that threatens to escape. The sensation of the water hitting your sensitive bud forces your breath out in punchy, laboured gasps as you feel the vibrations bringing your high closer.

He laps at your cunt like it’s a melting ice cream cone, and it doesn’t take long for your sweet cream to leak out along his mouth. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyelids fluttering as you’re consumed by the tsunami of your looming orgasm. Each flick of his tongue sends tremors through your thighs, the wet, slick sounds filling the room.

His tongue flattens out against your clit and you let out a needy whine, your hips instinctively bucking against his mouth. He presses his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue jerking at the underside of your clit. As he licks at your entrance, he sinks his tongue into your soaking hole, you cum on his tongue, grinding his face, moaning his name in heavy, ragged pants.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you, he stands up straight, his hands gently caressing your waistband in a soothing gesture. But you’re not done yet. With a hungry urgency, you pull him into a kiss, your lips melding together.

He backs you against the wall, hiking up your thighs and wrapping them tightly around his waist. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him to your dripping entrance. As he slams into you, the world around you fades away, and your head lolls back in ecstasy.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he grunts as he pounds harsher and faster in you, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks.

Your slick is trickling down his cock, creating a slippery mess on his thighs as he drives into you relentlessly. His breathing picks up pace, the air thick with the heady scent of sex and steam. You almost had him, until his hands forces your hips down onto his cock as far as they would go, his tip nudging against your cervix.

A scream tears from your lips as you squirm against his ruthless assault and bruising force. The tip of his cock brushes against that spongy spot inside you time and time again, the lewd squelching sounds of your poor, swollen cunt only a faint indicator that you were close.

In the misty haze of the shower, you catch him smirk crookedly, pleased with the visual above him. Your tits bounce tantalisingly in front of him, a tempting feast he can’t resist as he reaches out to grab them in his mouth, eager to taste every inch of your trembling body.

As the unbearably tight, hot coil in your abdomen snaps, you’re unable to contain the set of moans that spill from your lips. A tingling heat spreads across your body, your muscles contracting and burning with the intensity of your release.

His face contorts in pleasure, his brows knitting together as his jaw drops in awe. His breaths come out in hurried, choppy huffs as he pumps inside you, warm, white strings of cum painting your walls as if he marks his territory and you as his own.

“Ugh, I’m dizzy...and l look like shit,” you huff out, your voice laced with giggles. Evan stays still for a moment, burying his face into the crook of you neck.

“You’re dizzy but beautiful,” he rasps, chuckling breathlessly, and you feel your cheeks flushing. He strokes your face, his touch tender and loving as he presses soft kisses against your lips. Your tongues dance together in a sweet and intimate exchange as soft moans escape both of you.

Slowly, he pulls out. A mix of your juices coats his tip as it drips from your hole in a seductive display of your shared ecstasy.

“I want cuddles on the bed now,” he says, his voice soft and pleading, a hint of a pout playing on his lips as he gazes at you with adoration.

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

Can I request korekiyo shinguji x male reader that acts like riddle rosehearts?

Can the kinks be toy use and bondage ♡´･ᴗ･`♡?

Sorry I don't really have a story plot but m!reader is the bottom, and they are still part of the killing game

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

Welcome, patron! Thank you for being the first request in Kaiser’s House of Desires! No need to worry of a plot, just enjoy yourself as I deliver your request~

Title: Taming the Prince

Characters: Top!Korekiyo Shinguji x Bottom!m!reader

Contains: Toy usage(vibrator, cock ring, sybian), bondage, begging, slight degradation, some praise, orgasm denial, despair DR

Fandom: Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

“Eyes up here.”

It was almost difficult to hear his voice over the sound of the machine he had on. Korekiyo stood above you, holding a remote that was wired to the device you straddled on, the machine vibrating at such speeds, stimulating the toy inside of you that it nearly sent you doubling over with bliss. It would have been an easier position to stay in anyway had your arms been free, but instead, the Anthropologist had them comfortably tied back, making it, to your (dis)pleasure, easier to remain upright on the toy.

Your back arched back some as he upped the speed for a moment, a way to tease you as let out a small gasp between pleasured breaths. You composed yourself, glaring up at him.

“I-I hope you’re enjoying yourself!” you spat. Despite his mask, you could see that his eyes curved in such a shit-eating-grin way.

“Oh, I don’t think you should be speaking like that…” Korekiyo knelt down, meeting your trembling height. “I mean look at you…Hips rocking, cock twitching…” Extending a hand, one of Korekiyo’s gloved fingers slowly traced down along your shaft, glossing over the small egg vibrator toy that was delicately taped into position before stopping at the cock ring that decorated the base of your shaft and kept you from expelling any seed without his order. “Do not think I’m unaware of your actions, my sweet prince. You desire this as much as I do.”

“T-The hell are you going—ah~—o-on about?”

You could see his mask wrinkle from his lips smirking underneath. “I’ve heard you at night. As I walk by your dorm, you may think you’re quiet, yet I still heard the soft uttering of your desire, your desire to let loose all inhibitions and control and have someone ravish you to no end~”

You tried to recall what exactly he was talking about, but soon you remembered the nights that the stress overtook you. After all, being in a killing game was no relaxing feat; knowing you could die at any point, how you had to be wary around everyone, peek around every corner. This wasn’t living, and you found out that the fantasy of someone topping you was the best way to deal with that stress when you got your hands on a simple dildo you got from the casino, which you tried not to question.

“Your gentle begging for whatever you were using to go harder was so adorable~ How could I pass by the opportunity to assist someone knowing my knowledge of pleasure?” Sparing you a moment, he turned the machine off, earning a whine from you as you panted softly.

“So…y-you wait around like some creep…”

“Quite the opposite…” As he spoke, Korekiyo fished around in his pocket after putting the sybian’s controller in one hand. “I wait for needy little sluts like you to come to me asking for assistance~”

Before you could give a snarky response back, a button was clicked and vibrations emitted from the egg toy on your cock, earning Korekiyo a sweet moan from you as you ground your hips against the sybian’s insert.

Yes you came to him for help, but you had written it on a note, too stubborn(or embarrassed) to say it into words. That’s how you ended up here after all, but you were too blissed out to full remember that by this point.

“K-Korekiyo…~! Stop this…d-device at once! I swear I’ll have your he—a-ahh~!!”

The sybian activated at high speeds before you could finish your threat, immediately silencing you. Your mind nearly went blank trying to process both toys at once, but your body would take care of that for you, rocking your hips to gain the friction of the insert within you while your cock twitched from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Oh none of that now, dear. Why don’t you just be a good boy and moan for me. Maybe even beg me to cum while you’re at it. Unless you still want to be a brat~”

Waves of ecstasy clouded any form of thought, your moans soon being the only thing you could hear amongst all the other sounds. This was pure bliss, a fantasy come true, and with that in mind you were quick to crumble.

“K-Korekiyo…~ K-Kiyo~!!”

If you could bounce along this thing you would, wishing you could feel the stretching of something moving deep within you and using that pretty asshole of yours.

“Yes, dear? What is it~?”

“W-Wanna cum…p-please! P-Please let me cum!”

“Oh…the prince wants to cum…how pathetic~” He first turned the sybian up before following through with the egg, both devices loudly vibrating into the air and causing you to shriek from the overwhelming stimulation. “After your behavior, maybe you should just sit there and think about what you’ve done…”

“N-No!!” You begged, rapidly shaking your head. Your eyes were wide, wet with tears pricking the corners as you panted heavily. “P-Please! I’m—I’m sorry, Kiyo! P-Please just let me cum! I-I’ll behave I promise!”

Without a word, Korekiyo knelt down to the cock ring, his hand hovering over the object as he chuckled from your pathetic whimpering and silent begging. He had to first admire your trembling form before unclasping the ring, warmth rushing from your shaft to your body as you released your seed with a silent scream. Your back arched back to a concerning degree, but luckily for you, that’s where Korekiyo moved to to avoid being dirtied by your release, holding you steady to ride out your high before slowly turning off the machines.

He chuckled lowly as your body went slack, chest shallowly rising as you attempted to catch your breath. Through his mask, he kissed your forehead, his thumb running over your cheek, relishing the way your spent body appeared after the session.

“That’s my good boy~”

[terrarain]

seasons of love

characters: todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, takami keigo

summary: four seasons, four guys. different drabbles based on the season.

notes: reader's pronouns unspecified, swearing, it's entirely fluff! mentions of a reader with a pollen allergy in keigo's, some possessiveness in bakugou's for like one line, ticklish reader in shinsou's

word count: 4.5k

ˏˋ°•*⁀☂️ spring; takami keigo

Keigo didn't see much appeal in the rainy showers that May would bring. The rain had an unpleasant tendency to wash away traces of villain activity; it was a criminal's best friend. Activity in the streets were always lower when it was raining. People weren't as alert.

So he doesn't really get it when you're tugging at his sleeve with a cute pout that. As he stares at your jutted out lip, he has the oddest desire to bite it.

"Please. It'll be fun."

"Alright, consider me convinced, birdie."

All you had to do was say please with wide eyes and pouty lips and he was done for. Keigo's sure that Miruko would laugh her ass off at how easily Keigo acquiesced to all of your requests. Good thing for him, then, that the rabbit hero was nowhere to be seen.

And so that's the explanation behind why Keigo, the number two hero Hawks who was currently on a break, is currently walking next to you. In one hand, he's holding a well-loved umbrella and his other hand...

Golden eyes linger on the free hand at your side, swinging forward and back as you practically skip along the rain-washed sidewalk.

The hand that's not holding the umbrella twitches.

"You really like the rain."

"It's the best part about spring."

The beaming smile that you send his way makes Keigo feel all melty inside with affection. A part of him is glad that his wings have been reduced to just a few feathers at the moment. He has a feeling that, if his wings had been full, they'd be puffing up an embarrassing amount right about now.

He cocks his head to the side slightly. "Not the flowers?"

"The flowers are nice, too. But they make my allergies act up and those aren't much fun."

Keigo recalls memories of you in past springs, nose all runny and red, eyes slightly teary.

"But you're cute when you're sniffling," he teases, trying for a flirty smile. You just roll your eyes playfully.

"You won't be saying that when I'm constantly blowing snot into tissues."

You'd still be cute in his eyes. He's seen you a snotty mess before, when you got sick one time, and Keigo couldn't help but think that you looked stunning.

"You look beautiful all the time."

"Yeah, yeah, you flirt," you laugh, unconvinced.

Shit, he thinks distantly. I'm down real bad.

Keigo hadn't been saying that just to flatter you. He really did think that you were the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. Anybody who said otherwise was just wrong. They'd have to be blind to not recognize your beauty.

"Seriously," he insists. A flush takes over your cheeks, faint but still there. Keigo smiles to himself.

"Anyways," you fluster, walking a bit faster. He quickens his pace as well, careful to make sure that the umbrella that he was sharing with you was still covering you. He could feel his shoulder getting a little wet, but he didn't really care.

"So," Keigo drawls, one bushy brow raised. "Didja drag me out into the rain just so we could walk? I know I'm irresistible," an eyeroll from you, "...and that you want to spend more time with me, but we could just hang out at your apartment like usual."

"You're such a homebody," you muse. "Who knew that the flashy, number two winged hero Hawks is a shut-in."

"Hey," he says, not all that offended. "Your place s'real comfy."

And nobody expects anything of him when he's in the comfort of your well-lived in home. He's just Takami Keigo in private, cracking jokes and play-wrestling with you. Just another average joe who's hanging out with the love of his life a friend.

" 'sides," Keigo continues, looking over to you quickly. "I'm out here with you, aren't I? Even though I have no clue what you're up to."

"Oh, I never told you, huh?" you muse. The look in your eyes is playful, almost childlike.

"What schemes are you cooking up in that pretty little head of yours?" he questions, eyes slightly narrowed. He moves up a bit more to walk next to you when he sees a car approaching from behind. There's no puddles for the car to splash the two of you with, but better safe than sorry.

"You said that you've never played in the rain," is your non-answer.

Keigo does faintly recall telling you this. It had been a while ago, if he's remembering things correctly. You were working your magic in the kitchen while he was sitting at the counter as he watched when he had let this bit of information slip.

Ah, he realizes. "That's what all this fuss is about?"

"You're missing out," you insist when you hear his perplexed tone. "Right now, it's raining. And you're on break. So... now's a great time to take you out."

Keigo almost makes a joke about you taking him out in a different context — for a date.

The joke doesn't come. Instead, he just says: "Chickadee, I've flown through the rain. You're actin' like this is my first rodeo out in the rain."

You let out a little (cute) frustrated huff, eyes narrowing. Your arms cross as you speak. "Put the umbrella aside. We're going puddle jumping."

Keigo cocks a brow in questioning, "Uh, you sure? You'll get—"

"—wet?" you interrupt him as you bring the hood of your raincoat over your head. "That's what the coats are for."

"If you say so," he says, giving up easily enough as he brings the hood of his own raincoat up before closing the umbrella. Keigo really can't say no to you.

The two of you stand there under the rain. It's not particularly harsh, but it's definitely not a light drizzle, either. A scarlet red feather flies up to carry the umbrella that he sets to the side.

"So, what now, professor?" Keigo says, grinning. "Please do teach me about the joys of rainy weather."

"Gladly," you say as you offer him a hand. It only takes a nanosecond before his hand is in yours, his gaze expectant. The raindrops that fall onto the exposed skin are cool.

You tug at his hand, gentle, and he follows behind you like a lost puppy. Keigo finds himself feeling glad that there's nobody out at the moment — that there's nobody to disturb this moment between the two of you.

"Just gotta find..." you trail off, eyes scanning up ahead for something. Eventually, your aimless wandering becomes directed as you let out a small 'aha!'.

You're leading him towards a recently formed, sizeable puddle on the sidewalk.

"Are we going to—"

"Yes."

"Chickadee, we'll be soaked."

"Didn't take you to be such a party pooper," you tease, stopping right at the edge of the puddle as you look over to him.

Keigo gasps, offended. "Me? A party pooper? Why, I oughta—"

You don't wait for him to finish that sentence, jumping into the puddle in front of him with a lot more force than he thinks is necessary. The water comes up and out of reflex, his arms rise in a futile defense against the liquid.

"You were saying?"

"You are so cheeky," Keigo says fondly before he joins you in the puddle, jumping into the rainwater just as a child would.

He hears you let out a little squeal as water flies up towards you and Keigo grins, kicking some water at you as a form of payback.

"That's cold," you giggle, eyes bright.

"I said it'd be cold earlier while you were trying to drag me out," Keigo replies, letting you tug him out of the puddle as you begin searching for another puddle to jump into.

"Worth it," you declare.

He tilts his head curiously. "You're having that much fun?"

Your reply catches him off guard and he almost stumbles.

"It got you smiling again," you say easily, turning around a corner. Your face lights up when you see another untouched puddle. "Not one of those safe smiles. A smile smile."

"A smile smile," he echoes with vague amusement. His heart is fluttering and his cheeks are warming. Keigo, pointedly, does not acknowledge it. "Your descriptions could use some work."

"Oh, please, you get the point," you grin. "Now, come and help me ruin our jackets and boots more, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," Keigo says, joining you in your adventures into the puddle of water while he thinks,

Maybe the rain isn't all bad after all.

ˏˋ°•*⁀☀️ summer; todoroki shouto

"Thank you! Come back again!"

Shouto one perfectly-shaped brow slightly as he glances over to you. You're waving to the person leaving with a sunny smile. In the sky, the sun had already started lowering.

"Are you doing this again tomorrow?" he questions. The hand that's waving stills momentarily before dropping back down to the table of the stand he sat at with you.

You lick your lips. On the table, you're twisting your fingers - Shouto recognizes it as one of your nervous habits.

"Um... well, you don't have to, if you don't want to."

Shouto shifts, gaze briefly flickering over to the bucket of icecream surrounded in his ice. He repeats his question, slightly reworded this time.

"Do you want to do this again tomorrow?"

Your eyes, Shouto thinks as he returns your stare, are something that he could gaze at for hours upon hours on end.

"I do," you admit, lips upturned in a shy smile. "Are you... free tomorrow?"

Shouto's hums as he leans forward a little towards you, chin in the palm of his hand. The darkening of your cheeks makes the smile on his face grow a touch wider. "I am, indeed, free tomorrow. I presume you will be enlisting my assistance as a personal cooler again?"

The little laugh that slips through your lips is light and breathless as you nod. "Mmhm. Really, thanks again for this, Todoroki."

"It's no problem," he says, and it really isn't. Although the request had been an odd one, he didn't particularly mind.

The request in question had been related to ice cream carts - which, to his understanding, are portable stands that sell ice cream. You had told him that you'd wanted to run one - but didn't have the money to rent one out. Shouto had been on the verge of offering to rent one for you when you had eagerly tugged him over to a makeshift stand.

"So, I decided to make my own!" you had told him a few hours ago. Your previously eager smile had turned sheepish when you made a request. "But I don't really have anything to keep the ice cream cool in the heat, so I.. I was wondering if you would be willing to be a cooler? You'll get half of the money the stand makes!"

Shouto would've provided his assistance regardless of whether or not you were paying him. He had said as much, but you insisted on paying him anyways.

"You're really sure you don't have anything else to do?" you question, frowning in concern. "It can't be that fun for you, sitting around at a table in the heat for most of the day."

"The heat doesn't really affect me," he says smoothly, smiling warmly as he looks at you. "And I think it's quite enjoyable. You're very good company."

"Oh-" you clear your throat, all flushed cheeks and giddy smiles. "You're good company, too, Todoroki."

His lips downturn. "Shouto."

The look you send him can only be described as bewildered.

"Call me Shouto," he clarifies. "We are close enough for you to refer to me as such, no?"

He tilts his head when you stare at him with wide eyes.

"Then - you can call me by my given name, too," you say shyly. When he says your name out loud, you nod slightly. "That's me!"

You then shuffle a little, turning to reach for the bag of ice cream cones. He watches with rapt attention as you scrape out the last remaining bits of ice cream in the bucket and drop it onto the cone. He retracts the ice he had around the bucket, seeing as there was no ice cream left to keep cool.

"You should have it." you say after watching him. When he looks at you, you're holding the cone out for him.

Shouto shakes his head. "It's alright. You can have it."

"Shouto," you huff. "Really, you should have it instead. You've been entertaining my whims 'n whatnot the entire day, so.."

The usage of his name has him hesitating; he wonders if you'll say his name again if he keeps refusing. The small pout on your face discourages him from that, though, and he decides to opt for a compromise.

He leans in to take a bite of the ice cream in front of you. Vanilla melts a little on his tongue before he swallows the bite, the coolness of the treat lingering. When Shouto pulls back, he observes your flustered expression with some amusement.

"There," he says simply. "I've had my fill. You can have the rest."

You open your mouth to protest and he just raises a brow in a silent question. He seems to conveyed his message well, because you bring the cone to your lips and take a small bite as you look away from him. Shouto gently pokes at your flushed cheeks, eliciting a giggle.

The smile on his face is fond. Shouto doesn't really have a favourite season - he didn't see a reason to have a favourite.

But, as the sun sets in the distance, last few rays of sunlight framing you in a picturesque scene as you finish off the ice cream cone in your hand - Shouto thinks that if he had to pick one season as his favourite, it would be summer.

ˏˋ°•*⁀🍁 autumn; bakugou katsuki

Katsuki doesn't indulge people. He doesn't entertain their whims. He gives absolutely zero fucks about the desires of other people.

(A lie, sort of. Katsuki is just a little soft towards his closest friends and he lets himself get dragged into their antics sometimes. But he would never openly admit that.)

That's what he says. That's what he told you, more or less, when you had thrown his coat at him and pushed him out the door of the dormitory. Which he let you do because he's particularly soft towards you.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud," you tease him with a playful grin. His expressions sours even further, which earns him the action of you poking him in the forehead with one finger. "You'll get wrinkles early if you keep frowning so hard."

"Stuff it," he says heatedly as he swats your hand away. It's an action that he immediately regrets, but his body doesn't relax in the slightest.

You don't seem to mind, laughing good-naturedly, which pisses him the fuck off because you should mind. He treats you so roughly and it's unwarranted, he thinks. Katsuki knows that he's an asshole and he knows he's far from being a nice person.

You should be treated kindly. Should be hanging out with someone just as bright and sunny as you.

But at the same time, he doesn't want you to do that. It's an unreasonable possessiveness, he thinks, because you're not even his. You don't belong to anyone.

Katsuki has no idea why you still hang out with him.

You're all soft touches, kind smiles, playful quips — and he's rough around the edges. He's a horrible person and he's done fucked up shit in the past that he regrets so, so deeply and he doesn't get you. Or any of the things he feels for you.

You're more resilient than he would've ever thought — because while you were all soft and shit, you knew when to stand up for yourself and you never let yourself be pushed around. You're firm with him and handle yourself well around him. Something about you, terrifyingly enough, disarms him.

His classmates — friends, they call themselves — are also weirdly eager to be around him, just like you. They actively insert themselves into his life and include him in their playful banter.

But you hang out with him the most. Some people have commented on it, in the past. He had just replied to them with a dark glare.

"Alright, this is a good spot!"

Katsuki cocks his head to the side, brows still furrowed. "Hah? Whaddya mean?"

The two of you are standing in a fairly open space, a few ways away from the dormitories. It's a clear part of campus with several trees hanging overhead.

"Pretty, isn't it?" you say, not answering his question at all. Your gaze is directed upwards, so he follows. Golden yellows, crimson reds, vibrant oranges act as a natural ceiling. Bits of the blue sky are peeking through.

"The fuck we standing here for?" he asks, all gruff as he looks back at you.

In one smooth motion, you pull out two rakes and what the fuck.

"Where the hell were you hiding those?"

"Trade secret," is your playful response as you press a rake to his chest. He grabs it out of reflex more than anything. "Less questioning, more raking."

"Hah? What's this shit even for?"

There's a glint in your eyes as you reply.

"Raking leaves," you state the obvious and he rolls his eyes. "We're making leaf piles to jump in."

"That shit's for kids," he grumbles, unmoving as he watches you fly around the leaf-covered ground, starting up a small pile of multi-coloured leaves.

"You're basically just a big baby," you coo and his glare sharpen. You don't seem to react because you're somehow never affected. "So I don't see the problem."

"That's—" he flounders, eventually deciding on a snarl. "Listen up. I'm not fucking making fucking dumb piles of fucking leaves just so you can fucking jump into them."

"Is fuck the only swear you know?" you question. You're teasing him.

He glowers.

"This is unfortunate," you sigh dramatically. He watches you carefully as you pause, looking down at the pile of leaves at your feet with a forlorn expression. "I didn't think that the Bakugou Katsuki would be so terrified of a few leaves. Guess I need to go get someone stronger to help me out."

Katsuki knows that you're trying to get him to rake leaves. He knows that you're poking at his ego and it's ridiculous because there's absolutely no reason for him to get competitive over a few fuc- shitty leaves. It's dumb, really—

"Fuck you," he spits as he starts raking up a pile of his own at record pace. Katsuki misses the painfully soft smile on your face, more focused on making his pile bigger than yours.

For a few minutes, it's just the sound of two students romping around and the scraping of the steel rakes against the ground that fills the air. Eventually, Katsuki comes to a halt when there's no more leaves in the immediate vicinity. He considers going out further to get more leaves for his pile.

"Damn," you whistle and his chest swells a little in pride at your impressed voice. "That is a big pile of leaves. I surrender."

"Ha. Did you think you could beat me to begin with?"

You snort, hand wrapping around his wrist. He can feel the sweat forming on the palms of his hands and he thinks that, if the lightning dumbass was around, he'd be making so much fun of Katsuki for the sweaty hands.

Katsuki has a few swears lined up, but none of them manage to leave his mouth because you're tugging him along.

Straight towards his pile of leaves.

(He could probably plant his feet firmly in the ground, making all of your attempts at moving him around futile.)

(He doesn't.)

Katsuki is stumbling into the mountain of leaves along with you as you destroy all of his hard work with a jump.

He's a little worried that you'll hit your head against something and before he knows it, one of his hands are resting against the back of your head as the two of you lay down on the ground.

The smile on your face makes him feel all soft and gooey and shit inside.

"Look," you say, and he glances up at the sky briefly as per your request. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Leaves are fluttering down gently around the two of you, warm tones unique only to autumn painting the air. It really is a sight to behold, he thinks, as he looks at your content expression.

The leaves eventually settle and you take it as your cue to stand back up. Katsuki looks at the hand that had been previously cradling the back of your head before he stands up roughly a second after you.

There's a golden leaf in your hair.

Without thinking, he reaches out slowly to pluck the leaf from your hair in one, easy motion.

"..Bakugou?"

"You had a leaf in your hair," he grumbles, flicking it off to the side. "Dumbass."

"That's mean," you say, but the smile resting upon your face with darkened cheeks makes him feel like you aren't so offended. Katsuki thinks he likes the way you look when blushing. "Round two?"

"Your pile is still there," he huffs. "Whaddya mean by round two?"

"But it's small," you lament, gazing upon your small pile of leaves. It definitely pales in comparison to the tower of leaves that Katsuki had cooked up earlier. "It'll be a lot more fun if it's bigger. Let's collect all of the leaves up into one big pile."

"This is dumb," he says, lips turning upwards in a slight smile.

"But it's fun!" you beam.

"...Whatever," he breathes out, turning away brusquely to hide his growing smile.

Katsuki's chest feels warm as he shoves a small bunch of leaves into the growing leaf pile.

ˏˋ°•*⁀❄️ winter; shinsou hitoshi

"Fuck, don't go in there. Are you a dumbass?"

Hitoshi shifts slightly. "Probably."

In all honesty, Hitoshi has no idea what's going on in the horror movie that you had put on.

There's some screaming, probably some ghosts or something - was the movie a ghost movie? He couldn't remember - which was all very cool. Probably. But he's more interested in you.

His best friend. That he's fallen irrevocably in love with.

You take a sip from your mug of hot cocoa, eyes watching the laptop screen with rapt attention. There's some sort of noise that comes from the screen that draws his own attention over. A rather ghastly, pale creature shows up behind the movie's protagonist.

"I told you so," you mutter, like the protagonist could hear you.

"Damn, someone doesn't leave the house," Hitoshi comments off-handedly, referring to the unnaturally pale, spindly creature currently chasing after the main character.

That draws a snort from you. A sound that has him wanting to poke at you so he can hear it again.

"Like you're one to talk, 'Toshi."

Now that has him actually poking at your sides. He takes the hot cocoa out of your hand and sets it down on his desk before he starts jabbing his fingers into your sides.

You break down into a mess of airy giggles as you try to pry his hands off of you and he grins.

"Hey. My complexion is way better than that thing."

"I don't know," comes your drawl once he stops tickling you, gazing up at him with an impish grin. "When was the last time you left the house and touched some grass?"

"There's no grass to touch," Hitoshi says, getting off of you to gesture at his window. Outside, a flurry of white storms on. "There's a fucking snowstorm. Its been snowing like crazy the last few weeks. Any grass out there is long-gone."

"Sounds like excuses to me," you chirp, settling back into your sitting position on his bed. He can't help but note that you're a lot closer this time. If he moves as much as an inch, his legs would bump into yours.

Hitoshi counts to three to calm himself down.

His heart beats thunderously against his chest anyways.

"Oh, she's definitely dead," you say, interrupting his thoughts. He raises a brow and turns his attention to the screen of your laptop.

Sure enough, there's a gory mess of fake blood and organs and a lot of screaming from the girl.

"You don't say," he drawls as the screams die down. You smack his arm playfully.

"Hush."

"Technically, you're the one who keeps initiating conversation," he snarks.

The smile on your face grows and he allows himself to think that you're smiling at him fondly. "Smartass."

"You know it and you love it."

Silence.

Hitoshi panics. What did he say, again? He definitely said the l-word. He hadn't been thinking. What did you think? You had suddenly gone silent and-

"That, I do," is your whispered response.

His body locks up and he just stares at you, but you aren't looking at him. Your gaze is resolutely fixed on the screen, acting all nonchalant - but he catches the darkened hue of your cheeks.

He smiles softly and turns his attention over to the screen, half-watching.

The scene had moved on from the girl's death. There was some arguing amongst people in a dingy little room. The only safe room in the house, if he recalled correctly.

Something to his side shifts and then he feels a warmth pressed up against him. His reaction is immediate, head snapping over to you.

"It's cold," is all you offer for an explanation, drawing the shared blanket closer to you.

The heating system had broken down a while ago, so the two of you had opted to share a blanket. It was a large blanket — big enough for two people to share without ever having to touch the other. He figures it could probably fit three.

Hitoshi continues to stare.

"You're always warm," you clear your throat, pulling your end of the blanket up around you to hide your flushed cheeks.

"What am I, your personal heater?" he manages to joke, trying to ignore the heat creeping up the back of his neck.

"Yes," you declare simply.

He rolls his eyes fondly. Boldly, he slowly snakes an arm around your waist to pull you closer against him.

For the body heat, he clarifies to himself.

There's no protest from your end, so he assumes he's in the clear. If anything, you're snuggling up against him and fuck if it isn't the cutest thing ever. It's getting harder to resist the urge to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"We should do this more."

Your voice comes out quiet, tentative. Hitoshi licks his lips as he hums nervously.

"What, cuddling?" he says, half-joking.

"Yes," you say, completely serious.

Oh, fuck me.

"It's not annoying, is it?" you question, a bit of hesitation flickering about in your gaze.

"No," Hitoshi replies immediately, arm around your waist tightening a little. "Nah, 's fine."

The hum he hears from you is happy as you turn your attention back to the movie. The horror movie you had put on was just background noise to Hitoshi as he relaxes into you.

And if the two of you don't move from your positions long after the movie ends, well — that's only for you and him to know.

a/n: still not super comfy with how i write bakugou gAH i want to do the boy some justice bc he's got a lot going on,,, hopefully i'll get it with time

[skizz00rz]

Trafalgar Law x Reader - Petty Activities

Erm, kinda OOC Trafalgar Law, I just think he is silly. I am also ngl, I haven't gone past the marine ford arc, so forgive me if I did not do him justice.

You swear He looks pissed. Well, he always looks pissed, but he looked especially mad now. What had you done, you wondered. You tried to recall what could have made the Trafalgar Law so angry, to the point he would glare at you and give you attitude. He would not ignore you, as to say. But he was definitely affected by his sour mood. Hiding your shoes, bumping into you on purpose, and even getting you the wrong drink. It was starting to upset you, him acting like such a child. But what tipped you to confront him was when the whole crew got together to celebrate, straw hat crew included, yet he completely ignored you. He had never really done anything like this before, but enough was enough.

-

Seeing as he was conversing with Robin, someone he considered close and trustworthy, you knew he could not be that angry. "Trafalgar D. Law!" you whispered angrily, grabbing at his wrist. He gave you a confused look. "Y/N-Ya, what are you doing?" she looked up at him angrily, dragging him away from the conversation. Robin just laughed and waved goodbye. As soon as privacy was given, she pushed him against the wall, maintaining eye contact with him. "You want to explain WHY you're acting like a child?? Ignoring me, hiding my things, what are you doing? What did I-" "There is nothing going on." he interrupted you. "Then what is it with all this behavior? You're acting like I wronged you in some way??" he went silent, trying to find it in his voice to explain. "You.." he began. "You were so close to Luffy-Ya. You were laughing with him and he even had his arm around your neck! You think I would not notice?" he began making a sour face. Was he..jealous!? The thought of that had your face drop and you immediately let go. "I am not into Luffy like that I- Law!" you exclaimed embarrassingly. "How could you go assuming things without even asking, dumbass! I thought I seriously fucked up." you let out a sigh of relief. "Sorry, Y/N-ya. I just-" "It's fine. I am sorry too. I should have snaked his arm off. I did not realize it would make you act like a child, however." You teased. You were so relieved it was something so small, but you couldn't help but smile. Law looked away in embarrassment, however. He was pretty much apologetic all night long, saying he would make it up to you. And boy, his apologies would keep you up all night.

[gilverrwrites]

★ Daddy's pornstar ★

Black Mask/Wayne!Reader, 4.8K AN: Based on, (but not 1:1) on this ask! It just activated something in my brain and I had to put it into words. I could kiss you anon! FYI, he's (partly) maskless in this one, just because I felt like shaking things up a bit. Warnings: Roman being absolutely foul, he’s a warning all of his own. Swearing, blackmail, dub-con, insults/name-calling, spit, ass to mouth but barely, spanking, choking, verbal degradation, unprotected sex, manipulation, lying, gratuitous daddy kink. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Excerpt: “Don’t look so glum, doll. You’re gorgeous.” Roman's gravelly voice is thick with conceitedness. More than usual. He’s seated just to the side of the camera, smiling at you like he’s the cat and you’re the cream between puffs of a cigarette. His eyes shamelessly rake across your body. “If you ever wanted to get out from your father’s shadow, you could make a killing in the adult industry.” “Please, I don’t want to talk about him right now.” You don’t even want to think about him. Not just because it’s a figurative boner killer, but because he’d be so angry, so disappointed in you and your actions. You stare at the blinking red light of the camera as you try not to recall the destructive series of events that had led you here. The reckless, downright stupid behaviour that had handed Roman the ammunition to bend you to his will. “Alright. I’ll be your daddy tonight.”

Selina had told you once, after helping your father take down an infamous Gotham-based trafficking ring that the little spiel adult actors give at the beginning of pornos was often complete bullshit. When Cherry Rose or Missy Sin said, “I’m of sound body and mind, and I consent to everything I’m about to do.” they were fucking themselves, metaphorically and literally. That as soon as those words were caught on tape, sketchy cast and crews could use it as a free pass to do whatever they wanted to those performers without repercussions.

That fact, while upsetting, hadn’t really solidified in your head until you were staring down the lens of a Panasonic camcorder, barely faking a smile as you made the very same speech, wondering how many pornstars had been blackmailed or otherwise under duress from the start.

“Don’t look so glum, doll. You’re gorgeous.” Roman's gravelly voice is thick with conceitedness. More than usual. He’s seated just to the side of the camera, smiling at you like he’s the cat and you’re the cream between puffs of a cigarette. His eyes shamelessly rake across your body. It’s not clear if he’s appreciative of you in general or of the sheer, feather-hemmed lingerie he’d picked out for you. It’s exactly the kind of thing you’d expect to find on the body of an heiress gone wild in the pages of an 80s Playboy magazine; cute but still a humiliating mockery of the rich kid archetype the media so loves to sexualise. From the shade of pink that compliments your skin tone perfectly, to the way it tastefully clashes with the bedspread, you're pretty certain Roman has put a lot of thought and planning into this whole production. “If you ever wanted to get out from your father’s shadow, you could make a killing in the adult industry.”

“Please, I don’t want to talk about him right now.” You don’t even want to think about him. Not just because it’s a figurative boner killer, but because he’d be so angry, so disappointed in you and your actions. You stare at the blinking red light of the camera as you try not to recall the destructive series of events that had led you here. The reckless, downright stupid behaviour that had handed Roman the ammunition to bend you to his will.

“Alright.” His smile twists then, into something wicked and you will the heat growing in your stomach to cool. “I’ll be your daddy tonight.”

The suggestion simultaneously makes your skin crawl, and your hair stand on edge. You fight the lurch in your chest by scrunching up your face and glowering at his mask on the bedside table. It’s easier to be repelled by him when he’s Black Mask. He’s not really a person, he’s a symbol, a deity to all that’s wrong with Gotham and its seedy underworld. He laughs aloud, low and throaty, clearly enjoying your visible discomfort. God, you hate him. You hate his laugh. You hate his olive skin. His empty black eyes, his salt and pepper hair, the way he smells so good like sugar and spice and smoke. You hate the way he commands a room simply by being in it. But apparently not all of your body had gotten the memo.

“Agreed?” He says sarcastically, the implication that you don’t really get a choice hangs thick in the air and you nod in reply until he fakes a cough to draw your attention back to him. “Out loud, for the camera.”

“Yes…” He quirks a brow at you, eyes fixated on the shake of your breasts as you attempt to steady your breathing. The name feels wrong on your lips, you haven’t even called your own father Daddy since you were a little girl, but you manage to bite it out. “Daddy.”

“Good girl.” It shouldn’t, but the way he drawls the pet-name makes you feel flushed. “Well, what are you waiting for? We’re rolling.”

For the first time since you’d met him here, you look at him dead on, staring dumbly, hoping for at least a little direction. You’d never done this sort of thing before; you didn’t know where to begin. And you certainly didn’t want to perform so badly that he made it an excuse to have you do it all over again. He stares back at you, head tilted, eyes wide and hungry, watching you expectantly.

“Touch yourself.” He clarifies impatiently. “Play with your tits, finger you pussy, whatever you do when you’re lying in bed alone at night, wishing somebody would fuck you the way you need.”

But you don’t want to be fucked, at least that’s the story you’re feeding yourself. You half gesture to your nether regions as you whisper. “But I’m not wet yet.”

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty, cause you’re not very bright, are you?” He states sharply, straightening his posture and biting his tongue in annoyance as he stubs out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. His patronising should piss you off, but instead you’re embarrassed. You wish you’d had something to drink before coming here. At least then you could blame your simmering arousal for his mistreatment of you on being tipsy. “Come here.”

He grabs onto your wrist, standing to tower over you as his gloved hands tug you across the bed. Much to your shock, he spit down onto your open palm, amusement palpable as he watches your shocked face.

“What’s the matter? Think you’re too good for my spit?”          

“No.” You do. You are. However, ‘no’ instinctively felt like the right thing to say.

“No? Good.” The grin on Roman’s face is pure malice, it makes your heart drop and your knees weak. “Open your mouth for me.”

When you take too long prying your dried lips apart, Roman releases your wrists in favour of gripping the back of your head, yanking you back until your mouth falls open to cry out in pain. Before you know it’s happening you feel a glob of spit hit your tongue, and suddenly your bodies desire for him finally wins. You don’t need lube anymore, your folds growing slicker with each second sat under his burning gaze. The shame of knowing he caught it all up close and personal on film only fuelling the fire in your belly. Your whole body practically boils at your indigent actions as you close your mouth and swallow.

 “Very good girl.” Roman offers his approval as he releases you, falling back to his position beside the camera.

“Thank you, Daddy.” You’re not sure where the sudden bravery comes from, but you reply cutely as you lay back on the bed once more, spreading your legs and showing the camera how your newfound wetness has started to seep through the delicate fabric. 

“Beautiful.” Roman coos, and it’s the most genuine sounding thing he’s ever said to you. The confusing mix of pride and self-loathing has you grunting in annoyance as you push your fingers under your waist band and begin to run your fingers between your folds, collecting moisture from your leaking entrance and rubbing it against your sensitive clit.

You’ve masturbated many times before, but you’ve never been able to cum from your own hands alone. Now seems a bad time to bring this up, so you channel all your energy into it, building as much friction as you can with your hands and focusing your mind on how good you feel right now. Multiple times Roman has to whistle at you, drawing your attention away from the ceiling and back to the camera as you attempt to force your climax. Each time he looks less entertained by your wandering eyes, until eventually you look over at him only to be greeted by the sight of his penis. Immediately you look away once more, gawking down the lens of the camera, no doubt looking flustered and debauched.

“It’s okay baby, you can look at it.” It’s not really a suggestion, so much as an order. Even when he’s speaking softly, he sounds dangerous, so you angle your head to the side. Watching as he idly pumps away, matching your own strokes with a now ungloved hand. “Like what you see?”

A part of you had been hoping it would be smaller, uglier, something to turn your nose up at, but by all accounts, Roman Sionis has a fucking beautiful cock. Something else you could hate him for. It’s straight, cut, a few shades darker than the rest of his skin, and just big enough to stretch you out in all the right places if you sunk low enough to let him fuck you. A thought that’s becoming more and more appealing with every brush to you heated core.

“Yes.” You strain to form words, joints twitching as you continue to play with your oversensitive, under-climaxed cunt. “Your dick is… nice.”

He chuckles at you, again. While admittedly it was not a good word choice, his constant amusement really makes it difficult to ignore the fact that this is all fun and games to him. You’re a joke, a pawn in his agenda. Damn if the sight of him, leaning back, nonchalantly jerking off over your display doesn’t make your toes curl. But it’s still not enough.

“If you hurry up and cream those pretty panties, I‘ll let you play with it.” You surprise him, and yourself by dramatically kicking your feet against the mattress.

“I can’t!” It comes out petulant and needy. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ve never been able to do it myself.”

His eyes narrow, head rolling from side to side as he processes your predicament and considers his next move.

“Sit up and look into the camera.” He eventually instructs, standing up himself to get a good look at you through the viewfinder. “Ask daddy real nicely to help you cum, and I might fuck you with my fingers.”

You can feel his eyes glowering into you through the camera as you hesitate. Deliberating whether you’re really going to beg Black Mask to get you off as you follow his command. The moment your fingers seize movement you feel lost. Yes. If it’s the only way to sooth your desires, then yes, you’re going to swallow your pride and beg him.

“Please daddy.” His eyes don’t leave the screen as he bites down on the tip of his remaining glove to remove it, nor when he loosens his tie and undoes the top button of his shirt. “I need you, please make me cum.”

“I think you can do better.” His hard-on would disagree, but you’re in no position to point that out. “Roll over, put your ass up for the camera and keep begging for me baby.”

Somehow, having your entire sex front and centre for the camera, hardly concealed by your see-through panties feels a thousand times more exposing than anything you’ve done do far.

“Please.” Your voice grows smaller, but Roman is having none of it.

“Louder.”

“Please fill me with your finger, Daddy.” You start again, willing yourself to speak as loudly as possible. Calling him daddy feels less and less forced each time it rolls off your tongue. “Please, please, please. I’ll do anything.”

Even in your current state, the irony of your last statement isn’t lost on you. Regardless, it has the desired effect. You wait with bated breath, listening to each footfall as Roman deliberately drags his feet across the carpet until he’s stood behind you, completely out of the cameras view you presume but for his hands which come up to cup your ass. You can’t help but moan as he digs his nails into the fat of your cheeks and makes of show of jiggling them.

“Barely even touched you and you’re already cryin’ out like you’re in heat.” He comments, smug as he hooks his fingers in your underwear and works them down your thighs. He teases you by running his pointer finger lightly across your slit, void of any pressure, before delivering an unexpected slap to your cheek. Your legs flinch, another pathetic whine escaping you in reaction, but ultimately it only adds to your pent-up frustration. Only makes you want him more. “You act so prim and proper, but I always knew what you were.”

“What- ” Your question is silenced as Roman finally sinks two fingers between your pussylips, lazily brushing them against your clit in circular motions. It already feels so much better than you’d accomplished alone. You’re so caught up in the feeling that you no longer care about your rapidly deteriorating dignity when he uses his thumbs to pull apart your lips, showing off your dripping entrance, wolf-whistling as he gives the camera the money shot.

“So fuckin’ wet.” Despite his statement, Roman hawks another bead of spit onto it before sliding two more fingers in without resistance. “D’you know what this is?”

“It’s my pussy, daddy.” You answer earnestly, eyes rolling back at the feel of him plunging inside you.

“That’s right baby.” He purrs. “Your pussy. The pussy of a cock hungry slut.”

“Or maybe it’s mine.” He continues, unapologetically shoving his long fingers in and out of your cunt at a demanding pace. All the while his other hand strokes your clit. The wet squelch that emanates with every touch makes you feel so lewd. You squeeze your eyes shut, holding back hot tears of humiliation and desperation as Roman easily brings you closer and closer to the edge. “Maybe I’ll claim it. Maybe I’ll put my nice dick in there and pump you full of daddy’s cum.”

“Fuck!” You can’t think straight, the only thing on your mind is how fucking good this feels. How much better it would feel to have Roman’s cock pulsing inside you. A damp slapping sound begins to ring throughout the room. You realise quickly that it’s your slit, smacking against Romans hands as you subconsciously rock back onto them, matching his rhythm.

“Is that what you want baby? D’you want to give daddy your pussy?” He growls, perfectly in time with the eruption of your orgasm.

“Yes, it’s your pussy, Daddy. Take it, take my pussy.” The words roll off your tongue completely uninhibited. You’ve no capacity to censor yourself, to think for yourself as shockwaves roll through every vein and nerve of your body. “I want your cock, Roman. I want your cum. Please ruin me.”

Roman lets you ride it out, holding still while you grind against him until you come to a complete stop, quietly panting into the comforter until he’s satisfied that you’re done. Then before you know what’s happening, he rips his hands back and delivers a series of rapid strikes to your ass. Harder than the previous one, sure to leave a mark.

“What’s. My. Name. Bitch?” He bites between each hit. “Whose. Your. Fuckin’. Daddy?”

The sudden change in pace has you reeling and scrambling to pull away, but Roman follows until you surrender. “Daddy! You’re my daddy!”

“And don’t you fuckin forget it.” It’s absolutely an order, bitter and laced with scathing levels supressed rage. A reminder of who he is and that he’s calling the shots right now. “Get up here.”

As soon as you’re in range to be gripped without roaming too far into frame, Roman locks his hands around you, manhandling you until your back is to his chest. His hand is around your throat, squeezing just tight enough to restrict but not stop your breathing as he threads a finger between your ass cheeks, poking at the rim of your hole. For a second, he cinches his grip on your neck, causing another tear to roll down your face, adding another streak of mascara to the dried marks from your finger fucking.

“Call my name one more time baby, and I won’t just ruin your pussy.” To emphasis his point, he bullies the tip of his finger inside, grinning when you whinge at the dry, hot pain. “And trust me, no amount of spit is gonna help you then. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.” He pulls his fingers back from your ass, your sigh of relief cut off by his stiffening grip on your windpipe once more. Instead, you let out a pathetic mix of sputtering and moaning. You deliberately try to stay limp for him, obedient, but when he brings the fingers he’d been fucking you with to your mouth your muscles automatically tense. His warm digits pass your lips, and he brushes his musty fingers on your tongue, forcing you to taste the bittersweetness of both holes. You instinctively try to protest but all that comes out again is weak gasp and strings of drool.

“You like how you taste?” He mocks. “Like being choked?”

If you say yes, he might do it more. If you say no, he’ll definitely do it more, so you hedge your bets and nod for him, coughing out a sad little “yes” around his finger.

“Fuckin’ whore.” That infuriating laugh, again. This time more to himself than to you as he releases your neck and steps away from the bed. He surveys you for a moment, examining your position on the bed as you gasp for air before grabbing the tripod and moving it further down the bed.

“Get on your hands and knee, facing the camera this time.” Once you’ve caught your breath, you reposition yourself as instructed. Weary eyes watching as Roman retrieves his mask from the nightstand. The cosmetic red eyes stare you down as he crosses the room to stand behind you. The bed dips under his weight and your hazy brain finally clicks why he’d been so pissed at you for using his name. It’s not just a humiliation thing. He intended from the beginning to remain anonymous, even if the video was solely for himself.  Everybody knew Roman was Black Mask, but nobody could irrefutably prove it, a technicality that kept him out of prison.

The train of thought however is lost when Roman barks out his next instruction. “Take the bra off.”

You're way passed modesty at this point. Frankly, you're relieved to be rid of the plasticky faux feathers digging into your cleavage.

If your bare and open core had been the money shot, this would be the clickbait. A Wayne Scion stripped naked and practically presenting herself for one of Gotham's most notorious crime lords. Sure, nobody could confirm it was him, but between the voice, the suit, and the mask, it was obvious.

You’re grateful when Roman doesn’t spend much time admiring or groping at your breasts, but that gratitude is quickly swallowed by torment when he starts repeatedly thrusts his shaft into your slit, denying your cunt in favour of teasing your clit. The sensation causes you to clench around nothing. Having barely come down from your previous orgasm, your body greedily wants more.

“You should know by now what I want to hear.” Roman croons, securing a hand on your waist to keep you still as he drags the tip of his cock between your folds. He wants you to plead, and at this point you'd do anything to finally feel him inside you. “Don’t make me ask you for it.”

“Please, Daddy.” Clearly also feeling eager, Roman is quick to line himself up with your entrance, pushing in just deep enough to part your labia, but withholding any satisfaction. You let out a salacious moan, nonetheless. “Please fuck my cock hungry pussy!”

“Oh, I’m not just gonna fuck it, baby.” His cock plunges into you without resistance. He’s not overtly thick, but your walls immediately start spasming and stretching around him, hugging him tightly in all the right places. Mouth and pussy drooling for him in an instant as he begins ramming in and out of you, allowing you no time to adjust. It hurts like hell for a few moments, but the pain is so worth the pleasure. “I’m gonna ruin it. That’s what you wanted, right? Want me to pound this filthy fuckin’ cunt like nobody else ever has. You're not gonna want anyone else by the time I’m done with you.”

Every nasty word out of his mouth feels like a threat, it only adds to the sex drunk haze that fogs your mind, and he just keeps snarling. For the first time in your tenuous relationship, you hope he never shuts the fuck up.

“You fuckin’ love it.” He snaps, gripping the back of your neck to keep your head up, all the while slamming into you at a painful pace, knocking the wind out of you as you sob for the camera. “Say it. Say you fucking love being a helpless whore, split open on Daddy dick.”

Any words out of your mouth at this point are completely unintelligible at best. Broken, feeble cries at worst. You’re not even sure what you’re trying to say. Eventually you manage to muster a small “Please… please I want…”, relying on Roman’s strength as you reach for your clit. You’re so damn close, you just need that little push. “Want to cum.”

To his credit, Roman knows exactly what you’re asking for, batting your uselessly pawing hands out of the way so he can rub at your tender bud in short teasing motions, making you arch your back into him.

“You’ll cum when I cum.”

“C-cum in me.” Once again, your voice is barely a whisper, strangled by your tensing muscles, shaken with every snap of Romans hips as you selfishly beg for his release so that he’ll give you your own. “Fill my whore pussy, please, daddy.”   

Sick, loud, slapping echoes through the room as Roman hammers into you, using your body to chase his orgasm in bruising, frenzied strokes. His body shudders, breath growing hoarse as he finds it. The combined feel of fingers kneading your clit, and the heat of his seed releasing inside your guts has you tumbling straight after him.

“Take it.” The command isn’t necessary, your walls are milking him for all he’s got as your body trembles beneath him, ecstasy making every aching bone feel like putty as he ladens your sex with his seed. He just loves the sound of his own voice. “Take all of it you greedy little bitch.”

Roman’s breathing is erratic. He stays put, dick growing soft inside you for a long time as he steadies himself. As your high begins to falter you start to process the reality of what you’ve just done. Fortunately, you can find solace in the fact that it’s over.

To nobodies’ surprise, Roman is the first to talk. Finding his voice again as he finally pulls out of you.

“I was serious you know.” A chill runs along your back as he skims a finger between your swollen folds, collecting the excess of his cum. “I've got some live-in cam models over in Tail’s End. You’ve got the potential to make it big, doll.”

“No thanks.” Despite your deadpan, when he guilds your weak body up and shoves his sticky fingers in your face, you open wide, unashamedly cleaning every speck until he retracts them. You watch as he holds them up to the light, inspecting your work. Face now hidden behind his fearsome mask, you’ve no idea what he might be thinking which is probably his intent.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs, your body falling forward at the sudden weight displacement as he stands. Your legs are still like jelly, so you resolve not to move until they’re steady or he’s gone. Which ever happens first.

“I gotta head out in a minute, you know your way to the door, right?” You only nod. Quickly coming down from your post-orgasm high whilst you watch Roman making himself presentable again. Well, mostly presentable. He re-buttons his shirt, straightens his tie, and redons his gloves. There is however a wet patch on his crotch, cause by you no doubt. Dependant on where he’s going, you wouldn’t put it past him to leave it on display so he can brag about his latest lay. “Oh, some of Penguins boys are trying to move in on The Basin. Be careful if you're passing that way.”

“Why?” He got what he wanted from you. What should he care what happens to you know? Tim is currently building a case on Cobblepot. So, the only part of that statement you care about is how you’re going to feed that intel to him without revealing your source.

“I don’t want that creature puttin’ his hand on what’s mine.” What’s his? He says it so factually it’s almost laughable. Sure, he’d been a good fuck, but that wasn’t enough to keep you coming back to him. Cocky bastard.

Despite your derision, you nod, humouring him. The sooner he leaves, the better. Then you’ll rarely have to see him again. “Right.”

“Don’t clean up.” He rattles off another demands, now focused on the camera. His hands work quickly, turning it off and ejecting the memory card so fast it must be muscle memory. He’s done this sort of thing before. How many others had he extorted like this? When the memory card is tucked safely away in his wallet, Roman scoops the discarded panties from the floor, pressing them to his wooden nose and sniffing before tossing them over to you. “Put those back on. I want you to stink of your own arousal all the way home. Want you to feel all that cum inside you and know who put it there.”

You can’t hold your contempt back any longer at this point. Glaring, you scoff at him. “I’ll pass.”

“I don't think you understand the nature of our arrangement.” He snarls back. You were so close to being rid of him but now he’s doubling back to you. The permanent leer of his masks red eyes staring you down as he leans close to your supine form. “You don't get to pass.”

“My debt to you is paid.” You spit. When you make to sit up his gloved hand latches onto your jaw, muffling your speech as you try to argue with him. “Tonight was me getting straight with you.”

“Thats right.” His faux-soft tone contrasts with the demeaning drip of spit he aims onto your cheek. In retaliation you attempt to pull away, digging your nails into the thick fabric of his suit jacket to no avail. “I’ll make sure nobody in Gotham, especially that bitchboy father of yours ever finds out about your little incident.”

Rubbing in his control over you, Roman begins massaging his saliva into your skin. Seemingly trying to clean up your smudged make-up, no doubt purposefully smearing it further around your face.  

“But unless you want the contents of our little home video on the homepage of every tabloid and gossip site in the country, you'll keep doing as I say.”

The reality of the situation kicks in, and suddenly you do feel like a little girl. Roman Sionis had tricked you, he’s never intended to make things even. From the moment he’d ‘requested’ a meeting, he’d been planning on keeping you under his thumb and like the naïve child you were, and you’d fell for it, every step of the way.  

“You promised nobody would ever see it.” Your voice is small and pitiful, even to you. No doubt Roman is grinning like a fat-cat beneath his veneer.

“And if you make a liar out of me, neither of us is going to be happy.” You’re not proud of the tears the follow, releasing Roman’s arm in favour of dabbing at your eyes. Breathing deeply, you try to stop from blubbering. You’re so angry, but you don’t have the energy to fight. “Now you're getting it.”

You sit stiffly as Roman’s leather clad hand wander your face. Patting and pinching your cheeks in mock affection.

“This is a cute look. Bet your brother's fawn all over it. Personally, I just wanna stick my dick between those pouty lips.”  His words sting, they make your stomach nauseous. Your brothers would fly of the handle if they could see you know. Jason in particular would probably be more pissed than your father.

Eventually Roman releases you, and you hastily stand to start redressing yourself, but as you do his cum begins to trickle out from your still gaping cunt, and you almost retch at the feeling.

“This must be hard for you. Tell you what, why don't you stay here? Avoid the family until you've come to terms.” Continuing to parody genuine tenderness, Roman catches your wavering body and brings you close, gently wrapping you up in his arms. You can’t deny it feels nice, his warmth, his smell. Your fickle centre betrays you, growing wet once more, even as the rest of your body wants to curl up and die from your foolishness. “I've got some business to attend to, but I’ll be back in a few hours. Get some rest, and when you're good and ready we’ll test how much of daddy’s cock you can take down your throat before you start choking?”

[floydsglasses]

𝙑𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚-Jake "Hangman" Seresin (A Quiet Place AU)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x AFAB OC/Piper

SUMMARY: The world outside is in ruins, human being's are almost extinct, silence is now the key to survival. A family's seemingly happy existence in a bleak world is shattered by monsters.

Tags: Mention of blood/wounds, post apocalyptic setting, use of ASL, Alien creatures. Established Relationship, Implied Smut, (sorry) A LOT OF Angst, Swearing, Fluff, Parenting, self defense k!lling, child endangerment, men being creepy to a woman, first aid

A/N HOLY SHIT THIS IS LONG! Im telling you guy's that you wont hurt my feeling's if you dont read because I wouldn't

WORD COUNT: 9,103

⏁⏁⏁

THEIR QUIET FARMHOUSE almost seemed untouched from the horror’s of the world outside its fenceline. The both of them had talked about leading a quiet life, staying on farms raising animals and crops. Waking up to the sunshine each day and ending the day with a family meal, and falling asleep to the sound of wildlife. 

She was so sure that their late night talk would never happen. Not with the lives they lead, her working shift’s as a nurse, her hour’s never being consistent. And him almost always being on leave or another country away from her. Did not help when she took the fateful test that two pink lines showed up. 

Before the both of them did everything they could to spend time with their little girl, Piper would take every weekend off for her. Even though she and Jake were not married they would give each other day’s with her. Then day one of the end of normal happened, and they had to now fight to protect their little girl from harm more than ever. 

Today was their weekly supply run. Usually consisted of one of them staying behind and the other heavily armed packing as much as they can. Things were a little different, she had never brought Alice with her on a run, she knew she couldn't hide her from the world forever, they both knew. 

She gently pulls down a can of carrots from the supermarket shelves.  She looked down at the list in her hand, she had already gotten most of what she needed, she was bent on trying to find Alice something soft, and non noise making for her to play. The sound of her crayons scraping the floor catche’s her attention. 

Her lips formed a soft smile. She bent down to a height of five year’s height. Her green eyes look up at her mother. Almost the spitting image of herself with the exception of her father’s eyes and grin. 

“Good Job.” Piper signed to her, she grinned. She had been teaching her simple ASL thing’s when she was three, two years later she knows almost fifty word’s to sign, almost more than her own father. 

She picks up her yellow crayon beginning to fill in the sun she drew in the corner tile. A home drawn with dark blue, in the top a purple cartoon plane with a stick figure with yellow hair. 

“That’s you.” The little girl point’s at the stick figures with her auburn hair fiery orange. She drags her finger to the other corner.

Tapping a purple cartoon plane with a stick figure with yellow hair. “And that’s daddy.” She signed. 

“I love it.” She signed with a smile. She envied how innocent she was in their bleak world, she was always grinning and running around their home. Piper gets to her feet leaving her to her 100 crayola pack. 

It was hard to find activities to preoccupy the five year old, one’s that were silent the least. She still tried to educate her as much as she could, teaching her basic reading and which animal’s were which, one’s she would never see sadly. 

The little girl had been too young to recall the trip to the zoo the two of them had taken. 

She touches her braid, pulling her windbreaker close to herself. The calendar she kept read was the end of February and soon March would be approaching. She furrowed her brow, where the hell is he? She thinks.

She had given him the simple task of collecting anything that seemed edible, and batteries. It was a miracle that they even got a generator, much less a place to hold up. 

Her friend had bought the place and planned to make it a functioning farm; he had let her stay there till everything ‘blew over’, she wished he had been right. 

“Jake?” She signed, she shook her head. He can't even see you signing, she reminds herself.

Her heart dropped to her stomach at the flash of a brown jacket. She held her chest panting as she collected herself. He held his mouth, stifling his chuckle.

“Don't do that.” She scolded him, her eye’s hardened with irritation. He smirked his million dollar smirk. 

“I'm sorry.” He start’s off, his motion’s quick. He’s been learning, she thinks through her annoyance.

“I just like seeing your squirm.” The blonde teased. 

She shook her head, trying to contain her smirk. Even in a world where everything had gone silent, somehow it didn't silence him.  

“I hate when you do that.” She scolded him. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Well I love when you do that.” He says, leaning closer to her face. She sighed, she quietly cleared her throat stepping back. 

“What did you find?” She asks him. He turned around, stealthy removing five can’s from his bag, a bottle of jack daniel’s, a lighter and seasons. 

She furrowed her brow picking up the whiskey. She raised a brow at his shopping choice.

“Really?” She signed. He smirked mischievous, she shook her head, 

“How about this?” He challenged, she furrowed her brow, putting her hand on her hips.  He reached inside of his bag slowly pulling something.

His hand grips a small tanned stuffed animal, its beady black eyes stare at her, its hair frizzy with a mane that rounded its entire head and tail, fake white fang’s sewn into the side of its muzzle. 

Her frown slowly morphed into a warm smile. “This make it better?” Jake ask’s. She leaned her head sideways. 

“Maybe.” Piper signed, he smirked at her. He knew the world was starting to take its toll on her.

Night’s weren't easy, she would wake in cold sweat, panting trying to let out a scream, she knew she couldn't. 

“This keep me from sleeping on the couch?” He wondered, she shrugged her shoulders, stepping forward.

“No bet on that flyboy.” She teased him. He held his chest in dramatic fashion.

“Ouch.” He mouthed, she shook her head wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him closer to her. 

His green eyes studied her as she gazed into his. His hair had grown out in the two years of their new world, before he had it well groomed to meet the standard’s of the Navy, his face no longer clean, his blonde beard now similar to a cowboy of spaghetti western. She couldn't complain though, she liked how he looked. She just wished he would keep up with the hygiene.

“You need a shave.” Piper signed. He scoffed at her signals. “Are you gonna do it for me?” He asks with a smirk.

“Who else would.” She joked. He shook his head pecking the auburn hair girl on the lips, she smiled. The sound of a quiet gagging noise causes the two to pull away from each other. At the end of the isle stood Alice, pointing at her tongue at their physical affection. 

The two adults smiled at each other. She removes her arms from around his neck, walking over to the little girl.

“Are you finished drawing?” She asked her. She nodded her head, with a toothy grin.

“Get your stuff, don't go far okay.” She asked her. She patted her on her polka dotted puffer coat.

Piper looked back at the blonde man, looking down at her feet sadly then at him.

“Pack this all up.” She order’s, he mocks her. 

She rounded up smaller thing’s into her bag. The walk back to their home was going to be a long one, she had made sure to find duct tape for her tom’s. Jake had given her tip’s on how to not attract the creature’s attention. 

The three begin to exit the rundown pharmacy. Piper adjusted her beanie, tucking bit’s of her braid into the edge’s. Jake grunted bending down picking up the five year old little girl, placing her on his hip as they started their long walk back. Strolling past the abandoned building’s of what used to be the surrounding small town near San Diego.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE SCRUBBED AWAY in the water at the dishes, one of her humane chore’s that she used to enjoy most of the time became a dreaded one. To keep thing’s silent in their household, she had to wash them in water in the sink. They did have running water, which they only ran for their shower’s,for their dishe’s they stuck to fetching it from a well five miles from the property. 

She adjusted her ponytail, wiping the sweat from her forehead.  A hand gently set a cup deep into the water, she whipped her head.

“Sorry.” He signed with thin lined smirk.

“It’s okay.” Piper reassured him, she didn't have the energy to be mad. He looked down at the dirty soapy water, she huffed running her green sponge through the lukewarm water. 

“Stop.” He signs. 

She furrowed her brow. “Why?” She asks him. His lip’s formed a thin line. “Because I want to.” He tells her, she raised a brow. 

“I want to help.” He sign’s to her mouthing the words. 

She sighed, handing over the green sponge, he smirked as she leaned on the kitchen island. She looked over to the living room, Alice sat on the floor, playing quietly with her doll’s near a gas lantern that illuminated her area with an orange glow. 

The sun outside had set, the sky filled with dark clouds and the star’s painted the night. Silent, like always, not for the occasional bird chirping, too high for the creature’s to kill, she guessed. He placed the final plate down on the towel. 

He turned around leaning on the sink, She stared off deep in thought. He stands in front of the auburn hair woman.

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

She shakes her head. “No.” Piper admit’s, her shoulders tensed as she leaned off the island.  His brows furrowed. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asked worriedly.  She licked her lip’s crossing her arms. 

“I saw those symbol’s again.” She signed to him, he raised a brow. 

“Where?” Jake asked her, she sighed heavily. 

“Back of the grocery store.” She tells him. She knew there were rumor’s on the radio of a group killing people they deem too loud for the new world. They had gained the nickname ‘The Bandits’, over parts of the town she would see on wall’s initials, SDB, written in dark brown ink or what she thought was ink. 

“They're getting closer to us.” She state’s, his eyes softened at her worry.

“They don't know we are here.” He reassures her, she shakes her head. 

“But what if they do.” She says, her brown eye’s beginning to welt over with tears in the corners. He shakes his head, stepping closer to her, taking her hands. 

“They don't.” He signed with one hand, she gulped looking him in his eyes.

“If they find out we are here–they will do something bad.” Piper admits to him, she looked over into the living room where her daughter sat playing, unaware of their conversation. 

She looks back to him. “What if they try to..hurt her.” She stumbled over her signing. He shook his head. 

“We won't let that happen.”  Jake reasure’s her. 

“Nothing else matters to me more than her.” Piper tells him. Her heart skipped a beat, she could see the fear flash for a moment in his face. 

“If something happened to her, I couldn't live with myself.” She signed. 

“I'm not gonna let them find us.” He swears, his fist balled as he signed to her. “And if they do.” He inhales deeply. 

“They will regret fucking with the wrong family.” The blonde stated. Her frown slowly turned to a soft smile. 

“What?” He signed, she covered her mouth, muffling her soft chuckle. “You sound like your old self, Flyboy.” She wrap’s one arm on his shoulder bringing him into an embrace. He smirks against her shoulder. 

She brings her nose into his black shirt that clung to him. She thought it was strange how the world had to end to bring them closer, more than the day their daughter was born. She had barely seen him when he was in the Navy, he was always busy. 

A loud crash brings them out of their embrace. Jake’s head snapped in the sound’s direction, seeing the flame’s from the gas lamp starting to spread, he quickly ran grabbing the dark blanket, throwing it on top of the fire, patting down extinguishing it.

The young girl looked up at him, her eyes widened as the silence filled the room again. Piper’s heart skipped a beat as it began to race, she didn't dare to move as she anticipated the sound of the inhumane roar’s hell bent on ending their disrupters. Jake slowly gets to his knees, quietly as possible. 

Silence, dead silence. Piper glanced at her daughter, her eye’s widening as she looked to her father.He lightly got to his feet, looking all around at the farmhouse ceiling. His shoulders relaxed,He shook his head turning around. 

BANG!.  

She flinched, her heart dropping to her stomach. He brings his finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. Alice’s breath shake’s as her eye’s darted between her parent’s, her mother stood frozen with her mouth parted, her father slowly making his way to the window. 

He leaned his head close to the cool glass. He looked to the roof, he looked down at the ground.

Cries of a wild dog interrupted the silence, the brown and tan coyote scampered away knocking down trash. The couple let out a breath of relief, Alice ran on her tiptoes to her mother’s side, wrapping her arms around her tightly. 

Her eye’s fell, as she looked down at her as she stroked her strawberry blonde hair. She wanted to whisper in her daughter’s ear that she was okay, that the monster’s were not gonna come back, that she was safe. Speaking was a grace that she had for three years of life, now it was all gone. 

⏁⏁⏁

GENTLY SHE walked down the stairs, the watch on her wrist reading half past ten o’clock. She ran her hand through her hair, messy with wave’s from being in a braid for so long. She clung to the oversized plaid shirt that engulfed her figure, his clothes some of the time made up most of her wardrobe.

She slowly walked to the sliding door’s of the basement bathroom, it somehow being an almost safe room for them to be in, the rushing of the shower water drowning out their voice.

The air smelt of cedarwood filled in nostrils as she stood leaned on the doorway. The steam from the shower still lingering as she watched him apply aftershave. His beard now reduced to a stubble, his hair though remained untouched. He wiped the condensation from the mirror with his fist, her silhouette casted onto the hickory wall’s.

He smirked softly, facing her. A towel wrapped around his neck, only clothes remaining on him being his black sleep shorts. “What are you doing up?” He wonder’s.

She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Couldn't sleep.” She signs to him, he nods his head.

“How is she?” He ask’s, she sighed.

“Fine I think..at least what you could be in this place.” She tells him.

He looked her up and down, she wore a dark gray shirt with US NAVY written in bold font, and striped sleep shorts, paired with his red plaid shirt that she once swore she would return to him. He smiled softly.

“What?” She signed to him, her lip’s forming a thin line and smiled. He runs his fingers across the front of his face in clockwise motion, his fingers and thumb end at his chin. Beautiful, Her face grew beet red.

He shook his head, still smiling. “Nothing.” He says. She nodded her head at his secretiveness, he sighed, opening a draw, pulling out black and blue hair dress scissors. He motion’s them to her.

“I’ll do it.” She tells him. She quietly slid the door behind her shut, closing it with a rag in the way. The auburn hair woman, sit’s behind on the leather bench with her legs. He held up his finger for her to wait.

He leaned over, reaching in pulling the handle for the water, purposely setting it to cold. He sits on the floor with his back to her, leaning back into her. She gently takes her fingers through his hair, finding the dead end’s to cut off.

She carefully snipped off bit’s onto the violet towel.

“You know you could do this yourself.” Piper speak’s up softly, he chuckled.“Why would I do that?" He ask's her.

"You do it so much better.” Jake admit’s, his tone haughty. She rolled her eye’s playfullying as she continued to work away.

“Sure Flyboy.” She teased him, he smiled fondly at his nickname.

“You know you really should manage this hair better.” She joked, he shrugged.

“Don't know if you know darling but the world has ended.” He reminded her, and she shook her head again.

“I don't think these alien asshole’s care how pretty you are.” He joked, she smiled at his cockiness.

She raised a brow. “Did you just call yourself pretty?” Piper jested, he patted her leg making her laugh softly.

“Shut up.” He says, smiling.

She sighed sadly, she continued to trim away at his hair. Memories of the world before had started to wash over her. She longed for the day’s of them together on the beach under the sun, laughing and teasing each other. Or when she had first met him, a bad night in the ER sent her to the Hard Deck, dying for a drink. Next thing she knew, someone had sent a whiskey neat, she looked up from her glass locking eye’s with probably the most handsome she had ever seen, straight from GQ magazine cover. Things stayed that way for awhile before she got the confidence to say ‘Hello’, and the rest is history.

“Are you still taking her tomorrow?” He ask’s her, his tone lacking any loftiness. She sighed as she cut his wet hair.

“I am, she deserves it.” Piper tells him.

“Are you sure?” He ask’s.

“Yes, she needs the chance to be a kid, I remember loving the beach when I was her age.” She recall’s. “We didn't have what she does remember.” He point’s out.

“It doesn't matter, okay, I want her to be happy.” She proclaims. He nod’s his head, he sighed looking down at the floor.

“I know you do, and I want that it’s just.” He stops him mid-sentence. She furrowed her brow, he gulp’s.

“I know you don't care what happens to you.” He continues.

“But I do.” He admit’s, her heart skipped a beat in her chest. His vulnerability came in moment’s of them finally being able to speak with one another. She knew he hated not being able to talk, talking was how he won her over, how they got the sweet little girl who slept soundly upstairs.

“I just want you….I want you both to be safe.” He admit’s somberly. She sighed, reaching her hand down, he raised his hand lacing his finger’s with her’s. The ambience of the running water filling the room.

“You're not gonna lose us.” She whispers in his ear.

"You're not gonna lose me." She promised.

His grip on her hand tightened as he blinked away the tears he knew were fighting to escape. She sighed against the side of his head, the tiredness weighing heavy on her body. If things could stay this way forever she would accept in a heartbeat,peace with him and her daughter.

She inhales deeply as she sits back up, counting to cut at his hair. “When are you y’all leaving?” He asks breaking the ice, she clears her throat.

“Some time after lunch.” Piper tells him. “Beach is about a one hour walk.” She says she takes a handful of the end’s of his hair, trimming around the edge of ear’s.

She had experience cutting her own hair, not being able to afford a salon during college.

“Hope you make it back before it rain’s.” Jake say’s. She furrowed her brow.

“It’s not gonna rain.” Piper state’s, snipping the scissor’s loud,he scoffed. “Yeah it is.” He declares, she shook her head.

“And how do you know this?” Piper wonder’s, he sits up straighter. “I can smell it.” He tells her, she rolls her eyes playfully.

“Don't give me that southern superpower thing.” She joke’s. He rolled his eyes at her teasing.

“You can't smell rain.” She chuckled.

“Yeah I can, tell me a time when I was wrong.” He challenged, and she bit her lip.

“When you were on leave when we first started dating you said it was gonna storm.” Piper recall’s, he smirked.

“And?” His tone condescending. “And it was dry all week.” She state’s, he rolls his eyes.

“No it wasn't.” He says offended. She shrugged his shoulders.

“You want to question me while I have a sharp object in my hand.” She threatened, she clicked the scissor’s close with a snip.

He put his hand’s up in surrender. She smirked at her own victory, she trimmed around the last bit of his long hair, getting it down to a short easy to brush cut.

She runs her finger’s through, getting rid of the extra bit’s she missed.

He moaned softly at the feeling of fingers through his hair. She removed the towel from around his neck shaking out into the trash. She brings her arms wrapping them around his neck and torso.

She ran her cold hand down his chest, he shuddered as goosebumps ran down each part of his body. He held onto her arms leaning his head back against her leg, looking up at her.

Her nails grazed across his skin as she brought her hand to his cheek. She inhaled deeply as she began moving her lips against his.

She felt his eye lashes tickle her chin. Kissing him upside down was not ideal, though she had to admit it was very hot. His fingers caressed her face. She exhaled as he pulled away, his breath peppering her mouth.

He rolled over onto his knees. She barely had time to catch her own breath as his mouth met her's. She closed her eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.

His hand trailed down her waist, thumbing the edge of her shirt. The butterflies in her stomach went crazy as his calloused fingers grazed under her bare skin. She shivered.

He slowly pushed her back to the wall, her leg uncrossing, placing one leg around his waist. He ran his hand up her thigh, his fingers playing with the elastic of her sleep shorts.

She opened her eyes as it clicked in her head. "Jake." She says breathless, pulling away.

He kept his mouth busy as he peppering kisses down neck. She bit her lip stifling the moan that dared to escape her.

"Jake." She speaks up. He finally pulled away looking up at her, his eyes meeting her's.

"What?" He whispered. She sighed looking away at the water that still ran, she would deal with the mess later.

She looked back at him. "The noise." Piper whispers back. He shook his head.

"I can be quick, if you can" He promises, his southern drawl coming out. Her heart skipped a beat, she nodded, both of them continuing what they had started.

⏁⏁⏁

THE MUD SQUISHED under her shoe’s, her grip on Alice's hand not letting up with each step they took. Piper had taken protection with them, a knife that Jake had given her for her birthday last year, carving her initials into the leather of her holster.  And a pistol, she knew there was a chance she wasn't going to use it because of the noise, but she knew with the bandit’s becoming a looming threat she couldnt be too careful. 

Alice sighed bored as they passed more tree’s, they had stuck to the hiking path laid down for them by the park service, nothing entertaining for the five year old to really look at. Talking wasn't an option for them. Piper could hear the cry of bird’s growing louder,the crashing of waves more prevalent as they walked. 

Before the world had ended, she had taken her to the beach plenty of time’s, only she wasn't old enough to remember it all.

Piper had grown up in Vermont, not even close enough to the ocean, she could recall when she first got to the beach, being twenty four and finally finishing nursing school it felt like she could take on anything that she drove straight into the freezing water.

The both of them come to a stop. She smiled softly overlooking the rocky cliff as the ocean wave’s crashed loudly below them. She turned to the strawberry blonde little girl, her jaw agape as she stared out to the shoreline. 

“What do you think?” Piper signs to her daughter, she smiles at her mother.

“It's cool.” She says, nodding her head. She turned her head to the path stairs leading down. She looked back at her.

“Want it to get cooler?” She asked her, she nodded her head, with a flick of her fingers she gestured for her to follow her. 

The wind whipped against her hair, throwing her braid all over. The cloud’s in the sky slowly turned gray as they walked down the cobble step’s. She was happy that the railing had not given way to the elements yet, as she hopped down after the last step, turning around and extending her hand for her daughter to take. 

“Careful.” Piper signed with one hand. The strawberry blonde girl slowly got onto the rocky path. 

The both of them in slow pace getting closer to the water that pulled in and out with a loud roar. She takes her back pack off, setting it on the dry sand, Alice following her lead. She puts her hand in front of daughter. 

“Wait.” Piper speak’s up. Her green eyes widened in fear as she whipped her head all around. She gets on her knees in the sand getting to her daughter’s height, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

She points at the ocean. “This is loud, they don't like it.” She explains to the frightened young girl. 

“You don't have to be afraid, you are safe here.” Piper reassured, her voice soft as she looked her up and down. The wind kissing her cheek, she looked out at the ocean to her mother.

“Let’s get these shoe’s off.” She says, velcroing her neon purple straps, sitting them next to their backpack’s.

She unzips her own jacket tossing it to the side, Alice slid her polka dot jacket off onto her jacket. 

Piper kicked off her tom’s, rolling up her pant leg to her knees. The two of them looked at each, she grinned as she picked her up by her arm’s running through the freezing water that stung at their legs.  She laughed loudly as she spun around with her daughter, her heart pounding with excitement.

“Think fast!” Piper exclaimed as she flung water on her, she squealed, flinging the foam from the wave’s at her. She yelped in surprise at her return fire. 

She looked up at the sky, the spring air cooled her as she extended her arms, taking in the moment of clarity. 

Alice wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, she sighed deeply as she place her hand on her shoulders holding her closely, the wave’s of the ocean pulling in and out around them as they remained in an embrace. 

The two of them did all they could to enjoy their time on the beach. Alice constantly challenged her to a race to the rock’s and back, Piper didn't have to bother with letting her win as the young girl was much faster than she had expected. She went around the sand looking for sea shell’s for the both of them. 

“Would daddy like this one?” Alice wonder’s holding up a gray and blue scallop seashell, she smiled.

“He would love it.” She tells her, she laughed as she stuffed her jean pocket. Piper imagined them filled to the brim. 

The one good day she could give her meant more than anything. She knew that the young girl couldn't have the childhood that either of parents had.

Running around in the grass and hanging out during the summer with friend’s. Staying out past curfew to be scolded, playing on the playground and seeing how high she could climb to see over the city. 

She sat at the edge of the shoreline, using a toothpick she had brought along to draw in the damp sand.

She drug the sharp wood across the top, letting her hand decide the picture she wanted. Alice sat criss crossed quietly digging in the sand.

Piper’s eyes widened as she suddenly remembered. She walked over to her backpack, unzipping it. She walked back over, sitting in front of the strawberry blonde girl. 

“I got you something.” She says, she looked up, excitement in her emerald eyes. “What is it?!” She asked curiously with her toothy grin. 

“Close your eyes.” She tells her, her shoulders slumped annoyed.

“Why?!” She groaned. 

“Just do it.” She says. She rolled her eyes as she told her. 

“No peeking.” Piper state’s, she brought her little hands covering her face. She pulling the object out from behind her back, she gently removed her hand’s from her petite face, placing a soft brown toy in the palms. 

“Open.”Her green eyes fluttered, her grin widened as she looked at the fluffy mane of the cuddly stuffed toy.

“For me?” She wondered. 

“Yes, it's your’s.” She confirmed. She squealed in excitement as she held the toy close to herself in embrace. Her heart ached at her joy, she spun around on her heel’s landing on her knees in the sand. 

“Thank you Thank you!” She gushed. She wrapped her arms around her neck, she gasped in surprise, she bring’s a hand to her back holding her closely. Alice’s shoulder’s tensed up as she slumped against her mother.

She pulled away as she thumbed the of the snout of the lion, its beady black eyes staring up at her.

“Ally?” She say’s warmly.She doesn't answer, playing with the wet sand. Her green eyes softened.

“What’s the matter?” Piper asked in concern. 

“I’m sorry.” Alice say’s fiddling with a small sand castle. She furrowed her brow confused. “For what, baby?” She wonder’s. 

“The monster’s found us last night.” Alice admit’s, Piper shook her head, the five year old girl looked down at her bare feet.

“No it's not your fault.” She tells her warmly, she sits her toothpick down. 

“I made a noise..” She stammered as a tear rolled down her cheek. She shook her head. The woman slide’s over the sand, bringing her young girl into an embrace.  

“Alice, it wasn't your fault.” Piper whisper’s into her ear, softly stroking her hair.

“Don't blame yourself for anything like that, not ever.” Her voice was smooth, she pulled away placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulders. 

“This world is a scary place.”She tells the little girl. Her green eyes glistened with tears at the edges. She shakes her head gulping.

“But you are so..so much bigger and braver than it.” She stammered. 

“You are so brave Ally, and you are so strong.” She brings her hand’s to her face, gently cupping her cheek. Her pink little lip’s form a thin line smile, Piper’s used her thumb brushing a strand of hair away from her face. 

“We should go.” Piper say’s getting to her feet,the cloud’s above grew darker, puffing up with each end. The sound of rumbling above in the darkness.

“Mommy.” She spoke up.

She turned her head at her, “Someone’s watching us.” she pointed. Her brown eyes widened in fear looking at the ridge.

The shadow of a stranger peeked through the fog that had begun to roll in with the storm above. 

“Alice.” Her voice stern with the five year old, she looked back at her.

“Grab your things, right now.” She ordered, she furrowed. 

“Why? Who is that?” The little girl wonder’s. Her brown eye’s stare down the stranger on the hill.

“No one good.” She answered. She hustled around grabbing her bag’s, pulling her jacket back on. 

Piper didn't waste any time with grabbing her daughter’s hand, her pace in walking faster then her own daughter. She held her hand on the little girl , she knew that anyone who wasn't her boyfriend or was someone she once considered friend was a danger to them. The alien’s were a concern but they weren't what scared her. 

Drop lits began to drizzle onto her coat, the dirt slowly turning into mud with each step they took. She eyed the tree’s on each side, scanning for danger’s each direction. Maybe she was being paranoid, and that she was wrong about the bandit’s. 

Thunder rumbled above them, Alice’s grip on her mother’s finger tightened at the sound. Should have left earlier, she thinks. Alice hated storm’s, Piper found it ironic as the night she was born a typhoon struck the coast of Southern California.

A storm so dangerous that it flooded most of the valley leaving so much debris, and destruction that it was like a wonderland. 

She panted as she continued to speed walk through the pines. Piper used one hand to pull her hood over her head. CLICK.

She stop’s dead in track’s extending her palm in front of her daughter. 

Her brown eyes drifted down to her ankle, a thin line of metal pushed right against her, hooked up to a tree. She didn't dare to move to find out what it was rigged too. She gulped looking down at the strawberry blonde girl at her waist, she shook her head. 

“Don't move.” Piper mouthed, her eye’s fearfully looking at her, nodding at her order’s.

The squishing of mud under feet catches her attention, she looks up seeing two men wearing black clothes and bandanas hiding their faces from them.

They smirked sinisterly at her, eyeing the young woman and the little girl. The blue bandana pulled out a knife from his pocket, shiver’s run down her spine seeing the dried brown on the blade.

Hair’s on her neck stood to attention as she felt the hot breath of another person breathing behind her. She lifted her hand’s up surrender to the stranger’s, the lack of sunlight couldn't help her determine how many were behind her. 

“Which one do you want?” The red bandana sign’s to the blue one, she guessed one of them was the leader of their group.

Red’s eye’s trailed over to the auburn hair woman, looking at her buttoned up henley shirt, the clothing around his mouth moving in a circular motion. 

“I like redheads.” He signs, her blood ran cold at their signing. Her eyes darted to her right, another man with a black bandana stood next to her.

Her chest heaved up and down as her heart began to race. 

She wasn't sure what they would do to her, but to her daughter she could get an awful image. There were no more law’s or legal systems, a perfect world for sick people like these men. 

“Take the big one to the hill.” Blue order’s, red’s brow’s furrowed looking at the little girl next to her.

Red bandana looked Alice up and down, he stepped up to her, getting down to her height. Her green eyes flooded with tears at the strange man. 

His dirty hand took the lion toy out of her hand’s. Piper’s hand shook with rage seeing his dirty nail’s touching the toy hand picked for her daughter from the man she loved. She knew what to do now. 

“This one is mine.” Blue signed, her little face shook frightened. 

Piper stepped forward with a click of the trip wire, a collection of bottle’s tied together collapsed down with a loud clunk, the men’s eyes widened at the sound. Piper growled as she plunged her knife into the jugular of the black bandana. 

“Run!” Piper whispered to Alice, she grunted as her feet kicked up mud running away. The auburn hair woman swung her fist into the face of the blue bandana before she ran alongside her daughter. 

The two of them panting as they jumped over bit’s of twig’s and green’s, sticking to the path they had followed and the one they had created. Piper looked over her shoulder, the shadow’s of the tree’s of people following right not far behind. 

Piper grunted, grabbing Alice’s shoulders, holding her closely in a bridal style.

Alice’s strawberry blonde hair whipped against her face, the rain had started to become less of drizzle and more of a sprinkle. She looked down at her feet, her footprints in the mud clear with each step. 

She duck’s behind a tree, setting her little girl down. She panted with her back against the tree as her mother set her backpack down on the ground. 

“You need to run!” Piper signed frantically. She shook her head. “No!” Alice signed. 

“Stay on the path, find your daddy.” Piper declared. Her green eye’s bore into her dark brown eyes. “No.” She repeated. 

“You have to run, or they will find you.” She orders her, she shakes her little head.  “I can't leave you.” She signed her lip quivering. 

“I cant– “Alice Seresin.” She whispered and interrupted her,  she held her face. She took a deep breath. 

“You are so brave..and sp strong, and I need you to do this.” She whispered. 

Fear flashing over her face. Tears falling from eye, twig’s snap her heart racing faster. She brought her lip’s to her forehead, inhaling her scent. She pulled away admiring her daughter one last time. 

“I love you so much.” Piper’s voice breaking,She pulled away admiring her daughter one last time. She sniffled, taking a deep breath.

“Now..RUN!” She ordered. Her hair whipped in the wind as she darted away from her mother. Piper gulped as her throat tightened. She removes her knife from her holster, huffing as she turned around marching through the tree

⏁⏁⏁

THE MEN STOOD PANTING. Blue bandana stepped forward looking at the three remaining men. He kicked the dirt in anger, pacing back and forth over the cliff that overlooked the beach.

“Where did the big one go?” Red whisper’s. Blue shook his head. “Who gives a fuck!” He signs. The three men flinched at his anger, he throws his cap off his head.

“The little one, get me the little one!” Blue order’s pointing his finger at the red bandana, he nodded his head turning around following the path. The two remaining men looked at their leader, he ran a hand through his greasy hair.

“What are you gonna do with her when you get her?” Yellow bandana wonder’s, he shook his head.

“That’s for me to know.” He tells him.

“What about the big one, are we gonna auction her?” Purple bandana asks. He rolled his eyes at his question.

“Fuck her, she killed one of our own.” Blue say’s, shaking his head.

“She could be more useful than the little one.” Yellow point’s out. Blue grabs him by the neck holding him tightly.

“I dont fucking want her..get me the little one.” He whispers in his ear’s.

A gurgling sound interrupts both men. They snapped their head’s seeing purple grabbing at his throat as blood drenched his coat as he fell to the ground. With a grunt she removed her blade, she stood up looking at both men. Her eyes burned with anger at the blue bandana.

She pointed her knife at him. “You.” She signed.

Yellow eyes the woman, he charged at her, he swung his fist at her. She huffed dodging it, hooking her arm under his, he groaned in pain at the fiery hot pain of the knife plunging into his shoulder blade.

She knee’s his gut shoving him onto the ground. Blue smirked at her, slowly clapping silently at her. She vibrated with anger at his mockery.

“Now what?” he signed.

“You die.” Piper signed. He smirked at her threat, he stepped forward in a challenging manner. “Are you sure about that?” He questioned. She grunted, swinging her blade.

He jumped back, she huffed, swinging her fist in his direction, missing again. She groaned as fiery pain spread across her face, the impact of his punch disorienting her. The rain began to become heavier as the two of them fought.

She grunt’s locking his head in hold, punching him in the gut repeatedly. He grunted in effort pulling at her raincoat, removing it from her entirely. Shegasped as he pulled himself out of her hold, shoving her into the mud. Blue bandana spit’s out blood onto the ground.

“Bitch.” He grumbled, she wiped her nose as the copper taste filled her mouth. She pat’s her holster looking for her knife, her eyes widened as she couldn't feel the ebony handle.

“Shit.” She mouthed. She flip’s onto her feet, she rushed at him tackling him with the full force her body could muster, their body’s slammed onto the cold rock wet rocks.

Piper cough’s holding her rib cage, his grimy hands shoving her face onto the concrete.Anger boiled inside of her at the feeling of his nail’s digging into her cheeks.

“Fucking die already.” He grumbled, the pressure on her back becoming heavier. On the ground a reflection from an object shined her way. She shouts failing her legs in each direction, he exclaimed frustrated.

She reached out her hand for the shiny object, she gasped for air as her rib cage began to feel smaller. Her wet finger’s lace through the handle hole, she pulled it closer to herself. In effort she rolled shoulder’s spinning around.

He cried out in pain, cupping his cheek as blood began to seep out. She stood on her feet looking at the man. She shook herself off as the adrenaline pumped through her body. He yells as he runs at her, she yelps moving out of the way.

Piper turned around only to be met with a blow to the face. Her back smacked the rock’, closer and closer to the edge the both of them dualed, her knife dropped to the ground with a clink as the man got on top of her gripping her wrist.

“You just giving up, sweet thing.” His voice sneered at her, his hand slowly trailing to the button of her henley shirt, he groaned closing his eyes as his dirty fingernails pulled away the clothing separating the piece. She grunted against his weight.

He mumbled as he leaned his head back as he countied to work on the top of her shirt. Thunder cracked above her making her heart skip a beat, she turned her head, her blade laid only an inch away from her. Without hesitation her hand gripped the handle as she brought it to chest.

He gasped loudly, falling back onto the ground. Piper yelped as she crawled onto him, cutting through him with multiple blow’s, each time letting out a yell of rage. He gurgled, coughing up blood onto her face.

An inhuman cry pulled her out of her trance. She snapped her head watching the tree’s pull apart as they got closer. She pushed herself out of the way.

⏁⏁⏁

ALICE PANTED as she kept running along the pathway, her sketcher’s covered in the mud as the rain began to get heavier. The farmhouse laid in plain sight as she got closer to the fence line, only a few more step’s.

Thunder rumbled loudly, she flinched at the sound but countied to run. She had stopped only twice to catch her breath, she couldn't let her mother down, she need to find her father, to safety.

Her strawberry blonde hair bit’s were sticking to her wet cheek’s. She held her hand at her hips as she stopped finally at the white fence. On the porch, her father sat on the swing, the rain pouring as he took in the sound’s.

Her mother’s word’s sound in her head, they don't like loud sounds, water was loud at the beach, maybe it’s loud now.

“Dadd-!” Her voice interrupted as a hand clamped down on her mouth. She struggled against the person that drugged her, her screams muffled as she desperately cried for her father.

“Quiet!” The voice snapped, she grunted elbowing her kidnapper in the gut, she bit into the finger of the stranger hard. He shouted in pain as he let go of her.

“Little brat!” He grumbled.

The man cladded in red is brought to the ground. Alice gasped in surprise as a blonde man held him to the ground, making repeated blows to the face. He turned looking over his shoulder at her.

“Alice, go!” Jake order’s, she nodded her head sprinting away. His green eyes darkened as he held the man by his shirt. Rain poured down on the both of them, soaking his black long sleeve shirt.

“Who the fuck are you?!” He questioned in fury, the man smirked up at him. He shouts as she punches him. “Who are you!?” He demanded once again.

He doesn't answer. Jake growls' shoving his head against the ground. “Where’s my wife?!” He demand’s.

The man gripped the handle of his blade pulling out. Jake gripped the man’s wrist redirecting his aim, he held one hand over his mouth as he stabbed him in the gut. His cries of agony muffled by him.

“Tell me where she is?!” Jake ordered. His teeth turned red as his smirk widened at his violence. His nose scrunched up as he twisted the blade.

“Tell me!” He fumed.He coughed, spitting blood straight up at him.

“Dead..silent..like us like you will be.” He gurgled through his attempts to laugh. Jake shook his head.

“Just you.” He declares. He coughed once more as his breath slowly became a wheeze before he finally exhaled. Jake wiped his face with the back of his hand, throwing off the blood onto the ground.

He got to his feet, he grunted as he ran back to the house. His boot’s heavy on the wood as he got inside the house.

“Daddy!” A small voice exclaimed.

she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, thunder rumbling louder outside. He sighed in relief, getting to his knees wrapping his arms around the little girl.

“Thank god you're okay.” He whispered into her ear, He panted, breathing heavily. Holding her as close to him as he could. Her wet hair draped across his neck, her little face wet from tears and rain.

“Alice.” He speaks up, her breath shake’s as he pulls away, he holds her shoulders gently.

“Are you hurt, did he hurt you?” He ask’s her, she shakes her head.

He brushed back a piece of her wet hair.” Alice.” He say’s softly, her green eye’s meet his.

“Where’s mommy?” He wonder’s. She began to pant looking at the screen door, his heart fell to his stomach. He blinked as the color drained from his face.

“Oh god..oh god.” He pant’s.He gets to his feet, only being stopped by a small hand gripping his.

“Don't go!” She exclaimed. He glanced between his daughter and the door. “Please.” She pleaded.

He inhaled deeply. “I won't.” He promised. He runs a hand through his hair, collecting his thoughts.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Jake sniff’s, taking her small hand in his leading her downstairs.

Alice’s expression remained bleak, the once happy five year old who had so much to show the world driven into silence. Not even her father playing with her in the bathtub, making funny noises, brought her out.

Jake didn't want to admit to himself but knew she had experienced something awful.

He pulled her blanket over her, staying next to her as she slowly fell asleep. The storm outside didn't settle down even as she slumped against his chest. Many things were running through his mind, like what had happened when he wasn't with them, why did these bastard’s come for his family, and where is his wife.

He slowly got out of the small twin size bed, placing the purple starry comforter back over her. Sleepy soundly, he walked out of the room quietly shutting the door behind him.

His breath shake’s as he walks down the steps to the living room.

He looked around the farmhouse, the fireplace cracking and popping, the rumble of thunder outside disrupting the coziness of the home. It felt empty, he felt empty, half of his heart was gone. It was his fault, he let her leave when he knew the danger of the world was the monster’s.

Not the monster’s who hunt for sport at just the sound of a twig snapping, the real monster’s who got the sick pleasure of destroying the lives of others.

He bends down on the floorboard, sliding away the board feeling around the cabinet below for the old wood handle. He grunt’s slowfully removing the remington rifle from the space, he opened the barrel to see it was still fully loaded since he found it.

The former pilot stand’s up, in a steady pace outside to the front porch.

Lightning cracks across the sky as the rain continues its rage against the earth. In one hand he held the gun in the other, the Jack Daniel's he was scolded for finding, he sits on the wooden chair.

Staring at the dirt road paved with sand to silence their step’s. Keeping her safe was all he had now, he wasn't gonna let anyone or anything take what he had left. Thunder rumbled across the setting spring sky, his finger on the trigger ready.

A snap of a branch bring’s him out, he stood to attention, cocking the gun. His breathing steady as his heart raced in his ears. His eyes trained on the dark road, a silhouette stumbled his way. Their hair is braided, wet and tangled. He could make out the shadow of a blade in their hand, and in the other a stuffed animal.

They limped closer, the lamp on the wood post illuminating a yellow and orange hue on their face. His green eyes widened in realization, he dropped the gun in a dash towards her.

She gasped in shock at the sudden impact of his embrace. The knife fell from her hand’s, her free one around his neck.

Piper’s chest heaved up and down, shivering from the cold. Salty tear’s mix with the earthy water that fell on them. He whispered in her ear a mixture of apologies.

“You were right.” She breathed out, he furrowed his brow. “Right about what?” He ask’s, his green eyes watered over.

“It rained.” She chuckled weakly, he shook his head, his laugh vibrating against her shoulder. “I hate that.” She admit’s with a small smile.

“You love it.” Jake whispered, she nodded against him.

"Get me inside, please.” Piper pleaded with him. He complied with her order’s, latching his arm’s under her as she went limp in exhaustion.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE SAT on her side of their bed, her damp hair draped over her gray tank top. Her body shivered even with his jacket on her, her shirt had become less of a beige color and more of dirty brown from the blood. 

“This is gonna sting.” He tells her, she wasn't used to being patched up, she usually did the first aid. He dabbed the alcohol soaked rag against her split knuckle. She could feel the multiple bruises growing on her body, and she knew for sure when thing’s cooled down she was more than likely gonna be sick. 

She grit her teeth. “Fuck.” Piper swear’s, the thunderstorm allowed them to talk, she was thankful for once for him to be right about the rain. 

He smirked. “Threw a hell of a punch.” Jake commented, her lips formed a thin line.

She tried not to think about what had happened. 

“Yeah, and got a bruised rib to add to it.” She chuckled weakly, he pulled out a bandage from her first aid bag. His calloused hands maneuvered with the roll, beginning to wrap the cloth around her hand. “I taught you well.” Piper say’s, he smirked.

“I'm a quick learner.” He reminds her, she sighed leaning her head back. 

“I don't doubt that Flyboy.” Her voice raspy, she sniffed. She gazed at his face, dried blood at the edge of nose, and furrowed her brow.

“Are you okay?” She ask’s. 

His green eyes looked up at her. “Are you really asking me that?” Jake wonder’s, her hand caressed his face, warm to the touch. 

“Did they fucking find you?” Piper demand’s from him, he looks down continuing to clean her up. 

“Jake.” She says, he blink’s looking back at her. She reached down, groaning as she pulled out alcohol wipes beginning to dab away the crimson. 

“You shouldn't be doing this for me.” He says. She shook her head. “Too bad, I am.” She says, holding his cheek with one hand. “Piper.” He says, she shook her head. “Doesn't seem broken.” She tells him. 

“Pip-”You should be careful wiping around here though.” She interrupts, he take’s both of his hands, removing her hand’s from his face, looking at her. 

“Please stop.” He pleaded with her, she exhaled in exhaustion. “I’m sorry.” Piper whisper’s, she leaned her forehead against. 

“God, I'm so tired.” She breathed out. She inhaled his scent as she hugged him.  “It’s okay.” He whispers as he wraps his arm around her as she closes her eye’s, her head slumped against his shoulder. Her skin was cold and damp as he lowered her back into their bed. He holds her close to him, not letting her go. The storm outside begins to die down becoming a drizzle, he leaned over her body, turning off the gas lamp that lit the entire room. 

A/N: HOLY..I Have no word's how did I pull this off this week.

NO PRESSURE Tagged: @cowboysandpilots @bobfloydssunnies @sugarcoated-lame @sorchathered @fairyheart @senawashere @swiftsgirlfriend @nouis-bum @pinkdaisies9285 @mamachasesmayhem @senawashere @cottagecori

[pensivegreen]

CH 1: Silent Shadows

Whispers In The Dark

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Note: not canon, diverges from storyline. Slow burn. Also, my first time attempting to actually write.

TW: typical criminal minds description of crime and criminal behavior, brief mention of insecurities, swearing

WC: 1.4 K

The car ride to D.C. was uneventful. Everyone divided into two Suburbans either sleeping or rereading the case file. You opted to stare out the window for the majority of the ride, admiring the last couple weeks of autumn. It’s always been your favorite season weather-wise in addition to the feeling of comfort it awakens that you naturally never received. 

Gazing out the window, your eyes meet the D.C. police station that invited your team here. Parked, everyone gets out in near synchrony, walking into the station. A man meets you all as soon as you enter the double doors. “Lieutenant Cook, thank you for coming so fast.”.

“Of course, we’re happy to help.” JJ shakes the man’s outstretched hand, “Jennifer Jareau, we spoke on the phone. This is Supervisor Special Agent Hotchner, Rossi, Special Agent Morgan, Prentiss, Y/L/N, and Dr. Spencer Reid.” JJ introduces everyone skillfully as it is not the first or last time.

“Nice to meet y’all. I’ve cleared out a room in the back for you guys to set up camp. Already had my guys place all the evidence boxes there as well.” You are impressed at how prepared Lieutenant Cook is, yet staring at the weathered man in front of you, it’s obvious he just wants this case solved.

“Thank you. Reid, get with Garcia and start working on the geographic profile. Rossi, start rifling through the caseload in the back looking for any patterns or peculiarities. Morgan and Prentiss, pair up and meet with the victims’ families and friends. We need a more in-depth understanding of the victim profile. Y/n and I will help Prentiss and Morgan by dividing the attention.” Hotch delegates the team to work as efficiently as possible, as we’re behind the unsub and have catching up to do.

Like normal Hotch jumps into the driver's seat without even asking, punching an address into the GPS. Driving off, the only noise filling the void was the monotone voice spewing directions every so often. You can feel that Hotch is in thought, attempting to battle if he should press the issue he has created in his mind.

“You’ve been off ever since we took this case.”

Damn profilers. 

“Just been in thought is all. I thought you said we aren’t supposed to profile each other?” you turn your head to quirk your eyebrow at him. 

Turning his head to glance at you quickly, before resuming his attention to the road, “It’s not a profile just an observation.” Hotch subconsciously grips and releases his hand on the steering wheel, “Is it because of what these girls look like?”

Shit. You gently pull your attention from the driver's side back to the road. Everyone knows it’s weird when you work a case where you fit the unsubs type. It’s not the first time but, something about the trauma inflicted on these women causes you to stir more than normal.

“It’s not the first or last time I’ll see myself in those photos, Hotch. I’m fine” You try to be truthful but ease any doubt you sense. You know Hotch is trying to look out for you but you don’t want to feel babied or the rest of the team to patronize you.

With a reluctant glare, Hotch drops the topic, “Okay”.

· · ─────── · ୨୧ · ─────── · ·

You and Hotch make your way around the D.C. area meeting with the families and friends of the victims. The interviews paint a consistent picture: all three victims usually stayed late on campus, either immersed in academic pursuits or enjoying social activities. Each loved one highlights the resilience and physical fitness of the women, emphatically stating they would not go quietly if attacked or abducted.

The first interview is with the parents of Sarah, a diligent student engrossed in her studies. Her mother recalls, “Sarah often studied until the library closed. She was disciplined and fiercely independent. She knew how to be safe.”

The second victim’s roommate, a close friend named Lisa, confirms a similar pattern. “Sophia was a social butterfly but also a health nut. She’d often be the last to leave the gym or a party, especially since she usually would help clean up.”

During the third visit, the brother of Rachel, a passionate athlete, echoes the previous sentiments. “Rachel was tough. She trained in self-defense for years. If someone attempted to kidnap her, they’d regret it.”

After the last interview, sitting in the car you voice the gnawing question. “Why would an organized offender target victims who would not only be noticed missing but would also resist?”

Hotch nods, his brows furrowed. “An organized offender typically avoids high-risk situations. These women pose a threat and increase the risk of the unsub being caught mid-abduction.”

Your phone vibrates, reading the caller ID you pick up. “Morgan, can you tell me about the other two victims?”

Morgan’s voice comes through the line, steady and clear. “Same patterns, Y/N. Both women were frequently on campus late, either for classes or social events. They were also physically fit and had strong personalities.”

Exchanging looks with Hotch, you feel the pieces start to click together. “Thanks, Morgan. We’ll see you at the station.” 

· · ─────── · ୨୧ · ─────── · ·

Soon, the entire team gathers in the makeshift office at the police station.

“The question,” Hotch begins, addressing everyone, “is why an organized unsub would choose high-risk victims?”

Morgan weighs in first. “It could be a challenge thing. He might get a thrill from the struggle, from overpowering someone strong and resilient.”

“Or it could be a form of revenge,” Emily adds thoughtfully. “Maybe these women represent someone in his past who was strong and defiant. He might feel the need to dominate and break them.”

You nod, considering. “We also need to think about the possibility of him planning his approach meticulously. Maybe he’s confident enough in his methods and knowledge of their routines that he feels the risk is minimal.”

Spencer looks up from his notes. “The meticulous planning could suggest he has observed them for a prolonged period. He might have an intimate knowledge of their schedules, their habits. It’s not about random opportunity—it’s a well-calculated choice.”

JJ interjects, “And the emotional connection he feels might make him think he ‘knows’ them, reducing his perceived risk of getting caught.”

Hotch sums it up, “So, our unsub is highly organized, possibly with narcissistic tendencies, feeling superior and confident in his ability to control the situation despite the high-risk nature of his targets.”

As the meeting wraps up, everyone feels the weight of what still needs to be uncovered pressing down. The exhaustion from the day’s work begins to set in, the heaviness of the case reducing their energy. Reluctantly you all decide it would be best to call it a night and hit tomorrow with renewed vigor.

Although the FBI pays well they sure do cut costs in other areas; like hotel rooms. Before arriving at any hotel the team sets up a lottery system to determine who is sharing and who is the lucky bastard getting a single room. Garcia electronically handles this and sends out a mass message with the results.

The team begins to walk into the hotel when everyone's phone buzzes and instantaneously Rossi blares, “Oh I’m gonna sleep well tonight.”

Emily through exhaustion declares injustice, “You’ve got to be kidding me! This is the 3rd time in a row. Did you pay Garcia off?”

“If it wasn’t so late I’d demand a redraw.” Derek shakes his head with a smile. “JJ looks like we are stuck together.”

You finally look at the message to see you are rooming with Hotch. Great. Now you can’t escape his watchful eye at all. You’ve roomed with Hotch a handful of times and every time you feel stiff. From the moment you first saw Hotch, you had a hidden crush on him but, you’ve pushed down any attraction. Seeing the stoic man always dressed in suits suddenly walking around in sweats feels like a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

Walking into the room behind Hotch, you place your bag down beginning to pull out the things you need for the night. Luckily, Hotch lets you take the shower first. You hurriedly finish in the bathroom as your feet throb from soreness.

“All you”

Hotch follows your command shutting the bathroom door. Climbing into bed, your body melts into the mattress; the stiff pillows feel like memory foam due to exhaustion. Your eyes close hoping to be greeted by slumber before Hotch leaves the bathroom. With a stroke of luck, drowsiness seeps across your muscles. But before sleep claims you, the faces of the victims flash behind your eyes, echoing the hidden unease you feel.

[dreamyzhou]

Iodine, Livermorium, and Uranium

Pairing: College softie!Hyunjae x Eric's sister!reader

Genre: Contemporary college rom-com

Words: 4,8k

Warnings: Eric is your younger brother and he calls you Noona time to time, swear words, rats, Gen Z jokes, Kendrick and Drake drama, food (ice cream, barbecue, and rice), mentions of alcohol, you and Hyunjae are of same age, a lil suggestive in the end (??!!!), kissing [idek if some of these should be a warning, but i care if you get hurt by a fanfic i write, so imma just put it]

Inspired by: Hasan Minhaj (overall him as a comedian, artist, and a person), because he taught me how to be funnier than I was before all this.

Premise: When your brother, Eric, said he will sit in Chair 16 in Chemistry, he knew you were about to come early to pull it before he gets to sit. And when you did, you realized it was a set up.

Dedicated to Izzy @from-izzy who I kept reminding myself of when I wanted to give up on this fic.

1st fic of 31st Alternate Universe by Ellie unlocked by Hyunjae.

[7:59 A.M]

Three knocks. All it took was three knocks on your wooden bedroom door to be prepared and put up a sleeping act.

"Y/N, first day of college! Wake up!" A kick on your door and a hyperactive male voice with volume boosted with megaphone almost shattered your eardrums.

Tense muscles rose your spine. Then, you looked at the kid in front of you with his "I love LA" shirt. In all honesty, you weren't prepared for that one.

"That was creative, I'll give you that..." You took a portion of your blanket to wrap yourself a fluffy cocoon of cotton.

"Creative? Dude, that was genius. World record on actually making half of your body get up at the least! You know you need a permit to use these?"

You looked at him with the most judgemental eyes you ever gave to anyone.

"You got a permit... just to wake me up?"

"...No, my firefighter friend did. I just borrowed it from him!"

"What if he got into trouble for your misuse?!"

"Relax! The fact that he gave it to me is already a misconduct... Now, it's third week of October..."

"So?" You groaned as you went back to your dream shell. The sight of your laziness rolled Eric's eyes, he turned the megaphone's volume to the maximum.

"So! Get yo ass out of bed, She-Who-My-Grandma-Compares-Me-With! First person to get the bathroom, gets all the hot water!"

All the melatonin in your brain disappeared in a snap of Thanos' finger. Every muscle strand in you responded within 0.01 second as you ran to the bathroom. Eric pulled your elbow to the back, causing you to lose balance for awhile. You took a sandal lying around somewhere, then threw it to his head. Unfortunately for you, as the sandal was in the air, the blond-haired Jerry to your Tom closed the bathroom behind him.

"Ugh!"

"I win!"

"Bleh, bleh, bleh... Whatever!"

You turned around, walking to your bedroom. Trying to construct new activities you should be doing for your first day in third year of university, but... let's just say it takes energy to think. Your usual routine was one hour of waking up, half an hour of breakfast, and breakfast while running. It was a decent routine, but you needed to keep them in order. You recalled yesterday when you brought a hot waffle to the bathroom, you let it cool down as you showered, and by the time you're finished you ate it. It invited a married rat couple who had many babies.

Yesterday? Hold on—

There was a screech coming from the door that got hit by the sandal.

"Uh... Noona? You can have the shower first... I'm in the mood to be nice today!"

"No, a deal's a deal..." Letting out an intentional maniac laugh, you were glad you can just use the guest bathroom (which was never the option because for some peculiar reason, the water was never hot.

"Fuck you!"

[8:43 A.M]

You accompanied your brother to the room they needed him and the rest of the first-year students. There was a third-year student volunteering to help out the first-years with their orientations and such, and you told Eric he could always go to them. The clock indicated it was almost the time you both needed to go your own ways. He looked back at you, as if shy to say something then he entered the room that hadn't close its doors.

You knew this habit of your brother's that somehow helped managing his anxiety a bit. Looking at an older sister figure seemed to ease him as if everything will be alright as long as you were there. You never really got an explicit expression of how good you are of a sister, but it was never about you when it comes to Eric. It was just about the fact that you helped him no matter if it was just by being there for him.

"Hey, Eric?" He already took two steps in the room, but your call turned him around.

"Yeah?"

"You're still ten centimeters shorter in my eyes..." Eric laughed at the insult that he disliked the most, but only if other people said it.

"And you are still screaming Justin Bieber's Baby lyrics with your brush in my eyes."

He approached you and you two did the sibling handshake that you both never made a mistake in for years.

"Don't forget to drive a sister home at 2:30, okay?"

"Won't!"

[3:16 P.M]

Unlocking the flat you shared with your little brother with the cold keys, you sighed as you entered the place. Eric promised to take you home, but you just got off the taxi and paid what could be the price of a fast food meal. You sensed danger when you heard, what you made up as, two males talking... and laughing. You hoped it was Eric, but their voices weren't the high-pitched and hyperactive kind. They were talking about... Drake?

"Oh hi, Noo—" POW!

Whether it was your reflexes that didn't even let him finish the word that could have make you (and his forehead) feel at ease or the fact that Eric was just unwise to be behind you while you were in your flight-or-fight mode... nobody knows.

"What'd you do that for?!" He screeched as he held his forehead.

He went to the mirror near the door, one that he installed for "fashion" purposes.

"Look at this! I got a sole with a Nike logo printed on my head!"

You didn't really care about how much it hurt as he was speaking about it. You went to the living room at started your own lecture on how ditching on one's sister is not nice. You didn't even introduce yourself to the two guys who were looking at you, not knowing what to do.

"Like dude, where were you?! I texted you and called you, but apparently you were inviting two strangers to talk about that Hotline Bling dude! Also who invites a stranger home— did you forget that you were almost kidnapped because you didn't listen to Mom's stranger danger lecture—"

"Y/N, there is a pint of Cookies and Cream ice cream next to the ice cubes in the freeze—" You smiled instantly and ran excitedly to the freezer.

The two 'strangers' were left agape that it took you food to earn your silence.

"Hotline Bling dude is crazy..." One of the two guys with a chiseled face and thin lips, laughed as you approach them.

"Moon Kevin, right? Second-year student? Photography?" He nodded with a chill attitude.

"Yes, ma'am!"

The other boy with a face with racoon features took the remote and continued the fanmade lyric video from Youtube that they left paused as everybody sat with their snacks in hand.

As they exclaimed "Owww!" at the rap punchlines, you noticed how quick the three clicked. How they sounded like longtime best friends reunited. You shook your head at their silliness as you watched the video in silence. At least you were in peace knowing that Eric would be in fate's good hands.

[5:37 P.M. | Week 3]

Okay... maybe you spoke too soon. You were not in peace. Especially, since everyday they would come over to the flat. Something about the way Eric socializes decreased your social battery when you didn't even know who these kids were. Last week, Eric invited three more strangers to crash 'his' place, they were all your juniors! Not to mention, famous juniors! Not only that, they watched NBA games and F1 races at night, occupying your house like a public facility whenever they can.

You were in the couch, invited to watch along, but you kept your lips shut, since these boys were rowdy and you weren't into basketball. Right now, they were challenging themselves to watch the game with water in their mouth and whoever spit it out first had to pay all their part of the dinner your bank account.

Your phone indicated a message coming in with a vibrate.

Biological 'Buy 1 Get 1' : Y/N. Hyunjae said he wanted to come here, is that okay?

You turned your head to Eric, bewildered.

"You invited five people who I still struggle to name without warning and my knowledge, but... sure I guess!"

You went back to your meal and you swore you saw three Singapore fountains living.

"Oww! You see that, Reggie?"

"I see that!"

"You see that—"

"I see—"

"Beast dunk by the man, Lebron James! Y'all, Miami game night is getting really hot tonight! Take a look at that jump in your ESPN replay—"

"HOLY SHIT, I ALMOST DROWNED!"

"YOU SPAT FIRST!

You just knew the next thing they would do is to fight for no reason, and blame it all on Chanhee (He didn't even participate to the challenge, but Sunwoo would gaslight the guy to pay if Chanhee 'really loves' his friends. That kid really had to thank God, Chanhee really loves them and is an aristocrat's son).

As you reach for more popcorn, the electronic doorbell rang. Eric parkoured from where he sat to the door (a habit you learned he had whenever he's excited).

As he came back, he brought two bags with McDonald's logo.

"Delivery man?" Your brother laughed at squirell guy's question (you hoped his name was Changmin).

"Nope. The snack himself." There was another man behind him.

A soft-gazed guy with a tall fitted figure, broad shoulders and carefully-crafted cheekbones. Oh yeah, this snack needs a warning...

"Hyunjae in the house!"

You really tried your best not to stare too much that night.

[8:14 A.M | Week 4]

"I knew it!" You shut your locker door and saw your brother looking at you with excitement.

"What do you want?" He ignored your rolling eyes.

You walked to the end of the hallway, thinking that Eric was following you. Your feet halt as it detected loneliness by the lack of Eric shadowing behind. Turning around, eyebrows united... you dropped your neck a little, expressing the face of a person left hanging by an Eric, who was looking at you with a smirk and a knowing look.

"So?! What do you know?!"

He took a few steps to you, then he said.

"You know I'm good in chemistry, right?"

"You have 23 exes and you cried when each time you broke up. What do you mean?"

"NOT THAT KIND OF CHEMISTRY—"

"Ohhhh... right... Ms. Choi gave you an AP class for Chemistry back in high school when you blew up a project... Wouldn't that make you eligible to skip 2 years in Chemistry for your Bachelor's?" Eric clapped his hand together.

"Ditto! Now... The dean had let me skip two years as long as I've done two weeks of pre-requisites, so here I am, stuck with your second class of the day, I'll be in Chair 16!" He turned around and ran to the indoor field as he saw Younghoon, a fellow third-year who happened to be your math tutoring student.

"You left me hanging, again?!" You knew that pain in the ass could hear you from afar, but he pretended not to hear by closing his ears as he ran and disappeared.

"Fucking dickhead..."

You opened your phone which had your college schedule as its lock screen wallpaper. Second period will be with Professor Do in Chemistry.

[10:41 A.M]

Ever since the first week of the semester, the lab's door had a paper taped onto it, saying "Warning: harmful acid clean-up! No entry!" and a letter from the chancellor that, while the lab needed to go through some clean-up due to a very harsh acid spill accident, all students who wish to seek Chemistry credits need to go to the Classroom XI, a spare room unused, to attend lecture.

You were in the room approaching the front rows. It was a strategy to record professors lectures better and also to keep yourself visible when your professors take attendance. The memory of raising your hand and saying 'here' and still marked as absent when you chose to sat on Chair 52, two rows behind the student cluster, traumatized you as it almost made you fail the whole course. Thank god you could prove that you listened to the lecture, since most of the lecture weren't on your textbooks.

You saw that Chair 18 was occupied. Chair 16 and 17 were empty.

Letting your Converse shoes took pace, you let your blue backpack hug the shoulders of Chair 17. You then sat in the chair, imaginatively creating prank scenarios to perform human-made karmas on Eric for making you wait to long for what he wanted to say at locker hallways.

Oh, this going to be perfect...

You felt it from your peripheral senses that Eric was approaching the chair on your left. Putting an act of clueless human being, your hand reached to your phone on your left pocket slowly. As the kid beside you dragged the chair behind, he was about to give up his responsibility to bear his own weight to his chair... until the same hand you used to try reaching your phone went to the back of his chair quickly and pulled it.

"Ow!!" You were covering your face not to burst into explosion of loud giggles. Turning your head to the left, looking at the boy on the floor and you—

Oh shit— Eric what did you do?

You remembered Eric's jersey number for his basketball match back in high school, so you look at Chair 22 at the row behind your right. There he was smirking at you and waving. You gave him your panicked face; in response you received a shrug and 'not my problem' (judging from your poor lip-reading skills). You showed off your canine teeth and a middle finger.

"Let me guess..." Hyunjae stood up and fixed his chair, resting his pained butt on it.

"I'm—" Your face were burning hot like a stove, probably red like a tomato by now.

"A friend set you up, because you want to get into my pants. So, you pulled my chair..." It was like the world had a hand on your mouth for a second. You chuckled nervously.

"First of all, not exactly. My bitch brother, Eric, said he'll sit here."

"Eric is your brother?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Yeah, why?"

"I thought you were his girlfriend back in his house..." You faked a vomiting gesture. He laughed a little at you with a small smile.

"Back to the topic. Second... Is the 'pulling your chair' trick famous or something? You didn't seem surprised." He looked at you, mouth agape in bewilderment.

"You're not up to date with the famous students here, are you?" You probably looked silly right now, but your eyebrows were probably like a great horned owl.

"Should I be?" He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head while smiling.

"No, no! It's fine! It's famous, because I do that prank to all of my friends. Let's just say, it became a strategy for girls to get closer to me when I started being friends with kids like Juyeon, Changmin, and... your brother."

"The hell you mean my brother's famous?" Hyunjae raised his chin at Eric's direction.

"Judge for yourself."

As you look back at Chair 22, the two chairs on its left and right were seated by girls who were twirling their hair and touching his bicep. On the other hand, he kept looking at his phone screen while ignoring them.

"Morning, students! I will introduce the molecular spectroscopy this week..." As Professor Do went on talking, his words fade away the moment you heard the big, dictionary-rich words.

"The only thing I like about molecules are the periodic table thing..." The guy next to you murmured.

"I don't even remember half of it..." You turned to him.

"You don't? So if I say you're Beryllium-Uranium-Titanium-Ful, you wouldn't have a clue?" You shook your head.

He smiled a little bit, yet you couldn't read what the intention was for.

[11:32 A.M]

You and Hyunjae tidied your belongings to your own backpacks, as everyone else did. All the urge to scream and knock some sense into your brother was still concealed in your chest. Now that you thought of it, a question tickled the back of your scalp.

"I'm confused though..." He looked at you with pursed lips.

"Yeah?"

"Why weren't you curious about the set up?" He tilted his head.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not curious why my brother set me up with you?" Hyunjae let few chuckles escaped his lips.

"Judging by your answers... I believe, it was more likely he was trying to set me up with you." He started to walk to the door slowly, until his feet froze in the middle of it as he faced you again.

"And you know what? I'm pretty glad, honestly. See you tonight, Y/N." He walked away with another smile.

Your eyes were almost out of its sockets. Every nerve on your body was confused; whether they should be relaxed because the man was away, or they should still be tense by the fact that what he said just now didn't make sense? Honestly, you didn't know anymore.

You kept your eyes at Hyunjae as he kept going to the door, you saw that Eric was leaning on the door waiting for him. They both let their hand greet each other in their masculine manner. Then, Eric winked at you.

[7:18 P.M | Week 7]

There had been no lectures or assignments ever since Week 5 until Week 9. This was because it was yuletide. Eric kept gaining new friends and inviting more to your house. He had to keep a promise that he can only bring ten people to your house, as long he was responsible for having them as guests.

However, you gained a liking to his friends. They really were how you hoped Eric's friends to be; as funny as him, wouldn't make him feel alone like how he wouldn't to other people, and influenced him to try so many other things. So, the promise he made was still kept, but you don't mind if he couldn't keep it once or twice. Like sweeping up the floor at midnight after they went home? You don't mind doing it with him.

...Okay, maybe there was one more. Lee Hyunjae. That man kept inviting you to watch matches along, it was ridiculous! By now, you know which NBA stars belong in which team. He taught you how to play PlayStation games. Sometimes, all of you were there but only the two of were enjoying Resident Evil on the screen.

The second time you interacted with Hyunjae after you pulled his chair was after school when he went to your house together with you. You offered him a ride together with Eric, saving his 4,500 Won to go to your flat every day. From Week 4 to Week 5, the three of you had been doing carpool karaoke at noon.

From then on, little conversations and details mattered to Hyunjae. Once you mentioned that you love homemade popcorn and french fries. After that day, he came with a homemade popcorn and another day with french fries. Every detail about you that he caught were used as a weapon to unintentionally steal your heart.

He was... too nice for someone who was just Eric's friend in your life. Maybe that was why you decided to be involved when you were invited to watch a game together.

Now, it was 25th of December. None of the other ten boys went home to their hometown or families. It was a sad week for them all. They were homesick and so were you and Eric as you both missed your family in LA. Then, Sangyeon, who happened to be the only senior of yours that made it to this friend circle, said a Christmas dinner should sound nice.

So, there you all were, eating Samgyeop and the Saeng Galbi that you grilled. Everyone enjoying their Soju bottles with the rice accompanied by the smoky beef, laughing as you shared how Eric once was asked to be the guy to replace an injured baseball player, then going home and watched a baseball match with a man claiming to be the father of the injured, doing the service as a gratitude for Eric. Two months later, the man was on breaking news for car theft and being chased by the police for six hours straight.

After the dinner, everyone opened up their presents. You were given a few things by these boys, like a hat by Changmin with a note "I don't really know what you like, but Eric said your ears get numb when it snows. Thank you for letting us be a safe space to each other by letting us hang in your house every day! Must not be easy :("

You also got new headphones, because Haknyeon noticed your left Airpods was broken. For people who weren't exactly close, but always welcoming for you (because you welcomed them first), they were very considerate and caring.

You opened your gift from Hyunjae and there were three things there: a Chanel lipstick, a mistletoe, and a coupon for the arcade. You were worried for a second that the lipstick shade won't match you. You turned the case and read what the name of the shade was: '16 - Livermorium'

The thin coupon paper was almost see-through, you could see that there was a writing with a marker behind it.

Wanna bail? □ Yes □ No

You smiled widely at the words, you looked for Hyunjae as everyone was busy talking to each other, expressing their gratitude for the gifts received. You saw Hyunjae leaning near the vestibule, already looking at you. The grin in your face widened and you nodded. He smiled as you both stepped quietly out the room.

"Y/N! Thank you for the new jacket!! You don't know how much I wanted this kind—" Jacob was about to hug you but he noticed you and Hyunjae were taking your shoes to go outside quietly.

You both looked up at Jacob, frozen and you panicked a little. However, Jacob gave a gentle smile instead. He reached to his pocket and tossed Hyunjae his Kawasaki keys.

"Y'all go! I'll cover for you."

[7:49 P.M]

The two of you were in giggles as you scored thirty points in the timed basketball game, while Hyunjae scored more but since his hoop didn't detect the ball passing through, he was still at zero.

"I won!" He rolled his eyes while curving his lips to a crescent, exposing the white on his teeth and the red in his cheeks.

Suddenly, a light bulb was lit inside that wrinkly organ in your skull. You took a few steps to Hyunjae, looking up at him wearing the biggest smile.

"Hey, Hyunjae."

He looked at your eyes, hypnotized by those honey ambers. His own eyes gazing at you from your eyes to the corner of your lips. For one second, he was too drunk in you to even respond.

"Yeah?"

"You opened my gift yet?"

"Yeah... The perfume, right? How much did it cost?" He did not intervene with his eye contact that moved from your eyes to your lips to your eyes and your lips (on and on and on).

"127,900 Won. It's custom made, just like the lipstick you gave me."

He started to feel weak in this eye contact, as if about to give up and just kiss you already. His breath started to hitch and had no energy to do anything beyond whispering.

"Yeah? What did you pick for my custom perfume?"

"I gave the perfumer a sample of my shampoo, my own perfume, my lipstick, and the butter you use for the popcorn you make... because it smells like me." Hyunjae smirked at the sensual, yet the genuine loving manner.

"Is that it?" His right arm decided to hug your waist.

You swore that you almost lost all the shyness and the contemplation to kiss him right there right then. His left thumb reached your bottom lip, dragging to the end point of your chin.

"You want me to remember you with your scent?" It was your turn to blush and get drunk in his love.

You nodded with a shameless naughty smile. Then you let your chin rest on his chest as you looked up to his eyes like a puppy. His pupils began to dilate as he stared at your eyes like a king sitting on his throne looking down at a begging treasonist kissing his feet.

"I just want you overall..." You whispered as he chuckled.

"Mhmm? Yeah? Why don't you show me?"

Hyunjae noticed you took something from the pockets of your pants. It was the Chanel lipstick he gave you and the mistletoe. As you left a gap between you and him enough to put on the makeup in front of him, he took the mistletoe from your hands put it on top.

"Make my dreams come true, will you?"

"Oh what? Kissing you under the mistletoe like the Justin Bieber song you always play?" You both giggled, never letting each other's sights out of each other's sights.

"Not really... Kissing Y/N and nobody else but Y/N had always been the dream since the first time I saw you." You raised your eyebrows at him while smiling widely.

"...And my childhood 13-year-old dream that I had when I was hitting puberty." You couldn't stop smiling and laughing. You snaked your hand, holding the mistletoe with him.

"Gladly..."

You leaned in with the best slow, romantic pace you could ever think of to introduce the relationship for much more kisses to come. It felt like you woke up from the dandellion hills in the Garden of Eden. Felt so right as if nothing in life had ever wronged you. It felt like you flew out of your body, elevating to the outer space where you live among the stars, just floating.

You both gave yourselves some breaths to take in, letting some space between you both.

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why a radioactive element, Livermorium?" He gave away the same giggles he had been having ever since he was with you in that arcade.

"I might memorize the periodic table, but I don't know what the chemical elements mean... I just like the way you can have a code to speak with when you have the periodic table." You tilted your head at him in confusion.

"So what is there to decipher?" He grinned at your cluelessness.

"Livermorium in short is Lv in Group 16 of the periodic table... familiar?" You looked at him wide-eyed as if starstruck at a Nobel Prize genius.

"Chair 16, Chemistry class... Lv short for the word Love?" He nodded proudly, enjoying the attention your eyes gave him.

"Corny, right?"

"Very!"

That night, he confessed that he would really like to be yours and he had never had anyone else (and didn't want to have) other than you in mind. It might look like it was too fast but the chemistry you both had spoke much for yourselves that actually, you were both ready.

From that moment on, the lipstick stained not only on your lips, but on his. He wore it so proud he wouldn't even wipe off the red-pinkish messy smears on his lower cheeks.

[honeyjars-sims]

3.14 It Boy

Johnny walked over to the Production Coordinator’s office. She was sitting at her desk, her blonde hair looped into a messy ponytail. Her desk was covered in an assortment of papers and folders that she was rummaging through.

“Where did I put that? I swear it was here a minute ago," she muttered to herself.

Johnny cleared his throat. “Excuse me, are you Lucy Steel?”

She looked up. “Oh, hi! Yes, I’m Lucy, it’s nice to meet you! Johnny, right?” She gestured to one of the empty chairs sat in front of her desk.

Johnny nodded as he sat down. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Sorry I couldn’t meet with you earlier, but you know how it is. I can show you around, unless you’ve already seen everything.”

“No, I haven’t made it away from my desk. I got bombarded by Hurricane Lilly.”

Lucy laughed. “She’s a character! Well, we can start in the studio.”

They walked down the corridor and stopped in front of a security door. Lucy swiped her badge. “I’ll give you one of these,” she said. “You can enter the studio at any time as long as the red light isn’t on.” She gestured to the light fixture on top of the door. “Don’t let the talent or directors tell you otherwise.”

They stepped into the studio. Johnny was surprised at how spacious it was. “Wow, it seems so much smaller onscreen.”

“Yeah, we need a lot of space for the equipment.”

They walked past some technical equipment with lots of buttons and lights and stopped at one of the sets. Johnny recognized the blue couch from some of the channel’s videos. The wall behind it was decorated with memorabilia from popular video games. “This is where we film most of our gaming videos.”

She turned to the right and walked towards another set, this one featuring a long table with an tabletop RPG set up. “And that’s our Lairs and Llamas set. We’ll add more sets as we continue to expand the channel, but we’ll need to hire more people first.”

Johnny was taking everything in. It was surreal being somewhere he’d seen on SimTube so many times.

They exited the studio and Lucy showed him a couple of other areas—the editor’s work stations, the production design studio, and the break area. Everywhere they went was bustling with people, most of them happy and engaged in activity.

They made their way back to Lucy’s office. Everything seemed great so far, but Johnny still felt a bit unprepared. “Can I ask a silly question?”

“Ask away.”

“What is it that I’m going to be doing exactly?”

Lucy began to laugh but caught herself. “I’m sorry, go ahead,” she told him.

“All of this is just really new to me,” Johnny explained sheepishly. “I don’t even really understand what you do. Like what is a Production Coordinator?”

“Oh, I wasn’t laughing at you!" Lucy explained apologetically. "It’s just that I asked that same question when I interviewed here a couple of years ago. It reminds me of how lost I was back then.”

"Oh, okay." Johnny let out a small breath of relief.

“So basically," Lucy continued. "I run interference between the Producer and the other departments to make sure everyone has the information and materials they need and everything is on schedule. I’m involved throughout the whole process, from researching ideas for new content to providing feedback on videos in post-production.”

“Wow, that sounds like a lot.”

“It can be. But having you here will be a big help. Your main duties will be delivering messages, keeping inventory of materials, helping with set up, and resolving minor issues during filming. That’ll cut down a lot of the running around I’m doing.”

“So I'll be the go-between for the go-between," Johnny quipped. I guess that’s pretty much what I expected.” He recalled what Lilly told him earlier.

As though she could read his mind, Lucy added, “It won’t be just running errands, though. I’ll need your help with researching ideas and bringing them to life on set. That’s one of the reasons we hired you. Damien called you ‘an innovative thinker.’”

Johnny was flattered. “He said that?”

“He did. That’s quite a big compliment coming from him. If you prove him right, you won’t be stuck as a PA for long.”

Johnny tried to quiet the voice inside his head, the one that was telling him this was all too good to be true. How could a successful CEO see potential in him? Could he really go from doing lines in a dingy bar only a few weeks ago to making a name for himself in the world of digital media production?

If Damien and Lucy could believe in him, maybe he could get there too.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers pt. 9

A/N: Apparently I wrote two chapters of smut back to back so uhhh.. here's a second chapter of terribly written smut. Anyway sorry for the delay in posting schedule for like.. two weeks. I don't have much of an excuse, as most of this was already written in advance, just briefly editing before posting. But I moved recently, and there was some roommate drama with moving out, and just in general moving bullshit. Plus my last job was refusing to cooperate with my ADA (despite the fact that doing so landed me in the hospital for a fucking week...) so I fortunately was able to land a new job that's hybrid. However I did just start it so like.. super busy with training and getting settled in to the new place. Plus trying to make sure I dedicate time to my gf since we're on different continents so like.. timezones are a bitch lol.

Gif not mine, as always

Trigger Warnings: Smuttttttt. Horribly written smut.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-8 here

The next few days were absolute bliss for you. You were certain of your feelings for the former Avenger and knew that she felt the same way about you. This newfound confidence allowed you to freely express your affection. While you had been somewhat clingy in the past, you had never been this openly affectionate before with anyone, always afraid it would be used against you somehow.

As usual Wanda would cook for both of you, and with your desire to be closer to her at the forefront of your mind, you would inevitably find a way to snuggle into her arms, even if it wasn’t per se the most convenient. Wanda had already reassured you she didn’t mind, always welcoming any chance to be close to you. Now was one such example. Letting out a sigh as she wrapped one arm around you and kissed the top of your head. While she stirred the food, you tilted your head and gazed happily at the slightly taller woman who held you.

Curious green eyes observed you thoughtfully, wondering what brought on this bout of cuddliness. Seizing the opportunity with the witch's face so close to yours, you leaned up and gave Wanda a chaste kiss on the lips before burying your blushing face in her chest. The older woman chuckled softly at how adorably shy you were and embraced you even tighter.

While eating and conversing, you found yourself insisting on maintaining physical contact with the witch. Thighs brushing against each other, and at one point you were feeling particularly bold and rested your hand on her thigh. The witch couldn't be happier about this development and even going so far as to lace her fingers with yours, bringing a contented smile to your face. At one point, Wanda could swear that you were wiggling in place while she was playing with your hair. As she subtly glanced behind you, she half expected to find a tail wagging there. It was only a mild disappointment there wasn’t. 

The definition of golden retriever girlfriend, you were such a puppy, and it was adorable. It seemed like you couldn't get enough, following Wanda around the house and even the grounds whenever she got up to take care of things. Despite her reassurances that you could continue whatever activity you were engaged in, you were insistent upon helping. Every step of the way, you offered your assistance, basking in the witch’s presence and happy to be helpful. Whenever your skin happened to touch, even briefly, a pleasurable shiver would run down your spine, making whatever chore you were working on even something as mundane as gardening (a green thumb, you were not) worth it.

Not once did Wanda deter your need for affection, doing her best in fact to reward it at every opportunity. Part of it was for her own selfish reasons, she always relished in your touch. A larger part however was an attempt to heal your inner child. She recalled your painful memories she had witnessed where your attempts at garnering affection from your family were rudely and oftentimes even violently rebuffed. This caused you to believe that’s how all requests for affection would be received, leading you at a young age to stop seeking affection from anyone going forward. 

Now, if you reached out to Wanda, she would return your touch reassuringly, even going so far sometimes to pull you into an embrace or press her lips to yours. The witch never wanted you to question whether she would accept your touch ever again. Anything she could do to associate positive feelings with your attempts at affection, Wanda would give. Every time she did, she was rewarded when you practically vibrated with happiness in her arms.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe and dare you say it, happy. Wanda truly was everything you could ever hope for in a partner: devoted, caring, and attentive. You weren’t sure whether it was her magic, or simply how attuned she was to you - seeming to anticipate your wants and needs almost before you yourself even realized them. It had been this way before you two had slept together, but something about this added layer of trust and intimacy you never in your wildest dreams believed you could be lucky enough to experience, enhanced your connection with the witch.

Attributing this factor to why you were so needy for any scrap of attention from the older woman, you were positively thrilled any time she so much as looked at you. Which, admittedly, was often. Whenever your insecurities raised their ugly heads, darkly whispering that you were going to get on Wanda’s nerves if you kept up, the woman would invariably find ways to reassure you just how pleased she was that you were finally comfortable enough to be yourself around her.

The only thing you were really still concerned about was how Wanda hadn’t let you return the favor yet, so to speak. After that first night you both slept together, any time you attempted to turn your lovemaking around to focus on Wanda, she would redirect you, distracting you with kisses until, breathless, you forgot what you were trying to do in the first place. You never forgot for long though, and by the end of each evening you were beginning to think maybe she didn’t want you to touch her. Insecurities returned full force, you found yourself wondering if maybe the witch regretted taking things this far and was using this tactic to keep herself from unwanted advances.

What if Wanda was only continuing this because she realized too late that you hadn’t measured up, and she didn’t want to hurt your feelings after going so far in her promises to you that she wanted you no matter what? Maybe she was stalling until she could find a way to extricate herself from this situation?

Knowing the woman was a mind reader, you fought valiantly to keep these thoughts buried as much as you could. By the fourth night though, it was taking a toll on you mentally. The pair of you were cuddling after she had provided you with another set of mind-blowing orgasms, Wanda periodically peppering your face with sweet kisses.

As always, the witch could sense your change in demeanor. “What is it, detka? I see your mind working a hundred miles an hour from here.”

Using her thumb the older woman gently smoothed out the crease on your forehead, before kissing the same spot, the key indicator you had been lost in thought. Your heart twisted traitorously, and you tried to escape instead in relishing in the sweetness of her behavior, fearing it may possibly be the last time she ever does so. It’s not that you were dying to know, per se, but rather that you loved her so much and if she wasn’t happy with you, you wanted to know. Either so you could fix it, or free her from her supposed obligation to you. Even if… even if that would break you, knowing in your heart that you loved her and couldn’t bear the thought of holding her to you out of mere obligation when she could have the opportunity to find happiness elsewhere.

A deep exhale was released from you prior to you looking up at her, eyes filled with vulnerable honesty. Your voice was meek, clearly dreading the answer but needing to know at the same time. “Why won’t you ever let me touch you?”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to furrow her brow in thought, trying to figure out where your thoughts were at. “What do you mean, lyubov moya? You’re touching me right now.” The redhead placed her hand atop yours on her chest, giving it a brief squeeze, to emphasize her point.

To add to your dread, now your stomach flipped with anxiety at having to explain yourself.

"I- when... when we're in bed, anytime I try to... touch you, you turn it around back on me. Do you not want me to touch you? Do you..." you gulped. "Do you regret what's happened between us? Am I not living up to your expectations? If it's something I can fix, Wanda, I like you too much not to try. But I can't fix what I don't know is broken. Or, I mean, it’s totally okay" It wasn’t. “If you’ve changed your mind, if you don’t want me, you don’t have to pretend.”

Green eyes turned glassy with tears as they widened in surprise. Oh, her poor kotenok, how had Wanda not realized how her behavior was making you feel? All she wanted was to love you and take her time savoring you after waiting so long to be with you again. She just hadn't wanted for you to feel pressured to reciprocate her advances. Knowing you had always been a tender-hearted person who needed to be eased into things, Wanda wished she had realized it sooner. She had never meant to hurt you; in fact, that was the opposite of what she wanted with you. As if she could ever not want you. As if the mere thought of ever letting you go didn’t make her want to burn the entire multiverse to the ground in grief. 

"Oh dorogaya, no! I'm so sorry for making you feel that way, it wasn't my intention. It's just... I've waited so long for you, Y/N. I only wanted to cherish our time together. I didn't want to pressure you into doing anything you weren't ready or didn't want to do. That doesn't mean I don't want you to touch me, my love. In fact, it's quite the opposite, I can't wait for you to touch me, sweetheart." By the end of her declaration, her voice had become considerably lower.

The witch leaned into your personal space until her forehead was resting gently against yours. She closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the closeness, before she opened them to look deeply into your eyes, willing you to understand the seriousness of what she was about to tell you.

“I love you, Y/N. So much. If you want to touch me, if you feel ready for that, I promise that I won’t turn you away again. Alright malyshka? I just didn’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you weren’t ready for. You mean too much for me to rush what we have for mere physicality. I have waited so long for you lyubov moya, and if you needed I would continue to wait forever. I never meant to hurt you. I want you so much I feel like my body aches for you, but I never wanted to push you, in case you weren’t ready. I’m sorry that in doing so I was making you feel unwanted, that’s absolutely not the case. Please Y/N, tell me you understand tha-”

You interrupted Wanda’s rambling, eagerly pressing your lips against hers. Your hand, previously resting on her chest, now gripped her shirt, pulling her closer to you. The surprise on the former Avenger's face was evident. The passionate intensity of your kiss ignited a strong desire within her, causing her arms to wrap around the back of  your neck as you practically threw yourself on top of her.

Although initially frenzied, the kiss simmered slowly and sensual. While you were excited to finally have the opportunity to touch Wanda the way you had been dreaming of (far longer than you were even willing to admit to yourself), you didn't want to rush it, still nervous having never done this before. One of your hands that had been clutching her shirt to keep her close, gently slid up to cup her cheek, savoring the feeling of her soft skin against your hand.

Briefly, you pulled away to catch Wanda's eyes with a silent question, your thumb grazing across the apple of her cheek softly. Feeling warmed that you wanted to check in, the witch tightened her arms that were behind your neck and nodded. You leaned in again, and as your lips met hers, you gently took her lower lip between yours, sucking on it, eliciting a deep moan from her. As the kiss deepened, Wanda's hand wound itself in your hair, nails lightly scratching your scalp. The older woman was willing to let you do anything, as long as she could ensure that you stayed close to her at all times.

Unhurriedly you trailed your lips down Wanda's jawline, leaving a series of soft kisses along her skin. Your hands started to explore her body, tracing the curves and contours that you had longed to touch. Wanda's breath hitched as your fingertips danced across sensitive areas, sending shivers down her spine.

As your lips continued their journey, you found yourself exploring every inch of Wanda's body, relishing the taste and texture of her skin. Hands moving with a blend of tenderness and desire, expressing your love and admiration for her. Breathy moans filled the air, a delightful melody to your ears, as Wanda eagerly responded to your touch. Lips caressing the swell of Wanda's breasts, moving from one to the other before settling on one to worship. With tentative strokes of your tongue, you swirled around and then across the hardened bud of her nipple, eliciting a groan from the witch that caused your core to clench around nothing.

For a few days now, your fantasies revolved around finding out if Wanda tasted as good as she looked. Said fantasies were coming to fruition, and you practically couldn’t wait. Replacing your lips with your hand as you lowered yourself down her body, leaving hot, wet kisses down her abdomen til you were situated comfortably between her legs. You were greeted with a mouthwatering sight - evidence of her pleasure slicked down her thighs, dripping onto the bed. Gods, this was all for you? Because of you? You did this to her, no one else. You bet she tasted divine, nectar of the fucking gods. 

Unintentionally you spent so long staring, that if your flattering thoughts hadn’t been so loud, Wanda would have felt self-conscious. Seeming to snap out of your reverie, you raised your eyes to capture the witch’s gaze, looking for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Sensing none, you lowered your lips to press a soft kiss to the hood of her clit, listening as Wanda’s voice caught in a small gasp.

Never breaking eye contact, you ran a cursory swipe of your tongue over her folds. Your eyes fluttered shut as both you and Wanda moaned in unison - Wanda from the sensation of your tongue on her most intimate area, and you from the delicious taste. It had a slight tanginess, with a unique flavor that belonged solely to Wanda. In that moment, you knew that if you were ever on death row, she would be your choice for a last meal. Nothing would ever compare to the taste of her, and you were certain you would never be able to get enough.

You eagerly immersed yourself in Wanda's essence, like a woman starved. Paying close attention to every detail that elicited delightful sounds from her lips, you memorized them for future reference. Although you may have lacked practical experience, your enthusiasm and ability to learn quickly more than compensated for it.

Wanda's moans and whimpers were soon reaching their peak as her thighs tightly wrapped around your head. Aware that she was close, you took her pearl into your mouth and gently sucked on it while flicking your tongue against it over and over again. Sharp nails dug into your scalp as she held you firmly in place, urging you not to stop. Despite feeling a bit lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, you had no intention of stopping, not that you could with her ankles locked behind your head.

A broken cry escaped from Wanda as she climaxed, her thighs trembling near your ears. You eagerly licked up her slick, relishing in the signs of her pleasure as she reached her peak. Wanting to explore something different, you positioned your index and middle fingers at her entrance, feeling it contract around nothing, and effortlessly slid them inside.

You groaned as you were enveloped in her tight heat, feeling her clenching around the new intrusion. Recalling how she had made you see stars, you began curling your digits, looking for that spongy spot, all the while never letting up on your tongue’s ministrations. The redhead all but screamed as her first orgasm slammed head long into a second one with no time to breathe in between. Her core was spasming around you, practically drawing you in, and fuck if this wasn’t the hottest experience of your entire life.

If Wanda hadn't gently tapped your head, pulling at your hair to lift you as her oversensitive body transitioned from pleasure to borderline pain, you probably would have continued until you were both completely spent. Deciding that while you enjoyed it when the older woman touched you but touching her was an almost spiritual experience. It wouldn't be surprising if this became your newest favorite hyper fixation, though not one likely to disappear anytime soon if ever. To avoid causing any discomfort to Wanda, you accepted her request and moved away.

Face completely drenched, you smiled, using your fingers to savor the remnants of her release. Both of you moaned - Wanda at the sight, and you at the return of your favorite new dessert to your taste buds. Breathless, Wanda chuckled at the self-satisfied expression on your face and reached out for you to join her. Taking the hint, you draped yourself over her body, gazing at her with a love-sick expression. The woman didn't waste any time before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, her smile pressing against your lips.

Eventually parting for air, you stared into each other's eyes, before both of you burst into giggles. Her toned arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you relished her proximity. Tucking your head under her chin, a happy sigh released from you while Wanda hummed in delight.

“That was wonderful, malyshka. I know you were worried about “measuring up”, as you would put it, but I want you to know, you exceeded any expectations that I might have had.” Satisfaction dripped from her voice, making you feel content with your efforts. For so long now you had wanted to make her feel even a fraction of the happiness that she had brought to you. It brought you immense joy to know that you had succeeded.

“I’m glad I was able to make you feel good, Wands.” you murmured. “I like making you happy.” You nuzzled under her chin.

The former avenger chuckled at your submissive nature. You were so perfect for her, and you didn’t even know. “Darling, you don’t have to make me come to make me happy. You do that just by being here with me.”

She followed up her words with a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you tried to keep your happy wiggles as subtle as possible. This made her almost burst out with laughter. “You’re so cute, Y/N. You don’t have to hide your happiness from me, dorogaya, I would never judge you. It’s adorable.”

You hadn’t thought it was possible, but she had unknowingly wrapped another metaphorical magical tendril around your heart with those words. Raising your head to make eye contact, you gazed at her as if she had hung the stars. How could this woman be so perfect for you? Always knowing what to say, how to attenuate your insecurities, making you feel safe to be your most authentic self in her presence. Was this woman even real?

Although it was too early to utter those three cherished words that you never expected to say to anyone, you undeniably felt them in your heart and soul at this moment. You longed to express them out loud, but you held back. Now was not the right time. Perhaps soon, though. Instead, you gently pressed a pure, innocent kiss on her lips, hoping to convey the emotions that you weren't quite prepared to vocalize yet. Reciprocating the pace and pressure of your kiss, Wanda followed it up with a brief kiss to the tip of your nose, making you giggle. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, lyubov.” She conjured warm, damp cloths for the both of you, insisting on helping you clean up before taking care of herself. Once all traces of your nightly activities were gone, you cuddled up to the witch. You crawled back into her embrace, feeling comfortable enough to entangle your legs with Wanda’s as you laid practically on top of her.

Briefly considering teasing you but being unwilling to jeopardize your newfound confidence with her Wanda simply giggled, placing kisses atop your head, and holding you close. Things couldn’t be more perfect, and the former avenger felt her heart overflowing with love and affection for you. Using her magic, she turned off the lights for the night, murmuring a sweet “Good night lyubov moya.”

One day you resolved to ask her those and all the other words in her native Sokovian specifically meant, but as always, once your eyes began drifting closed, all thoughts left your mind. For now, you were blissfully content in Wanda’s arms.