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fatalitysficbakery · 3 days ago

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༒☙༒ The Secrets To Loving A Black Woman (NSFW Alphabet) — Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Black Fem!Y/n

genre: SMUT/somewhat fluff???

warnings: everything, i suppose.

synopsis: nsfw alphabet. duh.

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❝Your body ain’t forget me.❞⁣

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༒ Smoke is A = Aftercare.

"Come here, girl." Elijah sighs, arm reaching the night table to grab his cigarettes, other arm stretched out, and waiting for your presence by his side. He's utterly satisfied when you take your rightful place beside him, and he can feel your skin against his again.

Y'all could clean up later, right now he just needed to feel the freedom he'd fought like hell for, all with you by his side. "There ya go...That's right." He mutters when you're safely snuggled against his chest, puffing idly on his cig and letting the smoke flow out before pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

Smoke's aftercare usually consists of him smoking a cigarette with you in his arms, if tomorrow might bring more challenges — He was happy to hold you for tonight. He'd rather bask in the glow than think too much.

༒ Smoke is B = Body Part

"Hold on now, brotha man. I got my eyes on a prize, sho nuff." Smoke pats Stack's chest, a cat's grin on his usually neutral features when his eyes laid on his woman. The belle of the ball; looked good enough to damn near eat, and fuck, those hips.

They get him every damn time; he stalks up to you in measured steps, his hands immediately reaching for your hips when he reaches you, he pulls ya close, his lips hovered above her ear. "Remind me why I let you out the house looking so damn good, darlin'? Because shit, woman, I'm having my regrets."

Your hips. The man is obsessed with your hips; if you're in his presence, you're in his arms, and his hands are gripping your hips like his life depends on em to keep on breathin'. It's no secret that Elijah adores a thick woman; his hands are always restless when he's near you, but they almost always land on your hips. Like it's muscle memory.

༒ Smoke is C = Cum

Smoke has your body memorized like a fucking book. He knows what pace you like it, what rhythm, and just when to snap his hips to make you see stars. He needs to please you, so when he sees the familiar signs, the dance begins. Your eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows knitted, and legs locked around his waist, but he's gonna change all that. He needs to see your eyes. His hand that's now on your jaw, squeezes gently, and you know exactly what it means; you open your eyes, whimpers, and moans dripping from you like the most beautiful blues Smoke had ever damn heard. He feels his own climax approaching, but he's far too focused on you. "You know what you do to me, mama. Now let me see what I do to you." He whispers, hips snapping up into you, making you scream out his name like he was a God. There's a fucking gleam in his eyes when you start pouring over him like a fountain. He's so focused on you, he barely notices when his seed starts to overflow and drip down your thighs.

Okay, so, Smoke is a pleaser. No one can tell me any different. That's where he derives his own pleasure from, watching you feel good, and even further — watching you come undone from the pleasure. He wants to see how your eyes look as they glaze over; he wants to hear every moan, whimper, and every breath, but again...He wants to see you come undone. Needs to see your eyes, and if they're closed?

He's getting em back open. Usually with a jaw grip, sometimes a muttered "Open 'em." But he makes sure he sees you, when you cum. It's the quickest way to get him to do the same.

༒ Smoke is D = Dirty Secret

His eyes track you like a tiger as you cook, singing to yourself the music that flowed through the juke joint. You worked hard whilst everyone danced the night away, but that didn't mean you wasn't gone catch a vibe all on your own. Smoke saw the way your hips moved to the beat, the way you danced around that kitchen, and the Lord ain't have no fence strong enough to keep Elijah Moore away from you. "You look like yuh havin' fun over here, girl. Got room for another?" He comes up behind you, hands instantly meeting that golden spot, landing straight on your hips. He pulls you back until you can feel his muscled chest against your curves. "C'mon, boy. Now, you know I have work to do. Who you think gone feed all these people?" You protest with a smile on plump lips, but he's already grinning like a Cheshire, that Elijah. "A lil break ain't gone leave em' niggas famished, beautiful."

You. You are literally that man's dirty secret. He's obsessed with you. I've said it multiple times. You are his addiction. Smoke, as quiet. hard, and protective as he is, is a loverboy. You being who you are turns him on like nothing else. Watching you work is his foreplay.

You're lucky on the days he's able to keep his self-control, otherwise, you'd never get nothing done, always being pulled away.

༒ Smoke is E = Experience

You weren't mad at him, you were pissed. You were pissed that he was back again, and you were pissed that you missed him. Like you always did. Protecting him and that twin of his wherever the wind took them whilst in your shop, too far away for your liking. "That all ya come for? A cook?" Your eyes narrow, jaw ticking; you need the truth from Smoke, nothing but, tired of being left behind. They say they staying, but the Moore twins had been saying that since they left for Chicago. "Whatchu want from me, woman?" Smoke steps back when you finally relax, and your blade ain't on his neck no more. He knows what you want, but he also needs to hear it. You were part of the reason he'd come back in the first place. "The truth, boy. Be honest for once in ya life. It'd do ya some damn goo-." Before you could even get your words fully out, he was on you like white on rice, and you were pressed against the nearest wall, his finger trailing down the wet spot he knew was under that dress. "I ain't never forgot you, mama. I loved you then, woman, and I love you now." He presses you even closer to the wall, his breath hot on your ear, "Feels like you ain't forgot me either."

There's no doubt Smoke is an experienced man; he's smooth, cunning, and charming. Handsome as hell, too. He ain't never had to try to hard to get a lil pussy, but all he really wanted was you. Found himself in your bed every time he'd come visit.

Moth to flame, like clockwork.

༒ Smoke is F = Favorite Position

"Look at her. Look at you, girl. Beautiful, ain't ya? Yeah, I know it." He tugs at your hair, forcing you to look into the mirror at yourself getting fucked into before he moved you over to the bed, and laid you back. He hovers over you, looking into those beautiful e/c eyes of yours; he grips your legs and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, adjusting his position, and grunting softly, sliding back into that soft heat only you seemed to possess. He moves your hair from your face. "God took his time with ya, didn't he...? Goddamn..."

Again, yes, AGAIN! Smoke is obsessed with you, yada yada ya, you get it. But seriously, he is. Any position where he can see your face? He's gonna take that over anything 9/10, whether that be fucking you in front of the mirror or having you under him.

He is so outwardly in love with everything that's you, he'd never be able to take it if he had to hide it.

༒ Smoke is G = Goofy

"I love you, Smoke, oh God, I love you." You whisper into nothingness whilst Elijah fucks into you, his thrusts slow and intimate, something he needed after a rough night, to make love to his woman? Oh, he's more than content. "Say that again fa me, ain't hear ya." His hand is gripping your jaw, eyes staring into yours, and taking in every expression. He knows what you said, but it wasn't gone hurt nobody if he heard it again. Your voice is shaky this time, he's hitting that spot that he knows makes you insane, and he knows exactly what he's doing. He's doing it with proper intent. "F-...fuuck, Elijah, I love you." You just barely get out without soundin like your mama ain't teach ya nothing, but that's still not good enough for him. He's biting back a smile, maybe even a chuckle, repeating himself. "Ion think I heard ya, sum ain't right...I said..." A laugh rumbles within his chest, speeding his pace up, "Say that shit again." This time, though joking, he was also serious. 100%. You knew it, even as you giggled along with him, moaning out a weak, "You're a bastard, Elijah Moore. I love you..."

While I feel Smoke is a tad more serious during the intimate moments, that doesn't mean there isn't humor...sometimes. More often than not, however, he's focused on pleasuring you, talking you through it.

༒ Smoke is H = Hair

I personally feel like both Moore boys are well-groomed. Smoke keeps his beard trimmed, and that means he also keeps his bush trimmed. He believes a well-kept man keeps a happy woman, and so far, you've proved him right, so why change the system?

༒ Smoke is I = Intimacy

Your eyes are kept on one another, one hand intertwined with his as the moon shines in on you. You were smiling tonight, hand on his damn throat, and you were smiling at him. He was stroking you slow tonight too, the after effects of a glass of wine or two, he just needed to feel you soaking him. That's all he fucking needed. His other hand is toying with your clit, and he relishes in the way you seem to seek his hand out like a vice, only forcing your pussy down on him even further; He wasn't complaining, in fact, the way his fingers moved? He was more than encouraging.

Now, as I've said, Smoke is a loverboy and a pleaser, so every moment with him, whether it be sexual or non, is an intimate moment, but if we're talking about sex specifically? He's always gonna be looking in your eyes, holding your hands, gripping you, and making love to you slowly.

On the off chance you catch him in a rougher mood, it's still with a slight gentleness to soothe the pain.

༒ Smoke is J = Jack Off

You were working, it was a busy night at the juke joint, and Smoke knew if he interrupted you right now, he'd be in for a scolding, not that that wouldn't make his problem worse. You made his problem worse. He snuck away to another room, the scent of your perfume clouding his every thought; he closes his eyes, envisioning you whilst his hand wraps around his length, letting out a curse, and grunting as he bucks into his hand, imagining it was the warmth of your welcoming pussy.. He has your handkerchief with him, wrapped around him, and aiding in his pleasure. Afterwards, he'd silently slip it into your hand, letting you know that he'd had enough with waiting.

Elijah really only likes you touching him, but on the off chance that that's not what he can have in that moment, and he has to handle himself? He does so with one of your items, your name on his tongue, and your figure in his mind.

After he cums, he becomes impatient for the real things, and that's usually when you get a cum-stained item of yours handed to you silently, and with nothing more said; the two of you usually slink away.

༒ Smoke is K = Kinks

His thumb presses against your lips, heavily suggesting that you open your mouth to allow him in, his eyes say the very same. When your lips part, his eyes darken, slipping his finger in and immediately probing around, pressing against your tongue, and seeming like he was a hellbent man on a mission, until... Smoke watches the drool finally seep down from your lips and leak down to your chin. He's addicted with the dumb look on your face, eyes glassed over, and pussy clenching down on him like a nice long hug. Fuck, he loved the sight.

Oral fixation. Man loves to look at you, he's addicted to your expressions, and wants to see you go stupid from pleasure. One of his favorite ways is having you suck on his thumb, or seeing your spit connect with his after a kiss, spitting in your mouth, etc.

Anything that had your eyes glazed over, and drool making its way to your chest? He's there for it.

༒ Smoke is L = Location

They'd sent you down to the cellar for more beer, but that ain't matter to Smoke, he'd been eyeing you the entire night, and the man was hungry. When you got down the stairs, he was already there, holding a case of beer. He smiles, grins real wide. "You come get this, come gimme a kiss. C'mon now, girl. Ain't nice to leave a man waiting."

Anywhere. Okay, maybe that's a stretch, some places are off limits but most of the time, he doesn't mind where he can get you...as long as he gets you.

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༒ Smoke is M = Motivations

Again, you were doing absolutely nothin that could've possibly turned Elijah Moore on; sitting there with a book in your hand, ya looked like the picture of perfection to Smoke. Just gorgeous, and it ain't never got no easier to be around you. "Damn precious, gotta stop doing me so wrong." He clutches his chest, moving to sit next to you with his eyes roaming every feature like he hadn't ever seen you before. "Enlighten me, Elijah. Far as I could tell, I was just sitting myself down reading." His hand grips your thigh, and suddenly you're being pulled closer to him without much effort on the soldier's part, unsurprisingly. "That ain't the damn point, mama. Where I'm sittin, looking twice as fine as the finest wine. That ain't right." He slides the book from your hand and tosses it to the table before leaning you back into the couch. "Just ain't quite right..."

We've been over this. Should I write a paragraph for this or just say the word "You", and hope you understand?

There's nothing else that motivates him like you do, just you; he felt it when you were just around him, looking so peaceful, happy, and comfortable. He liked the look of it on you. Hell, he liked the look of you. Just you.

༒ Smoke is N = No

Now, while I feel Elijah can get rough in bed, I feel like one of his biggest Nos is hurting you. He's not big on impact play unless it be something like a light spanking, maybe a little bit of choking, but he worships the ground you walk on, and he wants to keep it that way.

He could never see himself actually harming you; he's much more aroused by the threat of it. The tease. A knife to your thigh in the gentlest manner possible so you're not cut.

He'd consider gun play, after emptying it, of course. Even still. Elijah's hurt people before, it wasn't a pretty sight to see; He sure as hell ain't gonna hurt you, though. Never that.

༒ Smoke is O = Oral

He gripped your hair tightly within his fist, grunting as he gently pulled your mouth away from his dick, the spit shining on those plump lips of yours, spit and precum connecting you to him? Pretty fucking nice sight to behold if Smoke were to tell it, he could die happy. But that ain't what he wanna see. He was much more invested with what lied when you spread those thick ass thighs. You'd gotten used to the way Elijah pressed you back against the bed, and when he looked into your eyes with that glint in em, you knew he was aiming for one thing, and it was always worth the time. He pushed your legs open and smiled like he'd struck gold, and in his eyes, he had. He licked his lips, eyes darkened and blown with lust. "Ya ain't gone run if I take this here pussy from ya, are ya darlin'?"

It's been established that Smoke is a service dom, he wants you pleased and satisfied always, and if he took his own pleasure from it? So be it, but it was all about you.

He could cum in his pants just from sucking your pussy into his mouth, and that taste had him gone each damn time. And don't worry about him stopping after you cum, he's not stopping until he's satisfied that you're satisfied.

༒ Smoke is P = Pace

"How ya want it, baby? Talk to me." He frames it as a question, though you know it's not, he's telling you to speak up, and you know he's petty enough to stop if you don't. "Just...Make love to me." You ain't ever had to tell that man twice; he was ready to fulfill your requests each time. Eager to even. His rhythm slows down drastically, and pretty soon he's set a pace in tune with your goddamned moans, pulling reactions from you he knew how to get when hitting certain spots, exactly when he needed to. He knew your pussy better than it knew itself. "Look at that shit...Gushing like a slut, baby. I ain't never seen nun more beautiful."

༒ Smoke is Q = Quickie

You had 20 minutes before customers started pouring into the juke joint, and shit, Smoke only needed 15 when it came to you; when he pulled you into the backroom, you couldn't say you were complaining much bout it. You knew your husband, he was a stallion in ways that electrified your very being. You flash him that pretty lil smile of yours, and he's all gone. "Slide 'em down, sweetheart. I got 20 minutes to make your body do that shake fa me, and I plan on using my time wisely."

Smoke is an opportunist, he gone take that chance always. If y'all got a couple minutes to get it in, he absolutely doesn't mind trying. He just wants a piece of you at all times.

༒ Smoke is R = Risks

It didn't matter that it was a dark, starless night, that you couldn't see anybody for miles in the distance out that window. All that mattered was the way it made you feel, how taboo it was being bent over in front of a window, the risk of being caught by eyes below. — It was tantalising, and Elijah couldn't help but tease. "You get off on it, don'tchu darlin? I can feel that pussy squeezing like a vice right now. It get you off knowin anybody can walk past? See you getting fucked nice and slow?" He relishes in the way you spasm around him, his hand around your throat, your back arched, and the prettiest noises he'd ever damned listened to in his ear. "Let 'em see, baby. Let 'em see it all."

It's no secret; neither of the Moore boys was quite shy. In fact, it thrilled Elijah more than anything when he could get you like this anywhere he could. He feels pride in taking you where somebody can see you feeling so good...and all. because. of. him.

༒ Smoke is S = Stamina

He'd finished his cigarette off, ashing it before turning his attention back towards you. He needs to stop looking your way, it's what's gotten ya into this mess in the first place. You still look all beautiful, fucked out and glowing as your pussy leaked with his seed. Goddamn. He feels it in his gut, washing over him like that first glass of scotch. He'll never understand how you have like a little schoolboy without even trying; four, five rounds and still he was aching for more like he'd never left. Lord knows how he survived when he and Stack were still hitting licks back in Chicago. Now that he didn't have to wait, it seemed his body no longer knew how to. "C'mere, woman, put your lips on mine." He murmurs, a strong hand guides itself to your hip, and pulls you on top of him with little effort. He kept his body right just for moments like these, grinning like a Cheshire, he continues, "Want some more sugar." Your giggle fills his heart with something he hadn't felt in a while. pure unadulterated joy. "You always want some sugar." "Damn right." His hands move to grip your asscheeks, pulling you closer, "Damn fucking right."

When it comes to fucking you, it'd take a group of firefighters to pry Elijah off of you. On a calm night, you might go once or twice, but on those nights? — Expect him to be insatiable. 4-5 is the goal, and he'll soothe your pussy with his tongue right after.

Again, insatiable.

༒ Smoke is T = Toys

He has you tied up, hands and feet. You can see him rummaging through the drawers in the room until his hand lands on the right items. You hear him whisper to himself, and when he turns around, he wordlessly walks back over to you with a grin on his face. "You won't mind if I go downstairs and talk to my brother for a second, would ya baby? Got a gift for ya." Your eyes tracked him like a lion to prey, only you were the prey, and Smoke was stalking over to you like he'd found a new meal, and it looked quite divine. Wouldn't take him no time at all to get back to ya, but you knew it'd feel like hours; you could hear it vibrating as he inched it towards your entrance, and he wouldn't stop looking at you, scanning your every reaction. "You's a sick man, Elijah." You whisper, your eyes hold no fear or disgust; however, arousal lowering your gaze, he says nothing for a moment, slipping the black vibrator inside you, to his delight, your back arches into his hold, pulling the rope tight with a sweet moan leaving you. He chuckles in satisfaction. "Never claimed to be a good man, darlin'. Ya gone be good, and wait for me?" When she sends a glare his way, he simply grins, "I'm just messing with you, mama. Don't go causing too much trouble now; Ion mind changing the sheets."

Elijah doesn't mind toys...when he's trying to make a point, or gets interrupted. He hates getting interrupted when making you feel good so you're no stranger to him leaving you with a little gift inside you or buzzing against your clit.

He likes how needy, and desperate it makes you when he comes back; your body writhing with the need to cum. He likes watching you fight against your bindings, glaring at him with tears pricking at the edge of your eyes. Yeah, he could get down with a toy or two.

༒ Smoke is U = Unfair

How long had he been staring? Smoke ain't quite know, all he knew was that in the quest to keep you away from him, teach you some patience; he was ultimately torturing himself in kind. He watched you dance across that floor, and decided he couldn't damn take it no more. "Keep your face neutral and keep dancing, sweetheart. I'm just checking something real quick." You'd been frozen against him before his instructions to keep rhythm, the hand that wasn't squeezing her hip traveling up her thigh; she wasn't wearing panties -- Of course, he'd been the one to tell her not to, but it still got going how bad she could be at his behest. His pretty lil thing. He's got one goal in mind, and when he finds it, his hand tightens round your hip when you gasp, rising to your tiptoes with your chest pressed against the hard planes of his chest; he presses a kiss to your hair, and shushes you, his words whispered in your ear like a lullaby. "Shh, shh, shh...Don't need nobody hearing you. Just need a lil taste." He pulls you even closer to him, tugging his hand away from you when he finds what he's looking for. Makes sure you're looking directly in his eyes when he puts two fingers between his lips, the taste of you on his tongue making him grunt. — He lets you go. You're breathless as he disappears into that crowd again, the music grows wilder, and there's nothing to do except keep on dancing. Keep on feeling the blues till your face turns too.

Smoke is all about teasing, should be the man's middle name, and while you loved it too, there was a distinct pain in the utter vulnerability in the ways he teased you, but unironically, it was a pain you heavily adored, something you craved.

༒ Smoke is V = Volume

Your nails mark down his back, journeying in a path that stopped when your hands met his ass, pulling him closer and sheathing the man deeper inside your pussy; he stops for just a second, taking a deep breath because you, indeed, had him fucked up. He grunts, taking your hands and pinning them above you before his weight lays into you like a weighted blanket, and he's so deep it has you biting into his shoulder to keep from screaming out his name. He gives you leeway this time, lets you hide your face, too in ecstasy to care much bout anything else; a growl rumbles within his throat, a deep ragged murmur leaving his lips, "Puttin it on me like this...Gone...have my f..ucking babies."

Now, Elijah might not be much of a moaner but he absolutely makes noises, whether it be grunts, groans, the occasional growl, but most importantly...He's the vocal type. Degrading, praising, or talking you through it? Elijah does it all.

He needs you to hear how you're making him feel, very verbally.

༒ Smoke is W = Wild Card

What if Smoke had been turned into a vampire? We already know he's shameless, but walk with me...

The music is once again blaring and the vibes are high, but Smokes eyes are on you, there's hooting and hollering as you begin to step out of that little black dress you wore. His eyes were observant, protective, while he made his way over to you, loosening his tie as he goes; he's smirking. Your thoughts go south, wondering if this is really happening. You'd gotten them all turned once he'd died. When he came back begging to be let in, voice all sweet and southern and smooth talking like he talked, she couldn't resist allowing him in. He'd gone through their friends and family like a man starved, and now it was her turn. The rest start to wake up, reborn of the night, all while he made his way to you like no one else was there. When he gets to you, he sinks down to his knees and slowly spreads your legs. "Imagine, suga... comin back to a show like this. It's gone hurt a lil bit, but think about it...what happens after. It's worth it now. Don't you think, mama?"

༒ Smoke is X = X-ray

I believe Smoke is the more muscled of the twins; he's built and muscular, but in a way that's not too overpowering to look at. He's definitely leaner and a little bigger than his younger twin.

When he takes his shirt off, there's a 6-pack with a well-trimmed happy trail and bush meeting a caramel, lighter brown tipped 8-inch, thick in length. He's more of a grower than a shower, and is definitely uncut, me thinks.

༒ Smoke is Y = Yearning

The end of the night is what Smoke loves best, he loves it best because it's when he finally gets you behind closed door...alone. He ain't gotta worry bout the neighborhood kids, your friends, family, nunnadet. You were finally all his, and he could finally feel you real, and truly honestly sucking him deeper into the gushing pussy he'd been envisioning all day.

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….

And, finally….

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༒ Smoke is Z = Zzz

Honestly, me thinks that you and Smoke lie awake for a little, talking about everything and nothing before even attempting to get any rest. It's when you both debrief and let the outside world go before the morning comes. When he looks at you and sees your eyes shutting is when he knows it's time for bed, but other than that, he absolutely follows your lead on where the night goes after sex.

But that wasn't the best part. The best part was your head on his chest right after, safe and unharmed, and home.

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authors note: welcome back to the fic bakery! so happy you could make it to the reopening. my very first sinners writing and we feel good about this, don’t we? a lil smoke never hurt nobody.

- fatality/bubbles 🫧.

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violetwifey · 2 days ago

Text

UNDERGR★UND H★UND — pitfighter!vi x ex!reader

✧.* — summary ⸝⸝ ex!reader has been following pitfighter!vi for two weeks. on a fateful night at zaun’s bustling bar, they fiddled, they diddled, BOOMSHAKALA

✧.* — word count ⸝⸝ 1.3k

✧.* — warnings ⸝⸝ kinda angsty, smut, unsupportive parents (didn’t really get into details but they’re the reason why they broke up)

✧.* — nessa’s thoughts ⸝⸝ guys um…idk wtf this is, alright? it’s been years since i wrote smut so…this is all i got now. please don’t bully me, i tried my best. also, literally such a poor plot in my opinion but i was kinda horny so…🤷🏽‍♀️can’t blame a girl thirsting over THE vi, can you?

vi screamed after knocking down her opponent, raising a fist up in the air. the crowd roared. pennies fell down to the pit around her.

you stood still, smiling too softly for a place like this. you didn’t mind the stench of body heat, the loud atmosphere, the gory scenes that play out in the pit. you didn’t mind it if it meant getting a glimpse of her. tears pooled at the corner of your eyes.

you raised up your hoodie, covering your face as you pushed through sweaty bodies. you had to get out before she saw you.

you were perched on the bar stool, watching the green olive swirl in your martini glass. you missed her. missed the way she touched you. the way she had this soft, soft smile, just for you. her scent— earthy, grounding. did you really throw away something so precious? was it a bad decision? was what you did really forgivable…?

“fuck…” you muttered under your breath, chugging down your slightly bitter drink. the apple martini burned your throat, grounding you.

“rough night?”

your head shot up, eyes wide in anticipation. then your heart shattered. not her. “you could say that.” you mumbled, not caring if the purple haired woman heard you over the loud music.

“i could help you.” could she, now? you raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. “not in the mood. try for someone else.”

she scoffed, offended. “whatever.” she turned on her heels and stomped off.

you hung your head low, hair falling around your face. then you heard it. heard her.

“that was cold.” your heart stopped. then plunged into a race. you didn’t move. you don’t know if you deserve to face her after the way you threw her out of your house. your hand gripped the glass tighter. you had to hold on to something. or you’ll lose it.

“i just saved her a heartbreak.” you weakly defended yourself.

vi scoffed, throwing three pennies on the bar, whistling at the bartender. “give me your strongest.”

you finally found the courage to lift your head up.

your heart broke.

this was not the girl you remembered. sure, you’ve seen her new look in the pits. but up close? you could see every little detail— red-rimmed eyes, puffy cheeks (probably from constantly drinking), bruised skin, nasty cuts here and there.

the worse part? there was no life behind those once sparkling eyes. eyes that shone like the ocean when the sun woke up to kiss it. eyes that trusted you to stay by her side no matter what.

now they just stared back at you with nothing behind them.

“vi…”

her eyes dipped down. she missed it too. the sound of her name on your lips; the way it shaped when you called out to her so tenderly. vi’s breath hitched. her lips curled into a snarl. the next thing you knew was her deathly grip around your wrist, pulling you behind her as she took you somewhere.

“VI!”

you yelled out her name, walls tightening around her skilled fingers. they pounded into your squelching pussy angrily.

“that’s right, baby. scream my name.” she grabbed you by the back of your neck, pushing you down more, bending you over the sink.

the sight before you made your pussy weep harder. tears were streaming down your cheeks, tits hanging out of your tube top. vi held eye contact through the mirror.

“you see that? you feel that? feel me?”

you wanted to answer, tell her that you did feel her. but the way she curled her ring and middle finger just right, hitting the spot that had you rolling your eyes so far back you thought you could see your brain, had you moaning out strings of incoherent words.

it was pathetic.

but if this was the only way she would have you for now, then so be it.

“what’s the matter, sweetheart? can’t answer? can your pretty little brain even process what i’m saying, hm?”, she added a third finger, stretching you out deliciously, “pathetic. what would your prime and proper parents say, huh?”

“nngh…v-vi…i’m sorry—“ your apology got cut off with a loud moan.

“keep your half assed apologies to yourself. you’re sorry?”, she scoffed, hand leaving the back of your neck to pinch and toy with your clit. it had you seeing stars. you barely managed a nod, chanting out her name like a prayer.

“prove it. that you’re sorry.”

you hiked a knee up to the sink, willing yourself to suck her long fingers in more. not enough. you started thrusting back against her, tits bouncing deliciously in the process. “FUCK!” your vision started to blur, the familiar knot in your lower belly building up.

“there she is. my dirty little whore.” she praised.

“cum! gonna— ngh! cum!” vi smiled sweetly. her eyes, for the first time that night, shined. “gonna cum all over my fingers, beautiful? yeah? go ahead. let me see how sorry you fucking are.”

she drew fast, sloppy circles around your clit. that was your last straw. you came around her fingers, screaming out her name like it was the only word in your vocabulary. vi slowed her pace, stretching out your orgasm, letting you ride it out.

it was only when you whimpered and tried to writhe away, that she took her fingers out, getting impossibly wetter at the string of wetness connecting her fingers to your pussy. it was messy. it was perfect.

you came down as she cleaned her hands before helping you clean up. then she turned around on her heels, walking towards the locked door. “vi!” you wrapped your hand around her wrist gently. she could pull away if she wanted to. if she does, you’ll know to never bother her again.

but she didn’t…

she stilled, the hand gripping the knob tightening. “i…i regret it. truly. this isn’t a half assed apology, vi. please, just hear me out?” her shoulders dropped with a sigh. she didn’t turn around, but her silence was enough to let you know she was willing to hear you out.

“i fought with my parents the night they kicked you out—“,

“you kicked me out. not them.” she interrupted.

you winced. she was right. “y-yeah…i did… i fought with them after. i tried to make them understand. but they didn’t want to accept it. so i…i left, tried to find you. wasn’t really that hard. your posters were all over zaun in just a week. underground hound…,” you chuckled.

“i came to see you fight ever since. i always voted for you.” vi laughed bitterly, finally turning around to face you. “aww, you voted for me? aren’t you a sweet little girl.” she cooed mockingly before shaking her head.

“vi please…i miss you. i made a terrible mistake. please, give me another chance.” tears clouded your vision. you waited. and waited. nothing. when you thought this really was over—

vi sighed, thumb lovingly brushing away the tear that escaped. “jinx told me.” you sucked in a breath.

“she told me how you hunted her down and found her in her hideout on a stormy night. you were drenched. begged her to…take care of me. patch me up after fights.”

you did do that. you also begged jinx not to tell her. but she did anyway. and it was helping you now.

you blinked, waiting. “you really left your home?” you nodded instantly. vi laughed, a small one, but a real one nonetheless, at your eager response. “you’re gonna have to prove that you’re sorry, babycakes.” she whispered.

thank the fucking gods.

she’s actually giving you another shot!

you breathed out a watery laugh, throwing your arms around her. vi tucked your head under her chin, swaying the both of you softly as you cried and sniffled into her bandaged top.

“thank you, vi. thank you. i’ll prove it. i will…”

and when you both walked out the washroom, hand in hand, you thought that every second of those three weeks apart was worth waiting.

#vi #vi fic #vi smut #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi fluff #arcane fic #arcane smut #arcane

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phantomwithbreakfast · 2 days ago

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DANNYMAY DAY 06: Transformation

Day 05 • Day 07

⟢ TW/CW: This Animation Contains Flashing Lights / Strobe Effects — Gore (Disturbing Images). Viewer discretion is advised! This animation and one-shot is made/written to reflect what PTSD really feels like. (More under the cut)

Genre: Angst / Hurt / Horror • TW/CW: PTSD — Dissociation — Graphic Content (Medical Torture / Vivisection — non-consensual experimentation) — Emotional Distress — Identity Crisis • Scarred For Half A Life (phic), my head canon • AU — OOC

Danny stood in his room, bare feet on cold floorboards, the silence pressing in like a weight. His reflection stared back from the mirror—familiar, but… not. There was something almost foreign about the boy in the glass. Yet, for once, he didn’t hate it. He tilted his head, squinted, and gave himself the smallest smile. Maybe—just maybe—he didn’t look like a complete wreck today.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone. A stupid idea, really.

It felt like ancient times ago that he had taken a selfie. But today, something felt different. Lighter. As if the air didn’t taste like smoke and antiseptic for once. He wanted to believe he was healing.

A breath in. Shaky. But there was something soft about this moment. He wanted to remember it.

He raised the phone, adjusted the angle as his thumb hovered over the screen.

Just one picture. Just to remember that not every day is hell.

A stupid selfie—something to mark a day he didn’t hate his life. A tiny victory for himself.

The softest smile ghosted across his lips—brief, fragile. But it faltered, trembling at the edges. He tried. God, he fxcking tried. But even some hope felt like a lie when it slipped away so easily.

Click.

F L A S H.

He didn’t turn it off. The light exploded across the mirror, for one purr of less than a second—a reflection stared back at him that wasn’t his.

It was there. He was there. That room. That table. Cold metal straps biting into his wrists. Screaming—his voice, raw and desperate. His mother’s voice, sharp and clinical. White suits. White pain. The scalpel carving down his chest. Ectoplasm pooled, searing as it poured from every hole—his nose, his ears, his mouth, the open cuts. Burning him from the inside out—like he was leaking his very own soul.

The vivisection—his lungs, his core, the wet, sickening sound of his insides being pried open. Electric shocks ripping through him, leaving jagged scars across his skin, his face. His body jerking, seizing. Helpless. Exposed. Stripped of everything—dignity, safety, humanity. Just… meat under a microscope.

Danny didn’t register the transformation. Suddenly, Phantom stared back—shoulders stiff, eyes blown wide, chest rising too fast. Phantom took over when Danny was too shattered to stand. Phantom kept the body breathing while Danny’s mind was stuck reliving his own dissection.

His hand gripped the phone. He couldn’t breathe. He was shaking, couldn’t feel the ground beneath him. He wasn’t in his room anymore. He wasn’t now. He was then, again.

A breath. Shallow. Sharp. Coming back to present.

He looked down. The photo showed his soft smile. But he wasn’t smiling. He didn’t even feel real.

Everything was fine.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

Everything is fine.

But his throat burned. His skin felt too tight. The phantom pain still whispered under his ribs, behind his eyes.

Nothing was fine.

It never had been.

He crouched to the floor, arms wrapping around his chest, clutching the place they’d cut him open. The place they said it didn’t belong to him. The place he wasn’t allowed to own.

He wanted to scream.

But even now, even here, he was too afraid to make a sound.

The mirror was still there, his own reflection. And that… that was the worst part.

Because he wasn’t sure… which version was real anymore.

⟢ No, I’m not going to show the disturbing image from the animation. It’s—just… no. If you really want to see it, pause the video at that exact moment. I gave Trigger Warnings, so don’t come after me! (:

⟢ Even I find it really disturbing—and I’m a horror / angst / whump fan. Maybe, it’s because it’s Danny, I don’t know. Almost my whole blog is about Danny angst, lol.

⟢ The boy deserves better. He deserves a warm, grounding hug—wrapped up safe in a blanket like a burrito, held tight until the shaking stops. But we wouldn’t want to do that if there wasn’t a reason behind it—so we write angst phics and make angst art. We break him first… so the comfort means something. Poor Danny!

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moonchild9350 · 1 day ago

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Beyond the Stars

summary: hyunjin: your protector, your celestial spirit. Hyunjin: your peace and serenity in this journey called life.

pairing: celestial spirit hyunjin x fab!reader

genre: zodiac/celestial au, fantasy au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

wc: 19.6k

warnings: clit play, unprotected sex (don’t), creampie, masturbation, painting in the nude, nightmares, magic, other things that i do not want to spoil as it's essential for the plot

notes: this is my longest fic yet omg. i've poured my heart out into this over the last few weeks and i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it. i'd love to hear your feedback-don't be shy! happy reading :)

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost my work elsewhere without my permission. ©️moonchild9350 (2025)

general masterlist

Ever since you were little you were tormented by your dreams, the intricacies and complexity of the darkness that plague the back of your mind, often leaving you to wake in a fright with tears streaming down your face. You’d clutch your stuffed owl close to your body for comfort and seek out your mother down the hall who was most likely sitting by the fire, chanting soft spells over her work.

You’d sit on the cushion she’d set out for you, the one with stars and the moon which you loved so much. One because it was beautiful and soft and you’d like to run your fingers through the fluff, the sensation akin to silk. But also you could watch and listen to your mother, your eyes widened in awe as her voice drifted dreamily throughout the room. It seemed almost magical as the air crackled with life and was almost tangible if you focused hard enough.

The fire in the hearth felt warm against your skin, the flames crackling and releasing sparks that floated into the air before disappearing. There was a soft glow in the otherwise dark house and tendrils of smoke from the incense that your mom burned every night rose to the ceiling, filing the air with the scent of jasmine. If you listened closely over the hum of your mother’s voice, you could hear the wind blowing against the wood of the house, blending in with the words that floated through the air.

You loved these moments as you felt safe in your mother’s presence, your nightmares briefly forgotten, that is until she notices you clutching your owl.

“More bad dreams my sweet?” She asks with a knowing glance, brushing off her nightgown and getting up to walk over to a shelf filled with books and trinkets.

“Yes mother.” Your voice softly rang out laced with sorrow and fear.

Your mother searched the shelves as she mumbles, speaking unintelligible words as she moves along. Her fingers glide softly over the textured wood as if they were dancing, the pad of one finger touching the blue book followed by the purple and onto the next. It continues until they pause at a particular box and she smiles as she takes the item in her hand.

It is an ornate box, decorated with veins that wrap around the corners sharply as if it is like a lock. Your mother strokes the lid as she gazes fondly at it. You watch as she walks over to you, extending the box out to you.

“This will help. It will offer protection whenever you sleep my sweet.”

She runs the palm of her hand over the top before prying open the lid and pulls out a beautiful necklace. The chain was littered with stones of aquamarine, amethyst, and black tourmaline that dazzled in the light from the fire in the hearth. She places the necklace around your neck and fastens the clasp, the metal and stones cold on your warm skin.

“This spirit will protect you as long as you wear it. Respect the power within and it will serve you well.”

You cocked your head at her words. “Spirit? But mother how is that possible?”

“We do not question the spirits, but accept their power and assistance in our daily lives. They can be great friends for us in this life. You’ll take care of it right my sweet?”

“Yes mother,” you murmured and touched the stones, enjoying how they felt rough against the pads of your fingers.

You thought you could feel the stones vibrate as if it were alive, asserting its presence now that it had a new owner. Grabbing your owl, you padded back to bed and slid under the covers. You thought sleep would not find you, but instead your eyes grew heavy and you slipped away in record time.

Since you were gifted the necklace, you were graced with peaceful dreams. Ones filled with fields of flowers and fairies and tea parties with your friends. As you grew, the dreams transitioned from ones of childhood to ones that are more fitting for the adult you now were.

You kept your promise to your mother and wore your necklace at all times and respected the power that resided within. You always felt like the spirit that was inside the stones was watching you, walking with you through life, their presence very much tangible through the necklace.

One day you questioned your mom about it, whether it’s normal to feel as if someone is watching you. She merely nodded and said it was the spirit merely there to protect you.

“One day you will be able to summon it.” She says this with a nonchalant face as she continues to peel potatoes for dinner. You found this precarious and you were a little confused as to how you would summon the spirt.

“Summon it? How?”

“Don’t worry my sweet, you will know when the time comes. The ways will make themself known at the appropriate time.”

You wondered what her words meant and how you would know what to do to summon your spirit; however, you trusted her words and let it go. You’d just have to wait until that time comes and meet the spirit who has been keeping you safe all of these years.

“What about this one Mrs. Lee?”

You looked at the old lady standing next to you who was eyeing one of the books you handed to her. She was reading the cover, thumbing through the pages, humming every couple of seconds or so as she considered if she wanted to buy the book or not. You knew to be patient as she was a regular customer at the bookshop, coming by often to see if you had any new books to share.

Lilly, your coworker and best friend passed by with a pile of books. She gave you a knowing look-one that screams ‘I’m sorry but you’re the best to handle this- and continued on her way, the skirt of her maxi dress brushing against the shelves of the shop.

“Well, I might as well get this one. It seems interesting.”

You hummed in agreement. “It is a very good choice. I think you’ll enjoy it very much Mrs. Lee. Shall I check you out?”

You walked behind the counter to ring up the book, adding the discount that you only do just for her. She hands you a couple of rod straight ten dollar bills and you take it with a smile. As you bag her book carefully, taking care not to dent the spine, she places a wrinkly hand on yours, stopping you in your tracks.

Her palm was clammy and you could somehow feel every wrinkle. The bright red nail polish she insisted on always wearing was neatly done, staring up at you with its glossy finish. Mrs. Lee was gazing at your necklace, her eyes intent on the crystals as they shine even though the lighting in the shop is dull.

“Mrs. Lee?” you question as you attempt to gently pull your hand away from hers but her grip only tightened as time went on.

You become uneasy as she continues to stare at your chest. You’re about to speak again but are stopped short as Mrs. Lee grasps your hand tighter and says, “He will appear soon.”

“What? Who?”

You’re not sure who the old lady is referring to and your confusion must have shown as Mrs. Lee shakes her head and let’s go of your arm. You immediately grasp the area she held onto and rubbed the skin, noticing how it was slightly turning red.

“Sorry dear, must have had one of my moments. Thank you so much for your help today.” She grabs the bag that’s on the counter and shuffles out of the shop, the door closing with finality.

You stare after her confused, frozen in place, watching as her tiny hunched over frame disappeared around the corner. You thumbed at your necklace and brushed a finger over it, feeling the slight vibration that has become a comfort to you over these years.

Pondering her words, you become even more confused. What did she mean he would appear soon? Was she talking about the spirit that resides in your necklace? But how did she even know that’s what your necklace is? She scared you for a moment and you’re not sure if she was really all there. Can you trust the words of an elderly lady?

“Y/n? You okay?”

You startled as Lilly placed a hand on your shoulder and looked at you with concern. You cleared your throat and dropped the hand that was clutching your necklace.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You gazed out of the shop again and noticed how dark it was getting even though it was still daylight.

A storm was coming which made you nervous, the turbulent atmosphere never agreeing well with your body. Twiddling your thumbs, you nervously looked around noticing the shop was empty. Maybe you’d be able to leave early and get home before it became worse out, so you could be in the safety of your home.

Lilly seemed to sense your unease. “You can go home if you want. Doubt we’ll have many people once it starts raining.”

“Are you sure?” You felt guilty for leaving her here alone just because of your foolishness.

“Of course. I understand how you feel when the weather gets like this. Get home and honker down.”

Nodding you said thank you, grateful for an understanding coworker and friend. Seconds later you were on the sidewalk, hurrying along toward your apartment, the dread you were feeling growing ever larger within. The wind had picked up some, so much so it wrapped around you, blowing your skirt around your ankles and your hair, in which you constantly were having to bat away from your face.

Your necklace vibrated urgently against your chest as if it were saying to hurry and get to safety. You were a block from home when the heavens opened and rain beat down on your body, soaking you immediately. Silently you cursed, disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to complete your ritual before the storm.

Your mother taught you at a young age that storms were not your friend and that portals to the spirit world were open on such occasions, allowing bad spirits to enter into the world. They flocked to women like you and your mother, latching on and tormenting you. In order to protect yourself and the household, she taught you a series of spells to cast, blanketing a barrier around the space and keeping the violent spirits away.

At first you didn’t believe her words, thinking that she was making up stories to frighten you; but you quickly changed your tune when one of those said spirits showed up in your room during a storm scaring you to the point that you had to huddle in the corner of your bedroom. You stayed there until your mother came home who seemed frazzled as she took in the spirit hovering over you. After that moment, you never doubted anything she told you again, even if it seemed extreme.

You arrived closer to your home as the rain picked up, fat drops hitting the pavement with ferocity. Once inside, you made sure every door and window was locked, shivering as you felt the forces outside try to force themselves within your sanctuary. You did not want to be tormented tonight in your dreams.

Since you didn’t make it home before the storm, you’d just have to make do with the locks around your place and the protection of your spirit that resides around your neck.

Once you were satisfied, you decided to take a warm shower to wash the day away. As the water cascaded down your body, your mind wondered to Mrs. Lee and how she warned you that someone would appear soon. It seemed an odd thing to say, especially out of the blue like that.

You quickly finished your shower and dressed in warm clothes before sliding into bed. Your blankets were warm and heavy, cradling your body just the way you liked. The rain pattered against the windows and lightening lit up your little room, casting shadows and tricking your mind into thinking something was lurking, ready to reach out and grab you. However, you shut your eyes tight and willed sleep to come.

The rain was soothing and you were warm and cozy, briefly forgetting about your predicament you were in. Slowly you slipped into unconsciousness, your brain entering that phase of sleep where your dreams dance around your mind. You come across a hall with doors each one shut tight giving you an ominous feeling. Something didn’t seem right as it was dark in the hallway with only little slithers of light peaking through the cracks.

Picking the first door to your right, you find yourself in an empty, dark room. Whether you were inside or out you couldn’t tell, as it was pitch black in every direction you looked. There wasn’t anything there, just emptiness as far as the eyes could see. Despite the still air, you felt a shiver run down your spine, the feeling familiar to how you felt as a child.

“Hello?” You quietly called out, searching for anyone in this black abyss.

Your words echoed and nobody made themselves known, that is until you saw a pair of red eyes in the distance. Large, beady eyes that stared at you hungrily, as if it were to devour you whole.

You attempted to run away but your feet were stuck to the ground, your body stopping short each time you moved. Looking up you saw a long, sharp claw reach for you slowly as if ready to strike. Gasping, you let out a little shriek and attempted to run again but let out a wail instead when you still couldn’t move.

Again and again, you twisted your body this way and that as the claw approached until it stretched out as if to grasp you and… — — Hyunjin found himself sitting in a chair, facing a bed that had a girl in it. He blinked his eyes a few times to focus better and realized it was you. The girl that he always saw through the lens in his home.

You appeared as you did when he first met you, small and scared of the unknown, of the place you ventured to every night. The only difference was now you were older, beautiful, like an angel yourself put on this place of purgatory called earth.

He pushed off from the chair he was sitting in and walked the short distance to where you lay, frowning as he watched you toss and turn, sweat beading on your brow and a frown on your face as you battled whatever was plaguing your psyche.

He reached down to push a strand of hair from your face, marveling at finally being able to feel the soft locks that he’s always admired within his fingers. His eyes noticed a tear forming in your eye that slowly traced a path down your cheek; that is until he reached out to gently wipe the tear away. He stared down at the pool of liquid on the pad of his finger, completely in awe of how wet it felt. Curious, he stuck the droplet on his tongue and grimaced at its salty taste.

Hyunjin wonders how he was able to get out of the spirit realm and into yours. The last thing he remembered he was fixing a flower arrangement in his kitchen, occasionally looking into the sphere that he uses to keep track of you. A friend of his was on the phone, yapping away about the new rules that were put in place.

He had just finished cutting the thorns off the roses when he appeared suddenly in your room, hands frozen mid-motion as if he were still pruning the flowers. Hyunjin glances outside as a rumble of thunder shook the house, your plates rattling in the cabinets. He glances back at you as you were still tossing and turning, trapped in your nightmare. He realizes why he was summoned, as if it were his job to protect you and protect you he must.

Taking a deep breath, Hyunjin placed a warm hand in the center of your chest over where his home the necklace lay. He felt a tingle run through his body, warm and slightly electric, a feeling he’s always liked. It traveled down into his arm, causing the appendage to take on a blue glow. The aura settled into your chest, glowing briefly before snuffing out, taking root deep within you.

Satisfied, Hyunjin withdrew his hand and stepped back, watching as your unsettled movements slowly ceased and your face smoothed out. Smiling, he felt a calm wash over him as you settled into your blankets, letting out a soft sigh that sounded like the sweetest chime to his ears. — — You thought you were a goner and about to be consumed by the creature. You closed your eyes and let out a yelp ready for the scratch of claws against your skin , the pain that would occur as they sunk into the muscle, and the wet sensation of blood dripping from your face.

Instead, you felt a warm sensation fill the space, its tendrils slowly creeping from the corners and spreading towards where you were standing. The darkness in the room began to fade away and a bright light replaced it instead.

You opened your eyes just to squint against the sudden burst of light. The creature was gone and instead replaced with a bunch of butterflies that flew around your head, emitting a soft fragrance that filled your nostrils and calmed you down.

Now that the danger was past, you relaxed into a deep sleep, wrapped up in the pleasant dream that now danced across your mind.

Tap tap tap

You scrunch your nose at the annoying sound that’s disturbing you from your slumber. Trying not to focus on the noise, you attempt to fall back asleep thinking it will go away. However, not even a minute later the sound comes again.

Tap tap tap

Irritated you open your eyes and sit up, blinking against the bright sunlight that shines through your windows. The storm has passed and a beautiful spring day has replaced the dreary weather that occurred not only hours before.

Tap tap tap

There’s the noise again and turning your head toward your door, you freeze at the realization it’s coming from your kitchen. Frozen beneath your sheets, you remember that you live alone and there should definitely not be any noises coming from your kitchen. Your mind immediately goes to the worse case scenario: maybe there’s an intruder and you’re about to be kidnapped or robbed or even worse murdered.

Carefully, you swing out of bed, cursing as the floor creaks, loudly at that, with the first step. You grab the bat you keep by your bed and creep toward the kitchen, ready to attack the intruder.

As you approach the room, the sound gets louder and more incessant and there’s a deep voice murmuring something you can’t hear. You take a deep breath and prepare to attack.

You got this.

“Who are you?!” You shout at the man standing by your stove who has since frozen in place with a spatula in hand.

“Y/n! Wait! It’s okay!” The man pleads holding up the spatula as if that will protect him against your weapon of choice. He stared at you, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“How do you know my name?” You were starting to freak out now learning that the intruder knew your name. Maybe you should have phoned the police before coming in to confront the intruder.

“I’m Hyunjin, your celestial spirit! I resided in your necklace.”

You lower the bat but only so, still weary of the stranger. Your celestial spirit? Reaching up to your chest, you grabbed ahold of the crystals in your necklace, feeling how cold and still they were in your grasp. That seemed odd to you as the necklace is always vibrating with positive energy.

This man says he’s your celestial spirit…but that would mean he is the spirit that resides in your necklace (which he mentioned), but that seems crazy. But then you remember what your mother told you when you were little, that a spirit protects you at all times and then you remembered Mrs. Lee’s warning.

Maybe this man called Hyunjin is telling the truth.

You take a moment to look him over as he returned a wary look, nervous that you would attack him with that bat. You won’t lie, the man in front of you was a sight for sore eyes. Hyunjin was tall and handsome, that much was clear. He was lanky but yet toned, which somehow complimented his look even more.

He was wearing a baby blue shirt with white pants and was decked out in jewels, his fingers covered in rings that seemed to pulse with energy. His black hair was long and slightly curly, the strands framing his face perfectly. It seemed so soft and radiant and you wanted to reach out and touch it, run your fingers through the silky strands.

Hyunjin’s face seemed to be one of a god: large, chocolate brown eyes peered at you and little moles littered the area under his bottom eyelid. His lips were slightly parted but seemed plush and velvety, that you wanted to reach out and touch them.

“Y/n?” Hyunjin murmured lowering his hand all the way down, “Are you okay? I scared you, didn’t I?”

Hyunjin’s voice was laced with concern and he slowly edged his way towards you as if to comfort you.

“I’m fine…just… confused is all.” You set down the bat and walked over to the coffee maker and began making your morning coffee as if the appearance of a strange man was just the normal for a sunny morning. “So if you’re my celestial spirit, why are you out here and not in the necklace?”

“I’m not sure…” Hyunjin said, his voice fading with the last word, “I think you summoned me.”

“Summoned you? How do you figure? I don’t know how to do that.”

Hyunjin merely shrugged and grabbed some plates as if he lived here and it was a normal occurrence and not strange that he just appeared one day.

“Not sure how it happened, but all I know is I was at home and then poof, I appeared here in your room while you were asleep.”

You watched as Hyunjin plated two pancakes for you, adding a dollop of whipped cream just like you liked and set it on the table where you usually sit. He grabbed his plate and sat down to dig in.

“You were having a nightmare, that much I know and I was able to calm you down and fix the dream you were having.”

Ah, so he’s the reason why that large creature went away and was replaced with pleasant things. You grabbed your mug of coffee and sat down next to the newcomer and eyed the plate he made. The pancakes seemed edible enough and your stomach growled as if to say feed me, so you picked up your fork and took a bite.

You groaned as the fluffy pancake melted in your mouth, never having had anything as tasty as this since you were little. “This is so good!”

“Thank you,” Hyunjin murmured and blushed as he directed his gaze downward.

Giggling, you took another bite thinking it was cute how he became flustered. You glanced at the clock and noticed the time, that you’d have to leave for work soon. Taking the last bite of your pancakes, you stood up and brought your dishes to the sink, setting them down gently.

“I have work today…I guess you can stay here until I get back?”

“Oh…” Hyunjin looked down at his empty plate, his face falling at the announcement. He’d hope he’d be able to spend more time with you, the girl he was destined to protect.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, feeling awkward at how crestfallen Hyunjin seemed.

Deciding to let him deal with the fact he’d be alone for a few hours, you walked to your bedroom and began getting ready, falling into your usual routine. As you turned up the blanket, you noticed Hyunjin standing in the corner watching your every move. When you fluffed the pillows, you noticed he was trying to inch his way towards you, a look of uncertainty on his face.

As you put your makeup on, he was right there with you, watching as you applied mascara, blush, and then lipstick. He attempted to follow you to the closet where you changed, but you stopped him at the door, telling him to wait. His eyes were large and he seemed so innocent, waiting for you to direct him on what to do next. Your heart skipped a beat at the prospect and you wanted to ruffle his hair and coo at him, treat him like the delicate angel he seemed to be.

Hyunjin nodded at your request and stood at the door, watching as you closed it in his face. You chose a floral dress for today, picking one that hugged your bodice, but flowed like water down your thighs. Choosing a pair of sandals, you then walked out of the closet straight into Hyunjin.

“Oh my god y/n! Sorry! Are you okay?” Hyunjin panicked, reaching out to steady you on your feet.

You shivered at his touch, trying not to notice how his large hands gripped your shoulders and the warmth of his hands seeped into your skin as if it were searing you.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, disentangling yourself from his grasp.

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing your bag in the process. “I’ll be back around five. Make yourself at home okay?”

Hyunjin nodded and smiled, “Okay y/n, have a good day.”

“Thanks,” you said and turned to leave, eyeing Hyunjin as he watched you leave.

The whole commute to work your mind was on Hyunjin and how he appeared out of nowhere. How he said he was your celestial spirit, the one who has been with you since you were a child. You couldn’t believe he was there, summoned apparently by you, even though you have no clue how that was done.

The bookshop appeared in the distance and you put the weird occurrence aside, ready for another day surrounded by your favorite items, books.

“Hi Y/n!” Lilly shouted from the back of the shop as you entered. “Look what came in today, that series you love. Are you going to buy a copy?”

“Of course! I’ve been waiting for it since forever,” you chuckled.

You set your bag down and clocked in as Lilly set aside one of the books for you.

“Well, here’s to another day…” Lilly moaned, glancing at the clock as the store was officially opened.

You merely nodded and grabbed a cart filled with books, leaving to shelve them back to where they needed to be. It was easy to fall back into routine, getting lost within the shelves full of books, the smell of fresh paper wafting through your nostrils.

The spine of a book always made you feel a tingle and you thought you could hear a whisper of the words within, beckoning you to open its pages and discover the secrets it has to offer. Books were your comfort as they’d never wound you or betray your trust like humans can.

As you neared the bottom of the pile, Hyunjin crossed your mind. Was he okay by himself? Would he still be there by the time you clocked out from work? The necklace perched on your chest remained silent, as it hadn’t vibrated since Hyunjin appeared, not that you expected it to.

Your situation was peculiar and you were eager to see how it played out.

You willed your shift to fly by quickly and fly by it did. As you tidied up the shop as it got closer to closing, you listened to Lilly chatter about some date she was going on later tonight and how she hopes they weren’t a prick like the last one.

You agreed with her statement, wished her luck, and grabbing your bag, you hurried out of the shop. One foot in front of the other, you weaved your way through the throngs of people on their way home as well. Your heart quickened the closer you got to home as you were eager to see Hyunjin.

Your fingers trembled as you inserted your key into the lock and twisted the doorknob, slamming the door against the wall as you burst into your apartment.

“Hyunjin!” You shouted, holding your breath for a response.

Dropping your keys into the bin by the door, you hurried into the kitchen looking for your spirit.

“Hyunjin-“ you were about to scream his name again when he suddenly appeared in the doorway to your bedroom.

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. “Hi, did you do okay by yourself?”

Hyunjin smiled at you and came closer to where you were standing. “Eh, I was bored without you, but I managed.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, suddenly feeling horrible about leaving him behind.

“It’s okay Y/n, you have to work. Maybe on your day off though, we can pick some things up that I can keep myself busy with while you’re away?”

“Sure, we can go tomorrow since I’m off.”

“Perfect,” Hyunjin grinned. “Now come eat, I made your favorite.”

Hyunjin grasped your hand not allowing you to mull over what he just said. He led you to the kitchen where you sat down to eat, your mouth salivating at the spread in front of you. The first bite was heaven, the chicken melting on your tongue as the flavors mixed on your tastebuds.

Hyunjin watched as you ate, happy that you were enjoying your meal. He found himself staring at you more often, even though he’s only been here for less than 24 hours. Your eyes told a story, one that he was all too familiar with since he watched you grow up. You were delicate, precious, like a bunch of roses.

You looked up and caught him staring, your eyes turning to curiosity. “Everything okay?”

“What?” Hyunjin was startled from his reverie, “Oh, yeah.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and continued to eat. Once you were both finished with your meals, Hyunjin gathered the dishes and placed them in the sink. The sun was setting and nighttime slowly seeped into your home, casting a honey glow into the space.

“I’m going to hop into the shower,” you said, already making your way to the bathroom.

Hyunjin merely hummed in acknowledgment and you retreated to your room, closing the door softly. The sound of water hitting the tub filled the room, steam filling up the small space within minutes. Under the stream, you contemplated your outing tomorrow with Hyunjin, excitement brewing inside at the prospect of going out with such a handsome man.

You weren’t going to deny it, Hyunjin is gorgeous, so much so he could be a model. You couldn’t help your mind drifting to his hands, long and nimble, decked out in his rings that glinted in the sunlight, to his plush lips that you’re sure feel like cotton.

A warmth spreads through your lower region, one that you know is not from the water that pounds your skin. Slowly you drift your fingers over your body, shivering despite the heat of the room. You circle your nipples, brushing over them before giving them a pinch, gasping at the sensation that wrecks your frame.

Lower and lower your fingers travel until they hover over your pussy and you let out a low moan at how your clit pulses, begging to be touched. You wait a second more before applying pressure to the bud, giving slow swipes until your toes are curling and you’re panting, lost in the pleasure.

You imagine it’s Hyunjin’s fingers that are playing with your clit, that brush over your nipples gently until they are hardened nubs. That it’s him pressing wet kisses against your neck instead of the stream of water that rains from above.

The pleasure builds quickly to your surprise and you chase after it, reaching for that pinnacle of ecstasy. Your hand speeds up and your muscles tense before you let go in a cacophony of moans and sighs as your body contracts and your sight becomes fuzzy.

Hyunjin’s name falls from your lips, perfect and delicate, as if it were meant to be spoken by you and only you. Your breathing is heavy as you come down and you felt as if you are floating, the sound of the water seeming far away.

Once recovered, you finish up your shower, putting aside your thoughts as if they never crossed your mind as it definitely was not something you wanted to deal with. — — The next morning, you feel something poking you over and over. At first you think you’re dreaming, but deduce that’s not the case as your dream was pleasant, filled with sweet things. Groaning, you turn over to the other side, thinking the incessant poking would stop.

However, to your dismay, you feel the sharp poke once more, this time against your back. Annoyed, you sit up and blink, your vision coming into focus to Hyunjin sitting next to you, a wide grin on his pretty face.

“Morning Y/n! Don’t forget about our outing today.”

You rub your eyes and yawn as you sit up and slowly wake up. The outing, that’s right. “Of course, how could I forget.”

Hyunjin merely smiles and runs a hand through his hair, the scent of strawberries drifting to your nose. The scent reminded you of your shampoo that you love to use.

Curious, you looked at Hyunjin, “Did you use my shampoo?”

Hyunjin’s smile slowly fades and instead he looked down at his hands. “I uh- yeah I did. I’m sorry, I should have asked first, but I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

You chuckled at how nervous he seemed. Somehow it made him seem more innocent and cute, causing you to want to smoother him with hugs and kisses. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. When did you use it though?”

“Oh! I don’t need to sleep, so I showered while you were sleeping. After making sure you were okay of course, I can’t slack on the job.”

His words shocked you. He doesn’t need to sleep? That is news to you. Suddenly, you feel awkward at the fact this man has most likely been prowling around while you were asleep.

“So if you don’t have to sleep, what do you do then?” You asked genuinely curious.

“Well, after I make sure you’re okay, I usually sit and watch you sleep…wait, that makes me sound like a creep. I mean I take watch, technically I’m working while you sleep.”

“Working? What do you mean?” You asked with a frown.

“Yes, I’m a dream weaver. I’m a Pisces and we are notorious for taking up a career in this field. I watch over you while you sleep and make sure the nightmares don’t take over your psyche.”

You pondered his words briefly before remembering how your mother gave you the necklace, claiming the spirit within would protect your dreams. “So you really are a celestial spirit, my mother was right all along.”

You said the latter more for your benefit, but Hyunjin hummed in agreement. “I’m all yours.”

At the last phrase, you felt a tingle pass through your body that was not unpleasant but quite the opposite. Hearing Hyunjin say he’s all yours made your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up like you were a school girl.

Hyunjin seemed to notice your change in demeanor because he giggled and reached over to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. “Okay, now that’s out of the way, get up so we can go. I’m really looking forward to where you’re taking me!”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting up,” you chuckled as you pushed the blankets off of you.

Hyunjin scooted out of the way to allow you to get up and watched as you moved around the room, getting ready for the day. He felt like he was in a trance as he peered at you, his heart rate spiking as you dragged your shirt over your head, just to replace it with a burgundy top, pairing it with a black skirt.

He felt in awe as you styled your hair, the brush gliding through the strands gracefully and the locks landing perfectly against your back. He breathed in deeply after you sprayed your perfume, admiring the scent of blackberries that permeated the room.

“How do I look?” You asked as you turned around for him to see.

“Absolutely beautiful,” Hyunjin murmured as his cheeks heated up. You really were the most beautiful girl in the world and he was proud to be your spirit.

“Well let’s go,” you said as you grabbed your bag and walked to the door, leaving a bewildered Hyunjin sitting on your bed.

Once outside, you walked with purpose, navigating Hyunjin through the busy streets. You yapped the whole way to the store, explaining the different buildings, and how you’d visit from time to time when you were a child. You explained that you lived in the country isolated from people, but occasionally your mother would take you here when she had errands to run.

You explained days filled with singing and skipping, carrying bags of herbs that your mother used for god knows what and ice cream cones that she’d buy for you two. You’d sit on the wall by the park, licking up the sweet treat until it was gone and watch the sun begin to set.

Hyunjin listened intently, enjoying the tales of your childhood. Even though he technically went with you all those years to the city, he couldn’t see what you were doing as his sight was only available at night when you were asleep.

You didn’t stop yapping until you got to a large department store, the windows filled with mannequins with trendy clothes. “Let’s get you a few outfits,” you said, grabbing Hyunjin’s hand and pulling him into the store.

It’s been a while since you’ve been in here, preferring online shopping to the crowds and bothersome workers, asking if you needed help every two seconds. The music always irks you as it seems so artificial and the smells of consumerism give you a headache. However, you are willing to sacrifice braving this huge store for Hyunjin.

You beelined straight for the men’s section and began to browse the racks, pulling out articles of clothing and handing them to Hyunjin. He obediently accepted the items, his arms pilling higher with clothes. Once you were satisfied with what you picked out, you dragged him to the dressing room to try on the outfits.

Pushing Hyunjin into the tiny room, you pulled the curtains shut, chuckling at the uncertainty on Hyunjin’s face. There was a little chair across the way and you sat down to wait for him to come out with the first outfit.

Hyunjin tried on each piece of clothing, modeling for you as he came out, striking pose after pose. He really looked great in everything, so much so you couldn’t help but feel a little envious. After viewing each outfit, he’d give you a look, something akin to him knowing a secret that is too delicate for your ears. You felt dizzy and a little sweaty all of a sudden, the heat of the dressing room getting to you.

Standing up, you clapped your hands in delight as Hyunjin stepped out of the room, the clothes he tried on in hand. You both decided to buy all the outfits, as they all were perfect for your celestial friend. Hyunjin whined at you paying for everything, but you kept shushing him, telling him it was your treat. Eventually, he accepted your statement, begrudgingly grabbing the bags to carry them.

The next stop was at the craft store at Hyunjin’s request. You’d never seen anyone light up the way he did as he stopped foot over the threshold. You had to jog to keep up with him as he made his way towards the drawing and paint supplies.

He piled the cart high with various shades of paint, canvases, and paintbrushes, which you didn’t mind as it made him happy and if he was happy you were happy. You paid for all of the supplies as well and then both of you walked back home, your arms laden with heavy shopping bags.

Once back at your apartment, you plopped down on the couch, exhausted from your day out. You turned the tv on and picked a show, locking in immediately once you got comfortable.

Hyunjin set up shop next to you, too excited to get started sketching. He pulled out a sketch book and graphite pencils and as he began to draw, you couldn’t help but relax at the sound of the pencil on paper, the scratching soothing as the show played in the background.

You stole a glance at him and smiled, watching as he locked in, his tongue sticking between his plush lips and fingers wrapped tightly around the pencil. His hand glided over the page, his movements fluid instead of choppy as he created a scene in front of him.

What was just a few lines turned into a bunch of beautiful flowers, daises by the look of it. You watched as he shaded in the piece, focusing hard to ensure each stroke was perfect. Once he finished, Hyunjin set down the pencil and let out a satisfied sigh.

He glanced sideways at you and smirked, enjoying how your mouth was hanging open in awe. “Wanna see something really cool?”

You merely nodded, not able to find your voice in the moment. Hyunjin ghosted the palm of his hand over the page and then before you could blink, a bunch of daises were in his hands. You let out a shriek at the trick, glancing down at the now empty page.

“What the fuck just happened?” You shrieked, completely confused at the flowers in his hand.

Hyunjin chuckled, throwing his head back in glee at your confusion. “Another one of my quirks. I can animate and even make anything I create come to life. For you my lady,” he said as he handed you the flowers.

You took them from Hyunjin and brought them to your nose, inhaling the scent of the petals. A soft, earthy scent filled your nostrils and you were in awe at how it smelled just like a real flower. You gently touched the delicate petals, feeling the velvety texture beneath your fingertips.

These really were real flowers. “Wow, that is actually really cool,” you gushed. Hyunjin really could do it all.

Hyunjin blushed and tossed his hair. “Yeah, it’s a nice power to have.”

He went back to sketching, starting afresh to bring to life a new design. You fell into a trance watching him, feeling at ease as his hand continued to dance around the page.

You leaned over, careful not to crush the daises and tried to see what he was drawing but when you looked at the page, it was empty. However, you blinked and a shape appeared much to your chagrin.

He continued his task, humming out a song occasionally. Time passed and your eyes grew heavy as you felt content and safe with the man beside you. You must have completely dozed off because you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and you were jolted awake, slightly startled.

“Can I take you to bed?”

“What?” You said, sitting up as you woke up a little more.

“Wait, that came out wrong. Not take you to bed but help you to…you know-“

Hyunjin’s words drifted off as he stuttered in embarrassment. The flustered look on his face made you laugh, his cute face becoming even cuter.

“I guess I should go to bed huh,” you replied and stood up, stretching your legs after sitting down for so long.

You placed the daises in a vase and filled it with water before padding to your bedroom. You quickly went through your night routine, more than ready to get in bed. However, when you came out of the bathroom, you stopped in your tracks as your heart skipped a beat. Hyunjin reclined against one of your pillows, his hoodie pulled over his head. At your entrance he broke out into a smile.

“Join me Y/n,” he said.

You hesitated for a moment, not sure if you really wanted to sit with him. Hyunjin noticed your hesitation and pouted, his lower quivering at your rejection of his proposal.

“Please? I’m just doing my job. Gotta keep you safe while you sleep. I’m the best watch dog.”

You chuckled at the latter as he was far from a watch dog but more of a harmless ferret. Deciding to appease him you slid under the covers, pulling the blankets up to your chin. Hyunjin smiled, satisfied that you accepted his request. He reached out and brushed his fingers through your hair, smiling as your eyes fluttered at his touch.

You gazed up at Hyunjin, your protector, your celestial spirit. Your heart raced, seeming to speed up so fast it would jump out of your chest. He matched your gaze and began to hum a song, the melody soft and sweet, soothing you to the point where you felt more relaxed than you’ve ever been.

Not even a minute passed and you were slipping into unconsciousness, Hyunjin’s song still floating throughout your tiny room and through your ears. Your eyelids fluttered as you thought you heard him mumble something, but you couldn’t focus, your body wanting to rest.

“That’s it, sleep deeply peach.” Hyunjin cards his fingers through your hair and tucks you in so you’re nice and warm.

Hyunjin feels a warmth in his chest, one of undying affection towards you. His heart races and he gasps silently as he rests his palm on his chest, feeling the rapid thump thump deep inside. You’re so beautiful to him, someone who he has had the pleasure of watching blossom into the wonderful person you are now.

He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out before getting to work. Gently, he places his hand on your chest, feeling the flutter of your heart and watches the rise and fall as you breathe in and out softly.

“Let’s give you sweet dreams,” Hyunjin murmurs as he activates his power.

The familiar warmth spreads through his body and travels through his arm and then his hand, the glow lighting up the otherwise dark room. It doesn’t take long for the light to fade and right at the last second, Hyunjin makes a last minute decision and closes his eyes, willing himself to join you in your psyche.

He opens his eyes and blinks against the bright light, shading his eyes at the sun that sits high in the sky. Glancing around, he searches for you and smiles as he notices that you are on the far side of the field, your head tilted to the sky and your eyes closed. Hyunjin gazes longingly at you, taking in how the wind lightly tussles your hair, the strands floating through the air. Your dress billows outwards, revealing your slender legs.

You open your eyes and start to walk, trailing across the grass as if you’re floating. Before long you start to sing, a lovely melody that speaks of unrequited love. Hyunjin follows you, keeping a short distance between the two of you.

The grass is soft beneath his feet and warmth spreads through his toes. The air is crisp, filling his lungs deeply and clarifying his head. He reaches out a hand to you as if he wants to take you in his grasp, but you continue on, not even looking back at the visitor in your dream.

Once you approach the end of the field, Hyunjin decides it’s time to leave and so he does, opening his eyes suddenly to the darkness of your room. He glances down at you and smiles at how you sleep peacefully, your mouth slightly open as you breathe, your hair fanning out on your pillow and giving you an ethereal look.

“Continue dreaming,” Hyunjin whispers and settles deeper into bed, making sure to keep you close to his body.

A week has passed since Hyunjin has entered your life…well at least in human form. You both have fallen into a routine, one in which he does all the domestic chores while you’re at work. Your days off are spent roaming the city exploring, showing him all of your favorite spots, taking him to all of your favorite restaurants.

You feel great joy at watching his excitement as he tries new things, his eyes lighting up like a child’s on Christmas. He’s painted pictures, lots of them and now your walls are covered with them. There’s many scenes of landscapes and animals but many are of flowers, which are his favorite thing to paint.

The sun is high in the sky, its golden rays shining through your window, bathing the space with warm light. There’s soft music playing in the background, curtesy of Hyunjin. You’re finishing up your breakfast as Hyunjin sits on the floor, paintbrush in hand.

You watch as he moves about the canvas, painting delicate strokes, his eyes focused on the task at hand. He tucks a section of his lip between his teeth, pondering if the color selection is what he wants.

As he continues to paints, your eyes wander down his arms, taking in how they flex with each movement. The muscles bulge and you feel a flutter down below, which has you quickly looking away. Hyunjin seems to sense your unease as he looks up and smirks at you.

You seem like you’ve just seen a ghost or maybe you’re embarrassed as your cheeks are bright red and you’re fiddling with your fingers. If he focuses even more, he can make out your thighs clenching together which makes him silently gasp.

He sits back and stares, conflicted as to what he wants to say or do. The more he stares at you, the more flustered he gets and he twitches in his pants. He has a thought, one that’s fleeting but present. He wonders if you’ll humor him and allow him to fulfill a fantasy of his. Time passes as he ponders if he should ask you. Hyunjin swallows thickly and decides to go with it.

“Y/n?” He catches your eye at the mention of your name. “Can I paint you?”

You look at him in shock wondering where the question came from. He stares you down with a serious expression and you have no doubt he means it. Tossing back the remainder of the milk from your cereal you get up and walk to the sink.

Hyunjin’s eyes follow your every move, his lips parted and eyes sparkling as he awaits your answer. Your bowl makes a soft clink as it touches the bottom of the sink. Turning around you give Hyunjin your best smile, “Sure.”

Hyunjin smiles in turn and gets up. “Can I…”

He hesitates, nervous to ask you his next question. His mind immediately goes to the worse, thinking how you’ll say he’s a creep or a weirdo which is something he never wants to hear coming from your mouth…at least about him.

“What is it?” You’re standing in front of him now, staring up into his eyes. You look so innocent with big doe eyes and your lips, god he loves your lips. Hyunjin almost reaches out to touch them but stops himself.

“I was gonna ask if I can paint you…but um…you’d be nude…”

He bites his lip and rocks on his feet, looking everywhere but at you. That is until he feels your hand on his arm.

“Of course,” you simply say and smirk as you drop your hand.

“Okay…okay…yeah…um great. Um let’s go to the living room and uhh, get undressed,” his words trail off as he notices he’s too excited and you look amused, probably making fun of him in your head.

You saunter over to the living room and begin to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it away once it’s clear. You unhook your bra and toss that as well chuckling as you hear Hyunjin gasp behind you. You quickly remove your leggings pulling your panties with them.

Now you stand bare in front of your celestial spirit, your back to the man. You’ve always been confident in your body, falling in love at your plush curves and supple breasts. Standing here in the nude in front of Hyunjin doesn’t make you nervous, but instead sparks something inside you, almost akin to excitement.

Taking a breath you turn around to face him, smiling as he takes you in, his eyes wide. You’re sure he’s freaking out inside, as he hasn’t moved or said anything in the last few moments.

Hyunjin is speechless. Here you are standing in front of him, baring all for him to see. He’s in awe of your beauty, how perfect you are. He’s not sure how long he stares but you clear your throat and he snaps back to reality with a sheepish grin.

“Go ahead and lay down,” he instructs as he gathers some paints and brushes.

You obey and lay down, shivering slightly as the cold floor meets your back. You watch as Hyunjin scoots over to you, just to gaze at your body again. He inspects his canvas, the dips and curves. He maps out your body, taking in your lithe neck, a perfect spot to litter sweet kisses to, mark you as his. His eyes travel down to your breasts, licking his lips ever so slightly as he observes how your nipples pebble in the cold air, perfect for teasing until you’re writhing beneath him.

Down, down he looks until he reaches your core, that looks so soft and glistens as you’re steadily leaking with arousal, a sight that makes his breath hitch. He thinks he has it down and grabs a brush ready to create a masterpiece.

You watch as Hyunjin dips his brush in blue paint and brings it to your neck, placing the bristle on your skin and drags it around. You shiver at the feel of the cold substance and wiggle your fingers at the tingling sensation from his movements.

You try and lay still, but the bristle moves against your skin in a certain way that has you snorting. Hyunjin stops painting and merely looks at you with a shocked expression. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and hold your breath, wondering what he will say or do at your mishap.

However, his mouth only opens and then immediately closes as if he’s trying to say something and that spurs you on further until you burst out laughing. High and shrill, your laughter echos through the room and eventually mixes with Hyunjin’s whines.

Your side hurts and you clutch at your belly, your thoughts slowly transitioning from how ticklish it felt when he painted your skin to how you’re lying in the nude in the middle of your living room.

Tears fall down your face as you take deep breaths, trying to quell your laughing. Opening one eye, you see Hyunjin sitting there defeated with a pout. It is the most adorable sight you’ve ever seen and so you stop laughing and dry your face.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m ready.” You say with an apologetic look.

Hyunjin just stares at you, considering your surrender as if he’s searching for a lie. After a while however, he must deem your apology acceptable and gets back to work, dipping his paintbrush once more into the blue paint and begins to work. You tense up at the bristles again, but this time you breathe through it, determined not to mess up Hyunjin’s concentration.

What you were doing worked and after a while you find the brush strokes soothing as Hyunjin drags his wrist around your skin. You find yourself staring at his face, admiring his facial structure, feeling a little envious at how perfect it is. You get lost in his eyes as always, staring at how the chocolate brown seems to sparkle, how it mingles with streaks of black all meeting at the pupil, which is locked in, focused on your body.

Dragging your gaze down, you come to his lips, an asset you have always been in love with. They’re plush and seem soft like velvet, like little pillows that you’d love nothing more than to touch, feel the texture beneath your skin. Your eyes roam once more and catch the little moles that litter his face, small little black dots that accentuate his look so much so you want to place your lips upon them and kiss it, listen to how he’d probably tense up under your touch, whispering for more.

Hyunjin feels your heated gaze on him and his movements falter, but only for a moment. He clears his throat and murmurs, “What are you looking at?”

You look into his eyes again and heat rushes to your face after being caught in your folly. “Nothing…Just you,” you say after an afterthought.

“Yeah? What about me?” His voice is husky and laced with something you can’t place, almost like a mixture of curiosity and lust.

‘Oh, so it’s like that’, you think and the prospect excites you more than it probably should. “Just at how beautiful your eyes are, how beautiful you are. It’s not fair.”

Hyunjin chuckles and dips his brush into the water, cleaning off the current color on the bristles. “You alright? Getting tired?” He teases as he open another tube of paint, squeezing a dollop onto his pallet before dipping the brush into the vibrant color.

You are about to respond when the brush lands directly on your nipple, effectively shutting you up as he paints around your areola. Shivers run down your spine and your body tenses at the sensation, one that you may be a little more fond of than you’d care to admit. Hyunjin doesn’t notice your change in demeanor and if he does, he says nothing but continues to paint, focused on the masterpiece he’s creating.

He’s delicate around your breasts, taking care to paint every inch, filling it with details only he can see. Your nipples have pebbled from the stimulation and Hyunjin has to work hard to control himself not to tease you, touch you, drag out the pleasure he knows you’re feeling from his administrations.

A swipe across the swell of flesh and your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes flutter closed before opening again. Another swipe and your thighs clench as you lick your lips. Hyunjin focuses on his painting, but also your body, how you react so well for him, laying still so he can make you into a masterpiece.

He finishes the area around your chest and moves down to your stomach, covering every inch he can. Delicate flowers appear by your bellybutton, the petals seeming to dance in the wind, an effect only Hyunjin can create. He adds hundreds of little blades of grass, protecting the flowers he loves so much, littering your pelvis just so.

You’re not sure how much time has passed with you lying on your back as Hyunjin paints. The silence drones on, accented by your occasional gasp and the swish of water as Hyunjin wets his brush. Your toes curl the lower he goes, warmth pooling in your gut as he brushes over your pubic mound, painting whatever he deems fit for his masterpiece.

As you lay there, you become dizzy from all of the touching and teasing that occurs. The ceiling spins and your arousal drips, coating your folds to the point that Hyunjin most definitely will notice. He pauses momentarily, eyeing your pussy and the slick that coats it, in awe at how wet you are just from him touching you with a paintbrush.

He won’t lie, his cock is hard in the confines of his pants and he wishes he could free it, soothe the ache that has been steadily building. He would love to be between your legs, burying his length in your heat, relieving himself and you as well, taking you to heights only he can bring you.

However, he snaps out of his reverie to continue his work, moving onto your thighs. He’s almost done, his piece near completion and he couldn’t be more than happy. You look stunning, even more so with what he’s created, making you a living piece of art.

You close your eyes and lose yourself in his work, as he paints large strokes across your thighs, humming as he does so. It feels warm, in contrast to the rest of your body which feels cold at this point, but you don’t mind as it doesn’t take long for your body to heat again from Hyunjin’s gentle touches.

You feel as he gets closer to your feet and he seems to be working faster as he reaches the finish line. You wonder what he has created on your body, what he has turned you into. Your eyes flutter once more as you feel his touch, the warmth of his hand briefly touching your leg. You want him to touch you more, feel you, tease you…

“Done. I’m done.”

Your eyes snap open and you look at Hyunjin who is sitting on his haunches, breathing deeply as he sets his paintbrush down. His eyes roam your body, starting at your face and he slowly moves down. His gaze is intense, eyes lingering on your breasts, his tongue briefly darting out to lick his lips. You watch as he moves onto your belly and then to your core, his breath catching as he eyes it.

You don’t dare to move as he looks at your legs, his mouth turning up into a smile as he nods in satisfaction, proud of his work.

“Lay there while I clean up my paints okay? It needs to finish drying and then I’ll help you to the mirror so you can look.”

You nod in agreement and he begins to gather the supplies to bring them to the kitchen. The water splashes in the sink as he washes the brushes and a song rings out as he begins to sing. His voice is ethereal and you lay still listening as the paint on your body dries.

A few minutes later Hyunjin is standing next to you looking down. He smiles and offers his hand, “ready peach?”

You nod and take his hand, making sure you are careful not to disturb his painting as you stand on your feet. It takes a moment for you to get your bearings after lying still for so long and your ears ring as the blood rushes throughout your body. After a minute, Hyunjin guides you to your room and to your full length mirror.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs before you arrive, his eyebrow arching as he waits for you to comply.

Your eyes close and you take a deep breath just to let it out. Hyunjin squeezes your hand and then positions you how he wants you. You can feel the heat of his body behind you and his breath against your ear.

“Open your eyes.”

Light floods your vision as you open your eyes and it takes a second for your sight to adjust. However, once it does, you look straight in the mirror and gasp at your reflection. Your body is covered from neck to toes, decked out in delicate designs that have been carefully curated by Hyunjin.

There’s an expanse of black and blue that covers your neck to your breasts, mimicking the night sky that you love so much. The planets accent the area, the rich reds of Mars next to the bright yellow of Venus. The rings of Saturn circle delicately around your left breast, the planet itself taking over the expanse of your areola and nipple.

Your eyes continue down to your belly that gives way to a field filled with flowers, every type present in vibrant colors of spring. Little fireflies litter the area above the flowers, their colors seeming to glow in contrast to your body. Your pelvis and legs give way to the area below the ground leading to the core of the earth.

Violent swirls of orange, red, and yellows mix haphazardly, forming the core of the planet. Your whole body is a contrast between gentle and turbulent, depicting the story of the universe.

“It’s stunning,” you murmur as you continue to stare in the mirror. Hyunjin smiles and murmurs a thank you.

“There’s more,” he says behind you and you cock your head in curiosity.

Hyunjin murmurs something under his breath and gently touches your shoulder, a zap of energy traveling from his fingertips into your body. Before your eyes, his creations begin to move, the story coming to life.

The planets rotate as they do in space and the stars twinkle. The area where the sun is seems to warm your chest just like the sun warms your body everyday. The flowers sway as if there’s a gentle wind and the fireflies fly to and fro. The lava swirls and splashes against the edges of your legs, the feeling warm as it should be.

Your whole body has become animated.

“Holy shit,” you murmur in awe. You are literally a living masterpiece.

“My muse. I’m so happy you let me do this,” Hyunjin says, voiced laced with gratitude.

You are perfect and he’s painted how he sees you, the universe, his universe. His hands lightly grip your arms and slowly slides down until he reaches your waist. His palms find the skin there and he steps closer, his head lowering until his lips are able to graze the flesh of your neck.

You both stand there quietly and you feel his lips brush against you. Goosebumps rise on your arms and you let out a low moan, closing your eyes and surrendering to the man behind you. Slowly, gently, his lips press against you, again and again until he reaches that spot behind your ear. His tongue darts out just to lick a stripe against the flesh followed by a wet kiss.

Hyunjin’s hands ghost across your belly, down to your core, the pad of his finger pressing against your clit causing you to arch into his chest and rest your head against his shoulder. He circles the bud, savoring how wet you are, how you open yourself up to him. You’re pulled flush against him, so much so you can feel his length against you.

Your breathing increases as he continues to play with your clit, slowly at first and then speeding up, alternating speeds to keep you on your toes. It doesn’t take long until you’ve reached the precipice, the climax that you’ve been craving for the last few hours after being edged over and over. However, right as you’re about to give in and tip over the edge, Hyunjin removes his fingers and you groan, disappointed at your fading orgasm.

He chuckles and brings his fingers to your lips, pushing them into your mouth prompting you to suck. Your tongue swirls over the digits, allowing you to taste yourself, the tangy but sweet taste causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“Sweet peach, can I have you?” Hyunjin says, his voice deep and husky in your ear.

“Yes, I’m yours,” you merely answer, needing him and fast.

Hyunjin grunts as he fumbles with his pants, shucking them down enough to free his cock. You feel the tip at your entrance and your breath hitches as he breaches your hole, slowly but surely until he’s flush to your ass. He draws back, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls just to push back in, picking up a steady pace.

You stare at your reflection, taking in how the paintings continue to move, to swirl around as he fucks you. Your breasts jiggle with every thrust and his hands grip your waist hard as he loses himself in you, speeding up with each thrust. Hyunjin fills you perfectly and the pleasure spreads, causing more slick to coat his cock as he drives it into you.

“This pussy, fuck!” Hyunjin groans as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, the pain causing you to yelp. He quickly soothes the area with his tongue and presses a kiss to the marks he’s made.

His hand finds its way to your clit again and he begins to rub, needing you to come with him. He’s close as your wet walls swallow him whole, as they wrap around his cock nice and snug. Your moans spur him on as they are music to his ears.

Hyunjin looks into the mirror to watch you fall apart, all because of his cock. His eyes stay on yours and he thrusts into you harder, faster as he chases his high. You let out a string of loud moans as you reach your climax, letting out a groan as you finally tip over the edge. His fingers don’t stop but instead continue to rub your clit as he fucks you through your high.

The sight is more than Hyunjin can bear and he releases inside you, spurts of warm cum flooding your pussy, coating your walls and cervix. He slows his thrusts as you milk every last drop until he’s empty and collapses his head onto your shoulder. He lavishes the skin with sweet kisses, murmuring how sweet you are, his peach, his precious sweet peach.

He steps away and his cock slides from your pussy, the feeling of his cum following suit. It’s an odd sensation, but one you welcome. Hyunjin watches his release drip down your thighs and proceeds to swipe it up and push it back in, wanting you to keep it safe.

Satisfied, he leads you to the bathroom and he begins the process of washing your body, taking great care to be gentle as he reaches your sore core. He sings a melody that soothes your body and mind and you let his hands once more drag across your body, to lace it with soft lavender and tender honey. Once he’s done, he dries your skin, running a fluffy towel over you, taking care to press a kiss to your lips every now and then.

He carefully dresses you and then pulls you into bed, snuggling you close to his body, a position you find yourself in every night since his arrival. Clean, warm, and safe, you drift off to sleep, cradled in the embrace of your spirit.

“What are you doing?” You coo as your fingers cascade through Hyunjin’s soft locks. He’s lounging across your lap, playing with the hem of your shirt. You two have become much closer, needing to be next to each other every second of the day. Hyunjin practically howls when you have to leave for work, wishing he could come with you.

“Hmm I’m bored peach,” Hyunjin says with a pout, his lips poking out and his gaze shifting to yours.

“Aww, well maybe we could go out? My mother has been wanting me to stop by…we could go visit?” You pause for a moment considering your question. You’d be bringing Hyunjin to meet your mother, a fact that scares you a little. What would she think of this man and what he means to you? “That is if you want,” you add as an afterthought.

Hyunjin sits up and chuckles, “I’d love to meet your mother peach. I’m sure she’s amazing just like you.” He boops the end of your nose and you blush, smitten with your spirit.

“Well then let’s get ready.”

Hyunjin merely nods and gets up, scampering off to your bedroom to get dressed. You follow right behind him and pick out an outfit, perfect for visiting your mother. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her and she’s been curious as to why you haven’t stopped by. She’ll definitely be shocked but pleased once she understands the reason why.

You’re fixing your hair when Hyunjin wraps his arms around you, immediately nuzzling his face in your hair. “So beautiful, my peach.”

You chuckle and turn around in his grasp, placing your palm on his cheek. “You’re more beautiful.”

Hyunjin tsks and turns to leave, “Not in a million years. Let’s go!”

The journey to your mother’s is a long one, two hours by train. She lives in the countryside, where she can be close to nature, where she feels at home. Not much has changed since you were little, your childhood home in pristine condition as it was when you left shortly after finishing high school.

Once you’re off the train, it’s a short walk to your home. Hyunjin looks around happily, taking a moment to stop every now and then and smell the flowers that line to walkway to your home. He glances at you occasionally with a wide grin and before you approach the front door, he reaches down to interlock his fingers with yours.

There are tendrils of vines interweaving the sides of the door and fresh herbs that reside in various pots, the fragrance pleasant in the cool air. A welcome sign hangs from the wood and you knock loudly as you give Hyunjin an encouraging smile. You can hear your mother move about the house as she sing-songs ‘Coming!’ Loudly.

A moment later, the door swings open and your mother appears, looking refreshed and elated at your appearance.

“Y/n! What a surprise!” She looks you over and nods in approval before her eyes wonder to Hyunjin standing next to you. Her brows raise in amusement and she places her hands on her hips. “Ahh so it has occurred. Come in, come in.”

She turns her back to you two and wanders into the house, her skirt brushing around in a dramatic fashion. You lead Hyunjin into your home and immediately you feel at peace. The scent of jasmine that you remember wraps around you, cradling you, almost as if it’s welcoming you home. The fire is blazing in the hearth and normally it would be stifling from the heat but the opposite occurs, the air cool against your skin.

Everything is as it should be, not a piece of furniture or random object out of place. Your mother bustles around, searching through her pots that litter the floor. Finding what she is searching for, she wordlessly hands you a sprig of peppermint. You accept the herb in confusion, but nonetheless lift it to your nose, the strong mint scent quelling the unease you’ve been feeling in your stomach since this morning.

You wonder how she knew you weren’t feeling well, but it’s your mother after all, her knowledge is quite extensive, especially about her daughter.

“How was the journey my sweet? Pleasant?”

“Yes mother, no issues.”

She hums and busies herself around the room. “Well sit down, lunch will be ready shortly. Then you can tell me all about your spirit there.”

You and Hyunjin share a look of surprise and sit on the couch. You two watch her waltz around the room, preparing lunch and also tidy up…well as much tidying as she can do. Her chaos is comforting and you realize how much you miss it.

“I made a chicken stew today. Something told me to make an ornate meal and so here we are. Mrs. Hubble from town provided the chicken so it’s fresh. I’m so happy you’ve stopped by my sweet! I’ve missed you so much!”

She hands you and Hyunjin a bowl and grabs one for herself before sitting in a chair near the couch occupied by you two. “So, how did you summon him?”

Your mother has always been blunt with her words, thinking that beating around the bush is a waste of time.

“I’m not quite sure mother. A horrible storm came through and I wasn’t able to do the protective spells as you taught me and when I woke up Hyunjin was there.”

“Ahh, then the storm summoned him. Wonderful, I always knew you’d be able to. He’s so handsome,” she gushed, giving you a knowing look.

You blush at her words and bow your head, “Mother, don’t.”

She chuckles and waves your nerves away. “You two have a story yet. Just you wait and see.”

You look up curiously at her words, trying to decipher the riddle. You know better than to ask however as the meaning always presents itself when you least expect it. As you all finish up lunch, she ushers you two up, prompting you to show Hyunjin around which you find an excellent idea.

You start by showing him your childhood room that’s set up exactly the same as it was back then. Hyunjin looks around curiously, lightly touching your stuffies that are propped up on your bed. He glances through your bookshelf, pulling out book after book and thumbing through the pages.

He makes his way over to your cork board that is filled with photographs of you and your friends, all of you smiling at the camera with childhood innocence. “I love your room,” he says as he turns to you, quickly closing the gap in the small room to wrap his arms around you.

You let out a sigh and rest your cheek on his chest, listening to the hardy thumps of his heart. You close your eyes and ground yourself in him, taking deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, the scent of honeysuckle filling your nostrils.

In Hyunjin’s arms you feel a little better, your stomach not nearly upset as it has been for a few weeks now. Hyunjin has noticed a difference in your demeanor, especially when you first wake up and he’s taken measures to make sure you feel better, whether that’s making herb tea for you or just holding you close.

After some time you pull away and gaze up into his eyes. His fingers push back a strand of hair that has fallen out of your ponytail and you all but purr at his touch. “Wanna go outside?”

Hyunjin nods and follows you out to the backyard in which he stares at the little oasis with open mouth. Your mother worked hard to make sure the area was a sanctuary, somewhere you two could get lost in and escape the outside world. There’s flowers everywhere, from primrose to chrysanthemums, daisies to roses. Vibrant colors litter the walkway, inviting magic in and serenity.

There’s a tiny pond in the center of the yard and birds bathe in the waters, skittering and splashing in the cool water. In the very back is where your mother keeps her garden, filled with vegetables, herbs, whatever she deems necessary. It truly is an oasis, a place you’d frequently escape to especially after having a bad night filled with nightmares.

“It’s beautiful out here isn’t it?” Your mother asks, looking right at Hyunjin.

“It is, I love it,” he murmurs in awe.

Your mother makes a pleased sound and then crosses her arms as she stares out at the yard. “By the looks of how you’re dressed and the crystals on my daughter’s necklace, I’d assume you’re a Pisces celestial spirit?”

Hyunjin nods impressed at her knowledge.

“Oh don’t give me that look. I know about the spirits my dear, more than anyone in our family. I’m glad Y/n has you though, I knew when I gave her the necklace you two would hit it off well.”

“Why don’t you go inside Hyunjin? We’ll be right behind you in a moment.” Hyunjin simply nods and obeys. You look at your mother curiously, wondering what she has to say that she can’t divulge in Hyunjin’s presence.

She stares long and hard at you, furrowing her brows as her eyes land on your belly. She takes your hands in hers and gives them a squeeze. “Oh my sweet, you’ve grown so much. This next chapter in your life will be difficult, difficult yes but oh so rewarding.”

“Mother what are you talking about?” You are confused, her riddles getting the best of you.

“You’ll understand in time,” she replies with a smile. “In the meantime, I will send those peppermint leaves with you to have. I think they worked quite well for you earlier.”

At that she dropped your hands and head inside, leaving you standing there more confused than ever. You made your way back in the house and went to Hyunjin’s side as your mother put together a little care package. Once she was done, she handed it to Hyunjin and took you in her arms, giving you a big hug.

“Take care my sweet.”

You wrapped your arms around your mother and held her close. After giving you a squeeze, she stepped away and ushered you to the door. “Travel safely!”

You and Hyunjin began the journey back to the train station hand and hand, elated after the visit you just had. Hyunjin made sure to keep you close and once on the train, gave you the window seat so you could rest comfortably. He watched carefully over you as you drifted off to sleep, the outing causing you to feel more exhausted than usual.

When you opened your eyes, you noticed you were back in the city and Hyunjin led the way back home, eager to get you in bed so you could rest. He could tell the trip, although nice, had taken a lot out of you and you looked a little worse for wear.

He pampered you once at home, running your bath and bathing you before dressing you in soft pajamas. You slid into bed and assumed your position next to him, resting in his warm embrace. You succumbed to sleep immediately, letting your exhaustion take over.

“Let me come to work with you! Please?”

Hyunjin is on his knees, his arms wrapped around your legs so he can rest his head on your pelvis. He’s looking at you with the cutest expression, his bottom lip jutted out and his eyes wide and shining.

You are about to leave for work and Hyunjin is not happy about it, wanting to join you at the shop. Your fingers drift through his silky locks as you glance down at him. His cheek rests on your belly but only for moment as something makes him lean back and frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” Hyunjin brushes off your question and continues to plead with you, promising not to get in your way.

“Alright alright, you can come,” you give in with a chuckle and grab your keys. “You have two seconds to get ready!”

Hyunjin scurries away and you hear a commotion in your bedroom before he’s rushing back out to meet you. You nod satisfied and walk out the door, Hyunjin following close behind. He’s silent the whole commute to the shop, that is until you arrive. Lilly is at the register and she looks up with curiosity at your guest.

“And who is this?” Lilly asks, eyeing Hyunjin up and down. She fiddles with her shirt, pulling it down so a little bit of cleavage shows.

Hyunjin ignores her quip but sticks close to you. “This is Hyunjin my…my boyfriend…yeah.”

“Oh?” Lilly says with raised eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were dating again.”

“It’s pretty recent…new couple and all.” You look anywhere but at her face, nervous about your answer. You could hardly tell her that he is a celestial spirit, one that watches over and manipulates your dreams. Lilly would laugh at you and say you’re insane.

“Well Hyunjin, nice to meet you.” Lilly coos. She points to a chair behind the register, “you can sit there.”

Hyunjin nods and says thank you. He looks up at you expectedly, a look of longing on his face. You walk over to him and move a strand of hair out of his face. He smiles and nuzzles into your hand. “Work hard my peach.”

“Of course,” you chuckle and turn your back to him.

The day passes neither slow nor quick and Hyunjin watches all of it. His eyes follow you as you move around the shop, while you ring up customers or even chat with Lilly. You seem at peace as you work, enjoying what you do, surrounded by the pages that tell stories of old and new.

As he observes, he remembers this morning, the flutter within your belly that rippled against his cheek. It startled him in the moment and he wonders what it was from. Maybe you were just hungry since it was morning and you didn’t eat much at breakfast, claiming you felt sick to your stomach. That’s been a complaint of yours recently and he wishes he could take away your discomfort and make it his own.

You’ve been tossing and turning more in your sleep as well and he tries to quell your discomfort, but it seems to not work as well as it has in the past. He’s not sure why, his mind wandering to the potential cause day in and day out. Hyunjin doesn’t voice this to you however as he doesn’t want to worry you.

He’s still in deep thought when you step in front of him, letting him know it’s time to go. Hyunjin takes your hand, relaxing in the comfort of your hold…that is until he notices the change in your aura. He blinks his eyes and does a double take but the change is gone and your normal aura is back. An uneasy feeling settles in his stomach and he pulls you along towards the door.

“Hyunjin wait!” You call out as you’re dragged along out of the shop. There seems to be a slight change in Hyunjin, as if he saw a ghost or something. You wonder what could have spooked him enough to hurry you out of the shop.

You’re not able to ponder the situation for long as Hyunjin begins to yap, talking about going to some festival next month that he’s been eager to go to. His demeanor is completely different than how it was earlier and you quickly forget his odd behavior.

Before you know it you’re back home and Hyunjin is pulling you to the couch. He beckons you to sit down which you do and he starts to pull off your shoes, followed by tucking you in under a blanket.

“How are you feeling?” Hyunjin asks as he fusses around you ensuring that you’re comfortable after being on your feet all day.

“Okay, not feeling ill at least.” You actually felt okay for once, the unsettled feeling in your belly gone. You actually felt like you could eat something other than crackers, your belly growling not a moment later at the thought.

“Hungry?” Hyunjin chuckles after hearing the cry for help from your stomach.

“A little…” you grin, placing a hand on the blanket as if you’re telling your belly to stop being dramatic.

“Say less peach!”

Hyunjin jumps up from the couch and you hear him in the kitchen, banging pots and pans around. Before you know it, the smell of something rich feels your apartment and your mouth begins to water at the prospect of eating whatever delicious dish Hyunjin was making. You don’t have to wait long for him to finish up and he rounds the corner with a plate piled high with your favorite dish-lasagna.

“I made your favorite!” Hyunjin gushes as he carefully sets the dish on your lap.

You smile gratefully and dig in, groaning at how delicious it tastes. At first you thought you weren’t that hungry, but your body said otherwise as you cleaned your plate, licking your lips in satisfaction once it’s clear. Hyunjin chuckles and smirks, probably thinking about how his cooking skills are so good.

He takes the plate away and sets it on the table. “Let’s watch a movie,” he suggests and you readily agree at the calm activity. Hyunjin busies himself with finding an option and turning down the lights, creating an intimate atmosphere that has your pulse quickening and your cheeks reddening. He slides under the end of the blanket that’s wrapped around you and places your feet over his lap.

The movie begins and you both pay attention to the screen, watching as some heroine decides she doesn’t need anybody in her life to excel. It was a cheesy plot and your attention kept diverting unlike Hyunjin whose eyes were glued to the screen. You couldn’t help but stare at him, wondering how you could have ended up with such a great spirit.

As the night went on, you found yourself thinking of the celestial realm and Hyunjin’s home. What was it like? Is it similar to earth? Are there other celestial spirits? You were far away, deep in your thoughts that you missed Hyunjin’s question.

“Y/n? Do you not like the movie?” Hyunjin asks you with a pout, worried that you were bored with the movie he picked.

You chuckled and reached for his hand, “No, I was just thinking about your realm. Like what is it like?”

Hyunjin regarded you for a moment, trying to decide if you were serious or not. You seemed conflicted, both present in the moment but also far away. He could show you his world, there is a loop hole he could explore to get you there.

“Do you really want to see what it’s like?” He asks, staring at you with conviction that has you squirming in your seat.

“I do, I really do.”

“Okay, I can take you there….well, the backway. You can’t go there consciously, but I can take you there via a dream. You know…cause I can manipulate dreams.”

You are silent as he speaks, shocked that he would take you to where he’s from. Did he really mean it?

“I’ll have you fall asleep and right before you enter deep unconsciousness, I will transport you there.”

“Okay,” you whisper, confused on how he really will pull it off. He needed you to fall asleep, which seemed easy enough as you were always exhausted these days. Even now, you could feel sleep pulling at you, begging you to succumb to it and drift off to dream world.

You kept your eyes on Hyunjin, his hand still in yours. He gave you a reassuring smile as you felt your eyes slowly close. The last thing you remember is him whispering something, although you’re not sure his exact words as your brain was slowly shutting down.

Hyunjin waited as you fell asleep, waiting for the exact moment you crossed over into dreamland. He didn’t have to wait long and before he missed the opportunity, he placed his hand on your chest and focused on the celestial realm. A second later he was back at home, well kind of and you were there next to him, blinking the bright light from the sun from your eyes.

“We’re here Y/n,” Hyunjin murmured as he faced his house, a sight he hasn’t had the pleasure of seeing for a few months now.

You were speechless. It worked, Hyunjin’s plan actually worked. You were in the celestial realm, where Hyunjin lived until you summoned him. There was a house in front of you, decked out with flowers galore. Bees flew from flower to flower, doing what they do best. The fragrance was nice and soothing and you took a deep breath in to take it all in.

“Well, this is my home. Wanna go in?”

You nodded and followed Hyunjin inside, a little nervous as you didn’t know what to expect. It was dark inside and you watched as he scurried around to light the room. His home was so…Hyunjin, filled with craft supplies and more flowers. The counters were cluttered, stuffed with items he created in various stages of completion. There was a little bed in the corner of the room, the only other furniture in the small space besides the kitchen appliances.

“It’s not much, but it’s my little sanctuary.”

“It’s perfect,” you gushed and gave him a huge smile. You loved this little space that screamed Hyunjin and all of his little creations that added to the charm of the space.

You walked a little deeper into the room to explore when there was a loud knock on the door.

“Hyunjin! Open up!”

You looked at Hyunjin, alarmed at the threatening voice on the other side of the door. Hyunjin merely chuckled which left you confused. He opened the door with bravo and a man walked in while chattering a mile a minute.

“Where have you been? It’s been ages Hyun. You think you can just up and leave without a word. Everyone has been-“ but his words were cut off by Hyunjin himself.

“Minho, calm down,” Hyunjin said with a chuckle, “I’m here now aren’t I?”

Minho regarded him, a skeptical look on his face. “You’re not really back though, not really. This is a dream isn’t it? What’s going on?”

Minho looked behind Hyunjin and noticed you, cowering in the corner and looking uncertain. The look he gave you could have killed, as he glared at your form, his lips peeling back to reveal bunny like teeth. “Ahh, there’s the reason you disappeared. It was finally time huh?”

He regarded you some more, his eyes roaming your form and looking at your belly longer than he should have. Suddenly, he burst into a huge grin, his eyebrows raising in amusement.

“Been quite busy have we Hyunjin,” Minho teased the ferret. “When is the new addition gonna be here?”

Both you and Hyunjin stared at Minho flabbergasted, not sure what to say to his question. New addition? New…new… your hand immediately flew to your belly, feeling for what this man immediately saw. You couldn’t be pregnant…could you? You thought about how exhausted you’ve been for the last month and how sick you’ve felt throughout the day. You’ve felt slightly more emotional than usual too.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant!” Hyunjin gushed as he rounded on you. “Peach! That’s so amazing! I’m going to be a dad!”

Hyunjin seemed to accept Minho’s statement, while you were still in shock. Minho walked over to you and extended his hand, “I’m Minho, your Scorpio celestial spirit.”

You timidly took his hand before dropping it, unsure of what to say. Minho smirked at your reaction and turned back to Hyunjin. “So how long will you stay?”

“Not sure, but let’s make the most of it while I’m here.”

Minho nodded and walked over to Hyunjin’s stove and grabbed the kettle that was there. You watched the man move around the kitchen, following the steps to make tea. Hyunjin made room on a chair that was hidden under a bunch of paintings and had you sit, plopping down right next to you.

“So what’s been going on while I’ve been away?”

“Oh nothing exciting. Jisung was summoned which I guess was a big deal as you know who his person is. He was anticipating it for a while now.” Minho grabbed three cups from the cabinet and began to pout the tea. “Let’s see…Felix almost burnt down his house making cookies, the whole village had to help put the flames out. He’s banned from baking for the next month or so.”

Minho handed you a cup which you accepted gratefully. You sniffed the liquid and was surprised your stomach didn’t turn at the smell. Minho gave you a knowing look and sipped his own tea before refocusing back on Hyunjin.

“I told everyone you’d been summoned and they were all elated. They know you’ve been waiting for over twenty five years.”

You blushed at the last part, feeling as if it was your fault why he wasn’t summoned sooner. Hyunjin and Minho began to catch up and you tried to follow the conversation, but soon it became complicated as they were discussing the celestial realm.

You took in Minho’s appearance deeming him handsome as well which threw you for a loop. Are all celestial spirits gorgeous? You couldn’t help but wonder what his power was being a celestial spirit and all. It’s almost as if he could read your mind because his focus switched to you.

“My power is telekinesis and I can also manipulate time,” Minho said as he kept eye contact with you.

You were shocked at first but quickly recovered realizing he could read your mind. Hyunjin giggled at your confusion and reached for your hand. “It is freaky if you’ve never encountered it before. I get it peach.”

Minho chuckled at the latter, “Peach huh? Even have a little pet name. How cute.”

“She’s my little peach,” Hyunjin cood as he brushed the side of your face.

You could feel the heat rising under both his attention and Minho’s. You took in the love-struck face on Hyunjin and feeling your heart flutter at the fact that he was yours. Your protector, your sanctuary, the father of your child. He smiled at you, his lips turning upward and you returned the gesture, that is until his lips continued to curl higher and higher until it reached his eyes.

You stared in horror as his face began to twist in a spiral and you let out a scream, terrified at what he was becoming. Pushing him away, you stumbled to the door and was about to throw it open when a pair of arms wrapped around you holding you back. You scratched and screamed, begging to be let go but the person kept a tight hold on you.

“Y/n! Shh, it’s okay! It’s me Minho, Y/n!”

You could hear your name along with the name Minho. At that you began to calm down, realizing he was the one who had stopped you from bolting outside. Once he saw you had stopped fighting, his hold weakened and he let out a huff. Your breath was choppy and your heart pounding as you were scared who’d you see when you turned around.

Slowly, you did so and were shocked to see Hyunjin, the real Hyunjin, standing in shock where you left him. His face was back to normal and not distorted as it was moments before. Were you hallucinating? You could have sworn his face was different…after all, you saw what you saw.

“Your face…it’s back to normal…”

“Back to normal? Y/n, what are you talking about?” Hyunjin asked confused.

Minho completely let go of you and you walked over to your spirit. Gently, you reached out to touch his face, following the outline of his lips which was how it should be, all the way up to his eyes. You stared in disbelief at how normal everything looked, a far cry from how it was earlier. Were you going crazy?

Hyunjin stood absolutely still as you examined him, not daring to move a muscle. He was terrified and a little confused as to what happened. You claimed his face changed, but how is that possible. He didn’t feel anything. He’s never seen that look on your face…well, maybe a few other times, but that was only when you were dreaming.

Minho caught his eye and stared at him, as if he was trying to tell him something. Hyunjin caught on quickly, looking towards the door. An almost invisible wisp of black smoke was making its way underneath the crack, rising high into the air before disappearing completely. Could this be what disturbed you?

Hyunjin had a bad feeling about this…he probably should get you back to the mortal world, where you belonged. You had already been here too long as time went by quickly here compared to earth. Grasping your shoulders, he interrupted your examination and said, “It’s time to go back peach. Okay?”

You nodded and let him take your hand in his. “Thanks for stopping by Minho, I’ll see you later yeah?”

“Sure, you both get back…Y/n, it was nice to finally meet you.”

Hyunjin hurried you out of the door and led you to the middle of the road, he was about to chant the words needed to return to the earth realm when he felt tendrils wrap around his wrist, trying to separate your hand from his.

He swatted at the substance, attempting to keep it from taking you, but the more he struggled, the tighter it wrapped around your hand. Mumbled voices filled the air, the words not easily made out. You stared at Hyunjin with a terrified expression and you reached for him, reached for safety.

“Minho!” Hyunjin yelled, hoping his friend could hear his cries.

Minho burst out of the house with a shocked expression. Quickly recovering, he raced over to help detangle the substance from you two. “What the fuck is this? This is bad Hyun.”

“I know! Just help us get free and we’ll be out of here!”

Minho and Hyunjin fought against the substance and after some time, a moment appeared that your hands were freed.

“Now!” Minho shouted and he stepped back, watching as Hyunjin took you away back to your home.

You clutched onto Hyunjin and closed your eyes feeling a hard wind beat against your body until it was silent. Opening your eyes, you noticed you were back in your apartment, with Hyunjin sitting next to you, his hand still on your chest. You breathed out a sigh of relief and scrambled into his arms as you sobbed loudly into his chest.

Hyunjin rocked you back and forth, carding his hands through your hair attempting to soothe you. He’s glad you were able to make it out and hope whatever that was will stay away. He’s not sure how long he held you, listened to you cry; but soon you drifted off to sleep, your body going limp in his hold.

He carefully stood up and carried you to bed, sliding in to lay next to you. Hyunjin watches you slumber, at peace at last after that harrowing experience. He had a bad feeling about today’s events…and if what he is thinking of is correct, he’d be devastated.

You didn’t speak of what happened, scared that it would occur again. Hyunjin was more clingy, not letting you out of his sight, insisting that he comes to work with you whenever you were scheduled. You didn’t mind as his presence was comforting, albeit not as much as before.

You had your pregnancy confirmed by going to the doctor, who gladly shared you were almost done with the first trimester, a fact that had you speechless as the whole ordeal still was a shock to you. Hyunjin was over the moon, cooing and talking to your belly everyday. You had a tiny bump, one you could still hide when you went to work or visited your mother, but something told you the latter knew all along from the first time you took Hyunjin to meet her.

Hyunjin felt as if he was loosing control, his power seeming to not work as well as it used to. Oh he could animate his creations easily, that was no problem, but when it came to protecting you in your dreams, he couldn’t quite exert his full strength to do so. He paced the floor one night, waiting for you to fall asleep so he could get to work. It didn’t take long as usual and he crawled next to you, eager to try out a new technique.

Shortly after entering deep sleep, he placed his hand on your chest willing his power to flow through him into you. However, his arm barely glowed and instead was more lackluster which was alarming. He desperately tried again and again, panicking as he noticed you starting to whimper, whatever you were dreaming about starting to turn into a nightmare.

“Work, work dammit,” he grunted as he focused with all his might but to no avail. He felt despair as he watched you struggle, his heart breaking in two at your pain. -- -- “No! Don’t come any closer!”

You screamed at the figure that was hiding in the shadows. It seemed familiar and once it stepped forward allowing the little light that was in the room to illuminate its eyes, you realized why. It was the creature that you would frequently dream about before you summoned Hyunjin.

It crept closer and closer towards you, slowly revealing its body. To your horror, it was long and spindly, with claws as sharp as needles. Its eyes were big and yellow, piercing straight through your skull. It made no sound but instead moved closer to you yet again, raising its claws as if to strike.

The creature eyed your belly and you instinctively wrapped your arms around it as if to protect the little life growing inside you. You crouched over as it continued to raise its claw, higher and higher.

Hyunjin will protect me, don’t worry.

You could feel its breath on your face and you were scared to look up and see its beady eyes.

He has to protect me, he’s my celestial spirit.

You could feel a sharp prick against your skin, its claws finally making contact.

Hyunjin! Please! Help!

You clutched your belly tighter and with a last ditch effort screamed Hyunjin’s name. Suddenly, it was quiet and you could smell fresh honeysuckle, your body relaxing instantly at the thought of being safe. You looked up and noticed the creature was gone and in its place was a field, the same one you’d dream of in the early days.

Hyunjin protected you, just like you knew he would. He protected you and his child. You smiled and whispered thank you and walked through the field, looking for a way out of this nightmare. — — Hyunjin struggled to remain calm. He was sweating bullets the whole time as he tried to increase his power, to manipulate your dream into something pleasant. He felt his heart sink as he watched the creature almost obliterate you and the baby. He doesn’t know what he would have done if he couldn’t save you in time.

He watched you sleep, now peacefully, his mind racing as to why this was occurring. He pulls you close and breathes in the scent of your hair, a scent that calms him immediately. You’re safe. The baby’s safe.

Looking up, he notices a calendar tacked onto the wall. You’ve marked a slash through each day, keeping track of the month as it flew by. He realizes he’s been here with you for almost half a year, a fact that he finds surprising. Has it really been that long? It doesn’t seem like it as everyday is a dream with you. But, the calendar doesn’t lie.

Suddenly, a thought comes to his mind. He’s been here for six months. Here in the earth realm. He’s a celestial spirit, no wonder his power has decreased. He hasn’t been home to replenish his mana in half a year.

This is bad…really bad.

He needs to go home, replenish his power. But if he goes home, he won’t be able to be with you…be with his child. Does he really have to go? That’s a silly question he thinks, of course he has to go. He needs to keep you safe.

You will be devastated, especially with a baby on the way…his baby. He stares at your sleeping face and memorizes your features once again, engraving it into his brain. He’ll breach the topic tomorrow once you’ve slept some and can listen to the heartbreaking tale his has to share.

You wake to the smell of bacon and you immediately hop out of bed, rushing to the kitchen to see Hyunjin bent over the stove slaving away. Sneaking up to him, you wrap your arms around his middle and bury your head in his shirt breathing him in.

“Morning peach.”

“Morning,” you reply, your voice muffled.

“Go sit, breakfast is almost ready.”

You don’t need to be told twice and you rush to your chair, plopping down to wait for your plate. Hyunjin brings it over and places it in front of you. Immediately you begin to scarf it down, your belly rumbling in satisfaction at being filled.

Hyunjin watches you, always impressed at your appetite, something he will miss once he’s gone. He sighs and sits back in his chair, an action you notice right away.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, wondering if he’s disgusted with how you’re eating.

“Y/n, there’s something I need to tell you. You know how you’ve had more nightmares and odd experiences?”

You shake your head yes, your curiosity peaked as to where he’s going with this.

“Well, I know why it’s happening…it’s because I’ve been out of the celestial realm for a long time…six months to be exact.”

“Oh,” you murmured. That would make sense, that his power would slowly diminish the longer he’s away from his home. “Well can’t you go back to reset?”

Hyunjin nods but doesn’t say anything else. “Great! Then go back and I’ll be here waiting for you!”

He bows his head. He can’t look at you, not when he’s about to break the bad news. “I can go back…but I can’t come back to you. I can only be summoned once.”

You’re silent as you take in his words. He won’t be able to come back. But what about you? What about the baby? Your little family can’t be broken up just like that. No, you won’t allow it.

“I can come with you!”

Hyunjin shakes his head no, “You can’t. Humans aren’t compatible for the celestial world.” He’s distraught, watching as tears begin to form in your eyes. You drop your hand to your belly and caress it, something you’ve been doing more frequently these days.

“But…we need you,” you wail, the tears falling freely now. You can’t go through this alone, you don’t want to be alone. You need him. You need Hyunjin.

“I know I know peach. But I have to keep you safe so our child can continue to grow. I’ll still be with you, don’t worry.”

You think of the necklace that’s been around your neck since given to you by your mother. Your fingers find the crystals, the familiar habit soothing you slightly. What choice did you have? He’s your celestial spirit after all, assigned to you to keep your dreams safe and nightmare free.

“Okay,” you say with finality, accepting his words.

Hyunjin stands up and stops in front of you. Grasping your face gently, he gazes into your eyes, memorizing how they stare back at him, how they sparkle whenever he’s the one you’re looking at. Leaning down he presses a soft kiss to your lips, lingering a little longer than he should. He doesn’t care however. He needs this last moment, needs to remember it for a lifetime. Finally he withdraws and kneels to come face to face with your belly. He presses a kiss and whispers his goodbyes to his son or daughter.

He hates he can’t be here when they are born, listen to the take their first cry, or meet their eyes as they are welcomed into the world. He knows you’re going to be a wonderful mother.

Hyunjin stands up and gives you a sad smile. “Goodbye peach.”

“Bye,” you whisper and watch him fade, on his way back to celestial realm.

One second he’s there and the next he’s gone. Tears fall freely and your body shakes as you sob. You’re crying so hard you miss the initial vibration, a sensation you haven’t felt in ages. However, you feel it once it increases in intensity and your fingers fly to the crystals, feeling Hyunjin’s presence.

You chuckle and wipe your tears, he’s here…not physically but here. You stand up and go about your day, resolving to stand strong not only for yourself, but your baby, and for Hyunjin.

Your protector, your other half, the love of your life.

“Grandma look!”

Your daughter Camellia shows your mother a butterfly, one she has caught with her own hands. You smile as she smiles and carefully cradles it, careful not to crush its wings.

“It’s beautiful,” your mother says as she gazes down at your daughter’s prize.

Camellia, a beauty with a kind heart. Nature loves her and you love her. You know he would love her as well. She has his mannerisms and smile, those dimples you can’t help but coo over, that make you gush in cuteness aggression.

She has shown promises of magic, just like her father which makes you beam with pride. You’ve moved back in with your mother, deeming the countryside a better place to raise your child, after all you were raised here. She was ecstatic at the idea, happy to be close to you once more and her grandchild.

Your necklace vibrates enthusiastically all the time, especially when Camellia’s voice rings out, almost as if Hyunjin is there, gushing over his daughter that is so much like him. Your dreams have been pleasant and you hoped your daughter would not be plagued by nightmares like you were. You were elated when you found out the trait was not passed on, allowing you to sleep better at night knowing she was safe in her psyche.

You and your mother decided to do some more research to see if any other half human, half celestial spirit children were born in this world and the results were promising. Today was the day you would try out a spell, one that would allow Camellia to travel to the celestial realm, albeit briefly.

She was excited, more than ready to meet her father that you have told her all about. Every night she’ll ask you questions and you would answer them, sharing your experiences of the love of your life. Camellia would listen in awe, bouncing in excitement in maybe meeting him one day.

Camellia bounds over to you, fixing her bag over her shoulder. “Ready mother!”

You give her a smile and pull her into a hug. “You’re going to love it there I just know it. Your father has been waiting to meet you for a long time.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” she says looking up into your eyes.

“Okay, okay, let’s not delay any longer! “ your mother says as she comes to stand next to you.

You nod and grasp your mother’s hand and together you both focus on the celestial realm, both having been there. You begin to chant a spell, one you can’t say too loud as you don’t want to mess it up. You feel a rush of wind and then it’s gone.

Camellia is gone and hopefully in the celestial realm. You’ll find out soon and you can’t wait to hear her tales.

Hyunjin waits at his door, peering out into the wilderness. He’s nervous, incredibly so. He’s heard her voice but that’s about it. Will you like him? What will you look like: a little him or a little you?

He here’s a branch break and he squints, hoping to see if she’s arrived, but she hasn’t…it must have been an animal. He glances at his watch, she should be here by now. Did the spell not work? Did something happen in the middle of transport?

No, he must think positive thoughts. She will be here in a moment.

Suddenly, he smells strawberries and he’s immediately transported to a time when he used to bury his face in your hair, breath in the scent of the strawberry shampoo you loved so much. He looks up eagerly and sees a figure immerse from the forest.

A tiny girl appears, dressed in a dress that remind him of you. Little ringlet curls frames her face and she’s clutching her bag as if unsure of what to do next. Hyunjin is taken aback at the sight, his heart overwhelmed with love. He’s so happy you chose such a fitting name for a child that was made from love and represented the flowers he worked with so often.

Slowly he takes a step forward and the girl notices, stopping briefly in her tracks. He breaks out in a smile, one that reaches his eyes and with joy speaks the name of his daughter.

Camellia

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek @skzdreamer13 @lezleeferguson-120 @hyunjincanraptoo

#stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #stray kids fluff #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fluff #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz fluff #hyunjin x you #stray kids x you

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nowimjustastranger · 15 hours ago

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I saw this art and my unhelpful brain decided that it wanted to write something for this instead of finishing any of the several dozen wips that I have. But like, no regrets because I've been wanting to write an AU that's more on the creepier side and FrankenStan is the perfect medium for that.

So, without further ado... enjoy!

Stan scrutinized the haggard being in the mirror, his hands braced on the white countertop. They had been covered in grime last Stan saw them –much like the rest of him– but now they were squeaky clean. There wasn’t even dirt under his fingernails anymore. His newfound cleanliness came off as an attempt to erase the wear and tear of the last decade.

Stan still didn’t know how he felt about Ford washing him when he was a corpse.

His body, once an unmarked canvas that life had not yet touched, had become riddled with scars after he was kicked to the curb. And now he was a patchwork of stitches, the worst of the scarring removed with careful cuts before new skin was sewn into place. Each ugly reminder of what he’d survived was replaced with his brother’s handiwork, Ford literally piecing him back together.

Besides, Stan would rather be covered in scars from his brother than keep the marks from all of the unsavory characters that he’s had the misfortune of getting mixed up with over the years.

There was a y-shaped cut spanning nearly the entire length of his torso, stopping just above where the hem of his jeans would be if he hadn’t stripped down after turning the shower on. One of his hands left the counter to brush the pads of his fingers over the raised skin, and there was the distant sensation of what might be pain, but it was just an echo.

Stan’s fingers pressed down harder and curled into the wound, three of the stitches holding it shut tearing, blood gushing from the ragged hole that he had created. The curious digits sunk deeper with a wet sound, dull brown eyes blankly staring at his questing fingers through the mirror. His right eye was a familiar brown but the other was slightly off, the color just a few shades too light.

A timid knock at the door startled him, tearing his eyes away from the fingers buried to the hilt in his chest to the wooden obstruction. He blinked, clawing his way back to the surface, looking around once he was more present in his body. The sheer amount of blood covering both his front and the floor had him grimacing, though he couldn’t help but experimentally wiggle the fingers that he had stuffed into his own chest just to feel that not-quite-pain again.

“Stanley, I brought you a towel and some clothe–” Ford’s voice grew clearer as the door opened and he poked his head in, freezing with one foot in the bathroom. Stan found Ford’s eyes in the reflection, but he was staring at the fingers buried in Stan’s bloody wound, the color rapidly draining from his face. Ford’s grip on the neatly folded stack of fabric went slack and he closed the distance between them, reaching Stan before the pile even hit the ground in a messy heap.

“Stanley! What are you doing!?” Ford demanded, his voice the closest to shrill that his vocal cords could manage. Stan didn’t resist when Ford grabbed his wrist to carefully extract the digits from the gaping hole, blood pouring out unimpeded once his fingers were removed and there was nothing plugging it up anymore.

Ford made a wounded sound that had Stan’s insides clenching with guilt, turning his head away so he didn’t have to look at the devastation and terror on his brother’s face. Ford had yet to let go of Stan’s wrist, grip so tight that it should hurt, but it didn’t. Truthfully, Stan didn’t remember a time in his life where he wasn’t feeling some type of pain. From the sting of shallow cuts and splinters as an adventurous kid, to the ache of bumps and bruises as a stubborn teen, and finally to the burn of beatings and broken bones as a piece of shit adult.

“Stanley? Stanley, talk to me. Please?” Ford pleaded and Stan nearly gave himself whiplash with how fast his head turned to look at Ford, who hadn’t sounded that small and scared since his age hit the double digits.

He opened his mouth to say something –maybe a joke, maybe reassurances, even he didn’t know what would come out of him at this point– when he suddenly paused. A blood vessel in Ford’s right eye had burst, red creeping into white, and Stan abruptly found himself rooted in place. A chill crawled down Stan’s spine, fear settling heavy in his gut as his fight or flight instincts stirred.

Something was looking back at him.

Watching.

“Stanley?” Ford called, his tone less panicked and more wary now, and Stan soon realized why when he snapped out of his intense staring only to find that he had squared up against his brother. Stan stiffly took a step back, his body resisting with all the ferocity of a cornered animal as he forced it to relax into a less aggressive stance. He was losing it, he had to be. There was nothing staring at him from his brother’s eye, that was fucking crazy.

Ford should’ve just cut his losses and buried his corpse in a shallow grave out in the woods somewhere.

“Sorry. Jumpy.” Stan offered lamely, scrubbing a hand over his face as he shuffled further away to put more distance between them. He cringed when he realized that he was ass-naked in front of his brother, less ashamed and more worried about Ford’s sense of modesty or whatever. Ford had hated when Stan would walk around the house in his boxers as a teen, and now here Stan was with not a scrap of fabric on him in Ford’s house.

“Unusual side effects are only to be expected.” Ford grunted dismissively, seemingly letting it go as he marched over to the discarded towel and clothes to pick them up and brush them off before refolding them. He set them onto the countertop when he was done fussing, then he crouched down to grab a large first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink.

“I need to replace the stitches.” Ford murmured, beckoning Stan over with a sharp jerk of his head. Stan hesitated for a moment before ultimately shuffling over to him, though he kept a respectful gap between them since he didn’t think that Ford would like Stan’s bare skin brushing up against him. Ford had always been skittish about touch, sometimes he couldn’t stand it and sometimes it was like he needed it more than air.

Ford surprised Stan by closing the space between them, pressing a warm hand to Stan’s side to guide him to sit on the toilet lid. Ford would no doubt sanitize it later, along with the rest of the bathroom considering there was a significant amount of blood pooled on the floor where Stan had been standing. Stan tried not to feel guilty about it. Failed.

Stan felt that distant pang again as Ford removed the ripped stitches and replaced them, the pull of skin was all he registered. Ford’s hands were steady but his expression was pinched, his worry and guilt recognizable even with a decade of estrangement between them. Little did Ford know, Stan remembered what happened, though he had lied and said he didn’t when Ford had asked.

Ford had looked so scared when he brought up their lackluster reunion that Stan lied. He didn’t regret it though, not when Ford looked so relieved to hear that Stan didn't have any memory of Ford’s hostility and then their fight in the basement. Stan had felt like shit, the infected incision on his side pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

Being on the run with a kidney missing was… an experience, to say the least. One that he never wanted to repeat.

Stan remembered the feeling of Ford’s boot pressing against his chest, pushing him back. He remembered how his right shoulder erupted with white-hot agony, the scent of burning skin making his head spin. Then the foot was gone and Stan had slumped over onto the side that still had a kidney, his chest hurt and his stomach churned. He couldn’t seem to breathe properly either, black encroaching from the edges of his vision.

Then… nothing.

Stan assumes that he lost consciousness, but he’s still not sure how exactly he died. Ford was awfully tight-lipped on the matter too, visibly uncomfortable. So, against his better judgement, Stan let it lie for the time being. Ford had looked… bad. Worse than when Stan had initially come face to face with him. The dark circles darker and eyes wild, his hair an utter mess and the same clothes that he had been wearing when they reunited were now dirtied with dried blood.

Ford had yet to clean himself up and change since he insisted that Stan get the first shower, which led to the present where Ford was packing up the first aid kit, his brows furrowed like he wanted to ask a question but hesitated to do so for whatever reason. Ford had a habit of getting all up in his own head, overcomplicating things or needlessly worrying.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Stan prompted and Ford’s face smoothed out, his emotional shields slamming down in an instant. It was like highschool all over again, though Stan had no one but himself to blame for how that turned out. If he had just been a better son, a better brother, just… better. Things would’ve been different.

“You don’t need to worry, Stanley.” Ford grunted, putting the first aid kit away but otherwise making no move to make himself scarce. Stan couldn’t really blame him for his unwillingness to leave Stan to his own devices, especially after he found Stan fucking around with one of his stitched-up wounds. So Stan didn’t comment, opting to make his way to the shower and step under the steaming spray.

The hot water was blissful, warming Stan from the outside in. He left the curtain pulled open just enough that he was able to peek out every so often as he went through the process of washing himself, finding the bathroom empty but the door left wide open, Ford returning with rubber gloves on and a bucket of cleaning supplies within a few minutes.

Ford wiped down both the toilet and counter before starting on the floor, scrubbing the cold and sticky blood off the tile. Stan occasionally checked his progress, impressed and a little uneasy in equal measure about how much he seemed to know concerning proper clean-up. Stan himself had been a cleaner for Rico rather than a smuggler, he was less apprehensive about cleaning up a crime scene than potentially participating in human trafficking.

Still, he had eventually sent an anonymous tip to the authorities when he had been called to clean a family massacre. One of Rico’s men had been skimming off the top and Rico had made an example of him and his family. One of the mutilated bodies was a fucking six year old, and her death obviously hadn’t been fast or painless.

But Rico had half the precinct in his pocket and Stan was given a warning by way of ambushing him in his motel room, knocking him out with a blow to the head. He had woken up naked in a tub, his side hurting like a bitch and head throbbing. He was alone, his clothes neatly folded and pockets cleaned out, his possessions lined up on the counter.

When Stan struggled out of the tub with uncooperative limbs and lots of cursing, stumbling over to check his wallet first and then his phone, he found a text from Rico waiting. That’s when he realized just how deep he was, stuck in a cage that he had voluntarily walked into, even shutting the door behind him. He was an idiot to think that he could get involved with the cartel and not end up in a shallow grave.

So he ran.

“–ley. Stanley.” Ford said urgently, snapping Stan out of his trance. He blinked, the burbling drain coming into stark clarity. The water was lukewarm at best now, Ford’s hands a hot brand on his slick skin. And, judging by the distress written all over Ford’s face, he had been trying to get a response from Stan for longer than he was comfortable with.

“...sorry.” Stan mumbled, reaching for the knob only for Ford to gently knock his hand away to do it himself, the spray dying down to a rhythmic drip. Then Ford pulled the shower curtain open further, briefly stepping away to snag the fluffy towel, before returning to wrap it around Stan’s shoulders. He hovered as Stan stepped out of the tub, body moving on automatic.

Stan couldn’t find it in himself to protest when Ford took the towel and started carefully rubbing him down with it, starting with his hair and working downward. Thankfully, Ford skipped over Stan’s crotch and ass, simply passing Stan the towel once he was done with Stan’s calves so Stan could do it himself, Ford hurrying over to the counter to fetch the clean clothes.

The silence was oppressive, like a physical weight bearing down on Stan’s shoulders, but he had yet to scrounge up the courage to break it. But something had to give and, as the confrontational twin, Stan usually took it upon himself to crack open Ford’s hard outer shell. Stan didn’t even know if he could still reach the familiar boy who was hidden beneath layer upon layer of Ford’s protective walls.

But fuck if Stan wasn’t going to give it his best shot.

I T ' S A L I V E

click for better quality

#gravity falls #frankenstan au #stan pines #ford pines #stan and ford #stan twins #tw: nudity #tw: blood #tw: stan messes with one of his wounds

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mxxnechos · 1 day ago

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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ red marks

a/n: this is entirely self-indulgent. I won’t lie about that LMAO, I don’t know if this happens to other skin tones, so I am terribly sorry it won’t be as inclusive as I want it to be (I try and make my writing as inclusive as possible for anyone!!). I am white and my skin is very sensitive when I scratch it, so this is very common for me, so I apologise for those who are looking for inclusive skin tone stuff :(

pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader in mind, though Jaybin does use “ma” because even if I’m agender, I have a soft spot for him saying that

genre: fluff, kind of slice of life

words: 1k -- should be okay but tell me if there's any mistakes I missed!!

summary: Jason spots red marks on your skin, gets super worried, and won’t stop asking if you’re okay.

art on the right is by @/ciricearts & dividers by @/saradika-graphics!!

You stood in your kitchen, scratching your upper arm for what would be now for the better part of 5 minutes. The noise of sharp yet shorter nails running against skin filled the room, or more so your ears, as you waited for that faint ding of your microwave. The milk filled mug turning in circles as you absentmindedly waited for the timer to hit zero, your fingers running over your skin without you realising. Hot chocolate was always nice company while you waited for Jason to come home. Your brain was starting to blank out more and more while the soft electronic hum of the microwave mixed in with the sound of nails against skin, your eyes slowly losing focus on the dark wooden floor. Maybe you could—

Ding!

Your hand stops its constant up and down motion on your arm, your nails scratching the skin for one last time before you moved off of the counter to retrieve your mug. Your mind blanked once more between the time you got the cocoa and sugar, and the time you were already sipping on your finished drink. And then Jason was back.

He’s tired. He’s tired and he wants to be in your arms more than anything. But at least he’s home soon. At least he’s only tired and not badly hurt. And as soon as he’s held safely in your arms, he’ll be home.

Now, Jason just wanted to go back to your apartment, change and shower, and have the best sleep next to you. But then, of course, some stuff had to go a bit sideways (he’s being a bit dramatic).

What he comes back to instead is your gorgeous self in the kitchen, mug in hand, with big, red, extremely red, marks on your arm. It was worrying. Your skin flaked off a bit, and was red. And his mind went off.

“Sweetheart?” His voice came out a bit cracked as he hurriedly took his helmet off and placed on your table. He was quick to be by your side, your arm gently held by his hands, as if you were a precious jewel he was trying everything in his power to not damage.

You, mind still somewhat blank, shook awake out of your trance. A smile came up on your face as you set the mug down.

“Hi Jayjay,” you spoke softly, your voice portraying perfectly your tiredness. “How was patrol? Are you hurt?” A small worry took over your face, but you knew he’d be acting worse if he was badly hurt.

“Sweets, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter if I’m hurt,” his voice was pure worry, his eyes and body the same. “You’re hurt, what happened to your arm? Does it hurt a lot? We should put ice and cream on it. How’d you get it? Did someone do that? I swear to everything if someone did—” He’d started rambling, moving around the kitchen as his hurried words matched his hurried movements. He’s looking around cabinets and drawers, looking for that cream he’d mentioned, though it never resided in the kitchen to begin with. You just stared at him in confusion, unsure of what he was rambling about. Once his anger came out, showing that side of him that would about hurt anyone for you, you cut him off with a soft sweet laugh. He stopped dead in his tracks, and turned to look at you.

“I’m serious ma, did someone hurt you?” He asked again, a pout on his lips, though his demeanour had softened because of your laugh.

“Jay, hun, I have no idea what you’re on about,” a small sheepish smile formed on your face, as he frowned again. “Your arm, ma.”

You looked down at your arms, finding one significantly more red than the other, accompanied with some scratch marks. You were stunned, because when did that get here? You stared down at it for a moment, all the while Jason’s worry was worsening.

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt ma?” He asked once more, before jumping back into action. “I need to find you that cream.” He hurriedly started looking through the drawers with a determination to not see you hurting anymore.

You kept staring at your arms as the puzzle pieces clicked together in your mind. And when the picture was done, you couldn’t help yourself but laugh.

You tried calling out to him through your laughs, though he wouldn’t listen.

“No, no! You’re hurt ma, can’t let you be hurt.”

“Jay— Jay, please look at me,” you said between giggles. “Jason.”

Hearing his full name made him stop and turn to you with a pout. You’d so rarely use his full name, it was always a nickname, a pet name, anything different. You’d only use it when he had to listen to you.

“Yeah?” He mumbled quietly, looking at you with that sad pout on his face, his voice so full of worry and care. His boyishness always came out in moments like this.

“Oh hun,” you chuckled, taking a step towards him to cradle his face in your hands. He leaned in on instinct. “I was just scratching my arm, see?” You smiled sweetly, demonstrating it by running your nails against your forearm. Few seconds after, and red-ish scratch marks appeared on your skin, following the path your nails took. Your hands found his cheeks again, as you pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’m okay, baby.”

Jason gently gripped your forearms as he leaned in closer to you. He gently turned your arm around to examine the marks, who were already disappearing, the big splotch of red on your upper arm already almost entirely faded, to a much lighter colour. Only then did he let out a big breath, wrapped his big arms around your waist, and buried his head deep in the crook of your neck, now breathing you in. Your arms wrapped around his neck, a hand slowly racking through his hair.

You both stayed like that for a while, holding each other, breathing them in.

…

“Can’t believe you got scared because I had an itch.”

“Shut uppppppppppp”

A long playfully annoyed groan merged with laughter in the quietness of the apartment.

again, this is entirely self-indulgent lmao, this happens to me way too much, I'll barely scratch my skin and then there's red marks on my skin for a good MINUTE, it's annoyinggggggg

I hope you guys enjoyed it, even if it isn't as inclusiv as it could be (which I am again sorry for)

I've been gone for a short minute, real sorry, I've been super busy with school and I essentially shouldn't even have been writting this in the first place considering I'm in exam season but I couldn't help myselfffffff

also!! I'm finally going to be properly setting up my blog soon, so that's going to be fun!! stay tuned for that I guess, and more stories because I wrote this in a day which is considerably really short for me :P

#echo writes!!#jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood #jason todd fanfiction #jason my sweet boy #jason todd x you #jason todd fic #jason todd dc

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jnhuius · 2 days ago

Text

NIGHT OF SECRECY

pairing. joshua hong x afab!14th member!reader

genre. nsfw / smut

wc. 1,926

content warnings / tags. one scene is inspired by this joshua drabble !! (original author is wonwootattoo), porn with a little bit of plot, let's pretend all of the members still share one dorm, secret relationship, kissing (a lot of it), nicknames (my love, baby, good girl), passing mention of marking/hickeys, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (pls wrap it b4 u tap it!), rough sex, p in v, he comes inside, i hate the ending :(

author's note. ❗please reblog ❗ what do i do instead of sleeping? write a smut fic for mr. hong... i fear i've been obsessed with 14th member fics so forgive me for this self indulgent fic... i love joshua and i needed to write him in one way or another 🙏🏻 ALSO THE LACK OF NEW JOSHUA FICS IS INSANE 💔 anyway hope y'all enjoy this

“Hey, Y/N, want to join us? We're going out,” Jeonghan asked.

You shook your head, lounging on the couch as you scrolled through your phone.

“I'm not in the mood to go out today, but have fun and stay safe. Just bring me home some food.”

The members all called out a collective “yes” as they left one by one.

You glanced out the window. The sun was setting, and it was obvious they were heading somewhere to drink until late. You didn’t want to be the one puking her guts out until tomorrow.

You sighed just as Joshua stepped out of his room. You perked up, sitting up with a smile. He approached slowly and placed a gentle hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch.

“Are you going with them?” you asked.

He nodded. “Mhm. I promise I won’t drink too much. Hopefully, they don’t force me to go all out,” he chuckled.

You smiled, nodding in agreement. He leaned down, kissing you softly, the gesture sweet and familiar.

“Stay safe. I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

He hummed, deepening the kiss just a little.

“I love you. I’ll be back soon,” he said, pulling away to press a kiss to your forehead before straightening up.

You waved goodbye as he headed to the door, pretending to walk slowly and sadly. You giggled, playing along with the act until he stepped out and shut the door behind him.

You smiled as you laid back on the couch. Your relationship with him was a big gamble—being the youngest and the only woman in the group, and dating the third eldest member.

You’d been together for five months now. You both agreed to keep it a secret at first—to see how things would go. You didn’t want your relationship to affect the group dynamics in case it didn’t work out. Eventually, you planned to tell the others… just not yet.

After a few hours of doom scrolling on your phone, you saw it was already 8 p.m. With nothing else to do and feeling tired, you decided to just sleep.

You went into Joshua’s room and stole one of his hoodies before returning to yours. After washing up, you slipped it on—wearing only your underwear underneath—and crawled into bed.

Living with thirteen men usually meant wearing pajamas or shorts just in case, but tonight they were likely too drunk to remember you existed, let alone stumble into your room.

You yawned, enjoying the softness of the comforter against your skin. Wonwoo was probably jealous—you were always the one left alone while they dragged him out.

Smiling to yourself, you closed your eyes and slowly drifted off.

—

Joshua groaned, rubbing his forehead as he entered the dorm. He had barely managed to escape the clutches of the drunk members who wouldn’t let him leave.

Before, he used to stay out with them until they all decided to head home together. But now, with you in his life, he always wanted to return earlier—to spend those quiet, precious moments with you without having to pretend you were just another bandmate.

He sighed, walking toward your room first. He peeked inside, the space dim aside from the soft glow of your Kuromi nightlight—the one he’d given you for your birthday.

You were fast asleep. Of course you were—it was already past 11 p.m.

He tiptoed in, gently pulling the blanket down from your face just enough to place a kiss on your forehead. Then he stood back up and quietly left to shower. You’d always told him not to lie on your bed with “outside clothes,” and he respected that.

After showering, he put on a white tank top and a pair of black shorts. He towel-dried his hair quickly, unable to keep himself from going right back to your room. He stepped in and locked the door behind him.

Joshua padded over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Carefully pulling the blanket down again, he found you curled around Shuasumi—his miniteen plushie.

He almost laughed, biting back the urge to pinch your cheeks from how cute you looked. Slowly, he pried the deer plushie from your arms and tossed it to the corner of the room.

You stirred, groaning as you slowly woke to the feeling of familiar hands gently guiding your body onto your back.

“Joshi?” you murmured, voice thick with sleep as you rubbed your eyes and stretched your legs beneath the blanket.

“Hi, my love,” your boyfriend answered, a dazzling smile lighting up his face.

With one knee on the mattress, Joshua leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss, his hand gently gripping your chin as he tried to deepen it without hesitation.

You whined, pushing at his chest.

“Where’s my Shuasumi plush?”

Joshua blinked, taken aback for a second before resting his forehead against yours, a breathy laugh escaping him.

“I’m trying to kiss my girlfriend, and you're thinking about a miniteen plushie?”

“Where’d you throw him?” you pouted, sitting up with sleepy annoyance.

“You don’t need him. You have me. I’m home now,” he chuckled, gently guiding you back down onto the bed as he hovered over you.

His hand tangled in your hair, pulling it a bit harshly to angle your face so he could kiss you properly—but not with innocent intentions anymore.

You moaned as you felt his hips move against yours, causing him to push his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues moved against each other as he gripped your waist, grinding his bulge against your core.

He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips as he kissed down your jaw.

“Where’s the other members?” You whimpered, feeling him suck behind your ear, a sensitive zone that he discovered a few months ago.

“Still out. Don't worry, we'll be done by the time they get back,” he now fully pulled off the covers, spreading your legs even further. You felt his hand slide down in between your thighs, a gasp leaving your lips as his thumb came into contact with your covered clit.

“Ah—Shua,” you whimpered, feeling him put pressure as he rubbed circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You bit your bottom lip as you felt one hand pull the fabric of your panties to the side while the other was in his mouth to lubricate it using his saliva before rubbing it on your slit.

Your clit was in between his index and middle finger as he rubbed your slit, making you even more wet and arch your back. You felt a finger teasing your entrance before gently pushing in, eliciting a gasp from you. He was being gentle, knowing how big his hands are.

“Joshua, fuck—” you dug your fingernails on his arm as you felt him insert another finger inside, slowly starting to thrust it in and out.

“I can feel you tightening around me. Are you this turned on just by fingers already?” He breathlessly chuckled. He continued to move his fingers before circling your clit using his thumb.

“Come on, I need you to cum before I enter you,” he moved his fingers a bit faster and you swore you saw stars as you came undone around him. Your thighs shook, his name being the only thing you were saying as he let you ride out your climax. He continued to thrust his fingers inside you, before pulling out and licking it clean.

“You're a pervert, you know that?” You said, laying on the bed limply.

He chuckled. “Woozi isn't against my gentleman agenda for no reason, sweetheart.”

He leaned down, kissing you deeply while his hands slid down to the hem of your hoodie to pull it off of your body. He kissed your shoulder, before sliding down to your chest. He kissed the valley of your breasts before his hands grabbed one of your boobs, fondling it gently as you moaned.

His thumb then finds your hardened nipple, instinctively rolling over them immediately. You bit your lip as he pulled away, leaning down to capture your nipple in his mouth. You whimpered, feeling his tongue tease your nipple, licking circles before sucking on it.

He did the same to the other one, not stopping for a few minutes before pulling away. He took off his tank top, pulling down his shorts to free his erection while his hand also pulled down your panties. His cock stood proudly against your stomach. It's been inside of you a few times now, but it was still scary.

He rubbed the tip against your clit, letting it get wet from your release. He lined it up with your entrance before slowly and gently pushing inside of you. He moaned as he was sheathed inside of you.

“Oh… good girl, you're taking me in so well,” he gasped, pulling out and gently thrusting back in. You could feel every vein on his length, and it wasn't helping your sensitivity.

“Joshua, holy fuck—” He covered your mouth, leaning down to line up his mouth to your ear.

“Shhh, the members might come home at any second. Keep quiet for me, alright?” He began to thrust a lot more harsher, the bed slightly creaking from the movement. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his tip hit the sensitive spot inside of you. You moaned loudly against Joshua's palm.

“I found it already?” He chuckled before thrusting to hit the same spot over and over again. Your toes curled as one of his hands raised your leg on his shoulders, letting him angle his hips to reach much deeper inside you.

Slowly, his pace was slowly starting to get more fast, rough and erratic. After a few seconds, he was basically fucking you like an animal in heat with how fast he was pounding inside of you.

“Shua—I’m close,” you whimpered.

He nodded, kissing your jaw, “Me too, baby, me too.”

He pulled his hand away from your mouth, his hands spreading your legs even further as he thrusted hard and rough inside of you. You used your hand to muffle your moans, tears pricking your eyes at how good it felt.

“Please, don't stop, only a bit more—” You cried out before coming undone around him for the second time, crying out his name like it was a prayer.

Joshua followed, moaning against your ear as he emptied himself inside you. He rode out his orgasm, thrusting it and out for a bit before pulling out. His release dripped out of your entrance as you laid limp on your bed.

“I'll clean us up, hold on,” Joshua said, out of breath as he stood up to go to your bathroom. He returned clothed, with a towel in his hand. He sat down on the edge of the bed, cleaning you up as he helped you put your clothes back on.

“I have to leave now. The other members might see us,” he said gently, contrasting how he was acting a few minutes ago.

“...Alright,” you nodded. He leaned down, kissing your face. You sighed, relishing his affection before he pulled away.

“I love you, good night,” he returned Shuasumi to you suddenly, you didn't even notice where he pulled him from.

You giggled, “I love you, good night as well,” he kissed you one last time before leaving you alone in your room to actually sleep.

You were excited to tell the members about the two of you soon.

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elswhore · 12 hours ago

Text

RETURN THE FAVOR

──what started as a innocent massage, billie gave the offer back to you yeah.. "innocently"

──light bondage. edging. begging. dirty talk. fingering. begging.

the only sounds on your apartment is the distant hum of the city outside and the faint creak of your couch as billie collapsed onto it.

she’d just come from a grueling day of media, interviews, photo shoots, the works, and she looked like she’d been wrung out and left to dry.

her oversized black hoodie was half zipped, her hair a chaotic mess, and her pale skin glistened faintly with the exhaustion of the day.

whe sprawled across the cushions, one arm flung over her face, groaning dramatically.

“fuck my life.” she muttered, voice rough and muffled.

“my back’s screaming, my brain’s mush, and i swear, if one more person asks me about my 'creative process' i’m gonna lose it.”

you leaned against the armrest, smirking as you nudged her leg with your knee.

“poor little superstar, world domination’s rough, huh?” she peeked out from under her arm, her eyes glinting with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

“don’t start with me, i just need, like, a coma, or a new body.”

“or…” you said, an idea flickering to life as you watched her roll her shoulders, wincing.

“how about a massage? i’ve got magic hands, you’ll be a puddle in ten minutes.”

billie raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly grin.

“magic hands, huh? big talk., aright, fine, but if you suck, i’m never letting you live it down.”

“challenge accepted.” you said, grabbing some scented lotion from the coffee table.

billie sat up, shrugging off her hoodie to reveal a tight black tank top that clung to her frame, her skin pale and freckled under the dim lamplight.

she turned her back to you, sitting cross legged, and you warmed the lotion in your palms before pressing them to her shoulders.

“fuck, yes.” she groaned as your thumbs dug into the knots beneath her skin, her head tipping forward.

“okay, maybe you’re not full of shit.” you laughed, working your way down her spine, your fingers gliding over tense muscles.

the air shifted as you touched her, the casual intimacy of your friendship taking on a charged edge.

you’d always been close, best friends who shared secrets, laughs, and late night confessions.

but the way her breath hitched when your fingers brushed the sensitive spot at the base of her neck sent a jolt through you.

your pulse quickened, and you tried to focus on the task, but the heat of her skin under your hands was making it hard to think.

“feel good?” you asked, keeping your voice steady even as your thoughts wandered to dangerous places.

“too fucking good..” she murmured, her voice low and husky.

you grinned, but before you could fire back, billie moved like a predator.

in one swift motion, she spun around, grabbed your wrists, and flipped you onto your back, pinning you to the couch.

you gasped, heart racing as she straddled your hips, her knees bracketing you in place.

her hair fell around her face like a dark curtain, and her eyes, sharp, hungry, and a little wicked, locked onto yours.

“billie, what the fuc—” you started, but she silenced you with a smirk that sent heat flooding through you.

“my turn.” she said, her voice a low growl that made your stomach flip.

“you’ve been so good to me, baby, think it’s time i show you how i take care of you.”

your breath caught as she leaned down, her lips brushing your ear, her breath hot against your skin.

“you want that, don’t you?” she whispered, her tone teasing laced with command.

“tell me you’re mine tonight.” ypu nodded, your voice failing you, but that wasn’t enough for her.

she nipped at your earlobe, making you gasp.

“use your words.” she said, her hand sliding under your shirt, nails grazing your stomach.

“say it.”

“im yours.” you managed, your voice trembling with want.

“please, billie.” her grin was pure sin.

“good girl.” she purred, and the praise hit you like a drug, making your head spin.

she sat back, her hands moving to the hem of your shirt.

“arms up.” she ordered, and you obeyed, letting her pull the fabric over your head and toss it aside.

her eyes raked over you, as she reached for her hoodie’s drawstring, yanking it free.

“hands.” she said, and before you could process it, she was wrapping the soft cord around your wrists, tying them together above your head.

it wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough to make you feel deliciously helpless.

she leaned down, her lips hovering over yours.

“you look so fucking pretty like this.” she said, her voice dripping with heat.

“all tied up for me.” you whimpered, tugging lightly at the restraint, and she chuckled, low and dark.

“oh, you’re gonna be fun.” she said, her fingers trailing down your chest, teasing the edge of your bra before snapping the strap lightly, making you jolt.

“stay still, baby. i’m just getting started.” she unhooked your bra with practiced ease, tossing it aside, and her hands were on you, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples until you arched into her touch.

“so sensitive.” she murmured, her tone almost mocking as she pinched lightly, drawing a moan from you.

“you like that, huh? bet you’re already soaked.” she didn’t wait for an answer.

her hands moved lower, unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down with your underwear in one swift motion.

the cool air hit your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of her gaze as she spread your thighs, settling between them.

you were exposed, vulnerable, and the way she looked at you, like you were hers to devour, made your core throb.

“fuck, look at you.” she said, her fingers brushing your inner thighs, teasingly close but not touching where you needed her most.

“so wet already, been thinking about me, haven’t you?”

“yes,” you gasped, your hips bucking as she dragged a single finger through your folds, slow and deliberate.

“billie, please—”

“patience.” she said, her voice sharp as she gave your thigh a light smack, the sting sending a thrill through you.

“you don’t get to call the shots, i do.” you moaned, the mix of her dominance and the slight pain pushing you closer to the edge already.

she smirked, clearly enjoying your desperation, and leaned down to kiss you, hard, possessive, her tongue claiming your mouth as her fingers circled your clit, teasing but not giving you enough.

you writhed beneath her, tugging at the cord around your wrists, but she held you in place with her free hand, her grip firm on your hip.

“keep still.” she said against your lips, her voice a low growl.

“or i’ll make you wait even longer.” you whimpered, forcing yourself to stay still as she pushed a finger inside you, slow and deliberate, curling just right.

your moan was swallowed by her kiss, and she added a second finger, stretching you, setting a rhythm that was just shy of what you needed.

she was teasing you, edging you, keeping you dangling on the brink.

“billie, please, faster..” you begged, your voice breaking.

she pulled back, her eyes glinting with mischief,

“you don’t get to beg yet,” she said, her fingers slowing until you whined in frustration.

“i’m gonna make you earn it.” she withdrew her fingers entirely, and you nearly sobbed at the loss, but then she was moving, shifting to straddle your thigh, her own arousal slick against your skin as she ground down lightly.

the sight of her head tilted back, lips parted, her tank top riding up to expose her stomach nearly undid you.

“want me to fuck you?” she asked, her voice rough as she leaned down, her fingers gripping your chin to force you to meet her gaze.

“then tell me how bad you want it.”

“so bad,” you gasped, your voice raw.

“i need you, billie.. please, fuck me. i'll do anything.”

her grin was triumphant. “that’s my girl.” she said, and then her fingers were back, thrusting into you hard and fast, her thumb pressing against your clit in a way that made your vision blur.

you cried out, your hips bucking as she worked you with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

but just as you were about to tip over, she stopped, pulling her hand away.

you whined, tears pricking your eyes, but she just laughed softly, leaning down to kiss you.

“not yet, baby.” she said, her voice both cruel and sweet.

“i want you to feel this.” she did it again, bringing you to the brink, then stopping, over and over until you were a trembling, pleading mess beneath her.

your wrists strained against the cord, your body aching for release, and she reveled in it, her own breaths coming faster as she watched you unravel.

“billie, please, i can’t—” you sobbed, your voice breaking.

“you can,” she said, her tone firm but laced with affection.

“and you will, for me.” finally, when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, she leaned down, her lips brushing yours as her fingers slid back inside you, faster, harder, her thumb circling your clit with ruthless precision.

“come for me, baby.” she whispered, her voice a command and a caress.

“let me feel you.” that was all it took, your body arched, a scream tearing from your throat as the orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, pleasure crashing through you in relentless waves.

billie didn’t stop, drawing it out, her fingers working you through it until you were shaking, oversensitive and gasping.

when you finally collapsed, boneless and panting, she slowed, her touch gentle now as she kissed you softly, her dominance melting into tenderness.

she untied your wrists, rubbing the faint marks with her thumbs, and pulled you into her arms, her lips brushing your forehead.

“you okay, baby?” she asked, her voice soft, a stark contrast to the intensity of before.

you nodded, still catching your breath, a lazy smile spreading across your face.

“holy shit, billie, that was…”

“fucking unreal?” she finished, grinning as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“yeah, you’re welcome.” you laughed, weak but blissful, and snuggled closer, your body still humming.

“you’re gonna kill me one of these days.” she smirked, her hand sliding down to rest possessively on your hip. “oh, babe, we’re just getting started.”

#billie x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish x y/n #wlw #lesbian #wlw smut #billie eilishb #billie eilish x reader

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zepskies · 10 hours ago

Text

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Aw that makes me so happy, friend! Thank you!! 🥹💓💓

I love hunter!readers, but the soft!readers really have my heart. Not that a hunter!reader couldn't be soft per say, but I just love how cutesy she is.

Oh yeah, totally love the hunters to lovers dynamic, but I love writing women that can be strong and have moments of vulnerability. And thank you!! This reader has a special place in my heart now lol 💕

You're so right. Benny should have asked more questions!! Benny should have had the talk with Dean and if he is Dean's best friend he should have known. It kinda makes it sadder though. But I'll bet the epilogue kinda explains that a bit too 🥰 But at the same time yes, Benny was a good guy for stepping up and stepping in.

Oh you're right, it does make it sadder because everyone had a choice here and an opportunity to talk it out. 😭 But yes, doesn't change the fact that Benny was a good man to the reader and Robbie. ❤️❤️ (Oh yeah, the epilogue will def get into that part of the Benny storyline. ❤️)

It really is. I bet that Ben/Soldier Boy would let his kid watch something too soon and then live with the consequences when he can't have sex with the reader for a month because the kid sleeps in the bed with them 🤣

Omfgggg HE SO WOULD. 🤣🤣 He'd be all "What's the big fucking deal?" Until his evening "plans" are ruined by his poor traumatized child getting in between. And reader going, "See??" as she holds the baby instead of him. 🤣

Don't be sorry, near-death experiences that make people realize they love one another is the kind of angst I live for LOL

Ahahaha same though 😈

It really was wonderfully realistic- all the emotions all the drama, it was beautiful! I also think that it resonates more that way- making it about the internal and external struggle with relationships rather than some big-bad to fight. Because sometimes the big-bad is the little voice inside that makes you push everything down or sometimes the big-bad is you? If that makes sense lol.

Oh thank you, my lovely. I really appreciate that, and that you think it resonates more that way. 🥹❤️ And yes that very much is the crux of this story -- that sometimes you're your own worst enemy, and sometimes you stumble and fall on your face and hurt the people around you, however unintentionally. It takes a lot of growing and maturing to figure out this thing called life. 💜

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that happened when I was in my two weeks off period 😅 But I don't think it's so much as you not having 'thick skin' or being 'defensive'- I see it more as you being open to the criticism, but them not giving you anything constructive. If someone says 'oh that's stupid' but then don't tell you why, it becomes more about the writer than what they wrote.

Oh sorry! I can't remember if we talked about it or not. Really it wasn't even worth getting into anyway. However that's how I felt about it. There's a big difference between constructive criticism and criticism.

But oh yeah no. The fact that they felt the need to also send in an ask criticizing you even more is just uncalled for. I don't blame you for answering it, it would have annoyed me too- especially because lately I feel like the meaner anons think they're helping writers by being super rude?

Oh yeah, some anons get spicy with it lmao. I tend hit them back with, if you really believe you're right and want me to take you seriously, say it with your chest and talk to me non-anonymously. It's a kind of entitled behavior. We write what we want to write.

Yes exactly! The AU is "different!" It's more about the relationships and drama and miscommunication! (slightly mad at you for that last one jkjk 🤣) AU's are supposed to be different, that's literally it- alternate universe. Which is why they didn't like it, because they didn't understand it. 😬

Exaaactly! (ahaha I wouldn't blame you for being mad! Dean and reader both are super frustrating in this. 🤣🤣) Yeah, you're probably right about that. At the end of the day, we can't please everybody, nor should we try to. 🤷🏽‍♀️

But you're welcome! I really did enjoy it and I'll bet the epilogue is going to be amazing! 💗

Aww thank you, my lovely! You're always so supportive and I appreciate you so much. 💕💕

IF I STAY - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

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

AN: Deep breaths Are you ready for a rollercoaster of emotions? 😘❤️

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “It’s Now or Never” by Elvis

Word Count: 13.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, pregnancy feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, time jumps and flashbacks, sexual tension, mutual pining, spice~, and an ending…

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Now or Never

At the doctor’s office, Dean goes in with you for the first trimester ultrasound. There you learn that you’re going to have a boy. Tears well up in your eyes and slip down your cheeks.

Dean wears a look of amazement as he sits on the edge of your bed. He takes up your hand and squeezes gently. He tries to be a strong support, even though he also tries to hide the fear that begins to churn in his gut.

For one of the first times in his life since Sam was born, he feels the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. In a good way. In a fucking scary way.

He looks at you and sees the wonder written across your face while you watch the tiny shape of your baby on the screen. His heartbeat thwaps fast and loud in the speakers.

Dean realizes something else then; the decision you're making is changing the course of your whole damn life…and it’s his fault.

With his weekly hookup rate, in the very back shelves of his mind he knew something like this could happen, even though he thought he'd been careful. (Apparently, condoms are fragile little shits.) But here, in this white wall-to-wall room that smells like hospital antiseptic, that thwap thwap thwap of a heartbeat reverberating in his ears, the reality of this is crashing hard on his shoulders and rattling down to the base of his spine.

Despite his earlier happiness, those thoughts stay with him when you two eventually get back into his car. You have the pictures of the sonogram in your hands. You smile down at them before you put them back in your purse for safekeeping.

However, you notice Dean’s sudden melancholy as he stares out at the road. He’s started the car, but he hasn’t moved to pull out of the parking lot yet.

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you, incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours and achingly familiar. But ultimately, it’s chaste. He pulls away and settles back in his seat.

When you blink your eyes back open, your expression is slack in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he says, seeming sheepish, and guilty. “I meant to say thank you. Just didn’t know any other way to say it.”

After a moment, you smile at him. It’s warm and almost shy.

Dean clears his throat, trying to ignore the way his face is heating up. He doesn’t say anything more. He just takes the wheel and shifts gears, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

You don’t know what possesses you to bake cookies. Dozens and dozens of them, all the chocolate chip cookie recipes you can find. You’re in search of the perfect one. This will be the recipe your son will grow up on, and every time he eats them, he’ll remember how much you loved him.

And then, he’ll be ruined for any other chocolate chip cookies that try to grab his taste buds. He’ll say, Blech. Chips Ahoy? These aren’t as good as Mom makes!

…Or something like that.

Yes, these cookies have to be perfect. You’ll even write the ingredients down on a notecard and hide it away, and it’ll become your family secret recipe.

Once you feel like your cookie game is strong enough, you decide to test these babies out. You bring two dozen painstakingly baked confections to Firehouse 83, where Dean works. The man is a bottomless pit, to be sure, but you also want other people’s unbiased opinions. For science.

You park your car on the side of the road, making sure you’re not blocking the driveway where two huge fire trucks are parked. You head inside the firehouse with your big container under your arm and your purse on the other. Now at seven months into your pregnancy, you’ve gotten to the embarrassing “waddle” stage.

You’re still determined to be active though! You plan to keep working until you have the baby. Your parents live a few hours away, but you’re grateful that they want to help out as much as possible.

Even though they weren’t happy to hear about how you got pregnant, by now they've met Dean and begrudgingly admitted to liking him. He's really stepped up to the responsibility of a future father, insisting on baby-proofing your apartment, helping you shop for the essentials, and going with you to as many doctor’s appointments as he can. He’s even agreed to giving you child support payments, even though you hadn’t wanted to ask for it.

You look for him now as you enter the firehouse, trying to push the heavy glass door open with one hand.

“Here, I got you,” says a familiar baritone voice.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the man who helps you inside.

“Benny! It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, been…a while,” he chuckles, glancing down at the swell of your belly, but he squeezes your shoulder and leans in to hug you gently.

“Dean filled you in?” you ask. You hope so. Having to explain the story to one of his own friends would be embarrassing, especially since this is the man you walked in Sam’s wedding with. It reminds you of that day, and the way you told Dean that news in a glorified closet, with shaking hands and the wrong kind of butterflies.

Thankfully, Benny nods. “That he did…but come on, I’ll show you around. And I see you’ve brought somethin’ special for us?”

He gestures at the container you're holding and offers to take it off your hands. You give it to him, grateful for the help.

“Yeah, and I want you guys to give me your honest opinion.”

Benny tosses you a wink and a smile. “That I can do.”

Your cheeks begin to warm in a blush, but the way he helps you to a comfy couch in the common room earns your smile. There are still good men left in this world, and you’re glad to know that Dean works so well with one.

“You want some coffee, or water? Think we might have some lemonade,” Benny says.

“Water would be great, thank you,” you reply, as you rub your belly. The little man has decided to kick at your liver today. “I stopped drinking coffee for the baby. ”

It's your biggest challenge, to be honest. Try wrangling a group of fifteen to twenty six-year-olds while running on green tea, the fumes of sleep deprivation, reduced bladder control, and as much vim as you can muster.

“Ah, right,” Benny nods. “My sister has two kids. She cut out coffee, pain meds, some dairy stuff. But she claimed cheesecake was all right, ‘cause it’s got cake in the name.”

You giggle. “I see no flaw in her logic.”

Down the hall of the firehouse, Dean is just coming back in from going through a set of drills. He’s still the Candidate—the freshest blood in the house—so they’ve been putting him through his paces for the past several months. He’s eager to learn and to prove himself.

His ears perk up in confusion though. Did he just hear your voice?

Why does it smell like a bakery in here?

When he rounds the corner, he sees you in the common room, smiling and giggling like a teenager at something Benny said to you while he eats a soft baked cookie right out of a Tupperware container. You must’ve brought it for the firehouse.

This cozy little scene kind of annoys Dean somehow, though he doesn’t know why. He does know that it shouldn’t.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Dean says, forcing himself to smile. It becomes easier when you look his way, your eyes brightening at his arrival.

“There you are! Come ‘ere and try these,” you say, pointing at the box Benny holds. “Tell me if our son’s going to have the best PTA mom ever.”

Dean can’t help but grin after trying a big bite of one of your cookies.

“Oh, mah Gah,” he says, holding a hand under his mouth so nothing comes crumbling out.

“Good?” you ask.

“Good friggin’ cookie,” he confirms, after he swallows. “You’re gonna have the other parents frothing at the mouth. Who’s gonna be able to compete with this?”

Benny nods in agreement. When Dean squeezes your shoulder, your sweet, happy smile makes him smile too.

She’s going to be a good mom, he thinks. He can only hope against hope that he can be the man his son needs.

Two months later, the time has finally come. Your water breaks when you’re in the middle of teaching your second graders how to spell exaggerate—and no, Joey, it’s not e-g-g-zagerate.

However, the embarrassment of him pointing out the fluid beginning to stain your slacks is swiftly cut off by your shock. Your first call is to the principal, to have her send someone to cover your class. Your next call is to Dean, telling him to meet you at the hospital.

“Why the hell did he have to bring her,” you mutter to yourself, wiping sweat from your brow. Here you are, gritting your teeth through contraction after contraction in this damn hospital bed, and Dean is outside the room talking to Lisa.

You know you have no real reason to be upset. She’s been trying her best to be your friend in recent months. Hell, she helped Eileen and your mom plan your baby shower. She even brought you flowers when she got to the hospital, but you notice how less than five minutes after she got here, she and Dean became embroiled in yet another argument. It seems to you that all they do is argue, break up for a week or two, and then get back together again.

The sex must be explosive, like the fireworks at goddamn Disney World.

But Dean eventually does come back into the room alone. His support grounds you over the next few hours. He lets you basically break his hand, all while he gives you encouragement (and stands by your shoulder, so he doesn’t see anything you’d rather him not see).

And then, your son is born. Every muscle, every cell in your body is exhausted, but the pain meds have kicked in, and you’re in that blissed out state between abject reality and being entirely entranced by the bundle in your arms. His perfect face is just there, sleeping for the moment after the nurses taught you how to breastfeed.

Dean returns to sit in the chair beside you. He gives you some water and a piece of a protein bar. You’re not that hungry, but he pointed out that you haven’t eaten since before your water broke.

“Sam and Eileen are on their way up,” he says.

You nod in reply. You’re too into your son right now to think of anything else.

Dean shakes his head in wonder as he reaches out with a tentative hand, brushing his fingers over the baby’s downy head. He was born with a little tuft of brown hair.

“Okay, down to business,” Dean says, shooting you a playful look. “I vote for Zeppelin.”

You groan. “Dean, no. Veto. I’m not naming my son after a rock band.”

“Aw, come on. It’s a badass name!”

“What about Aiden?” you suggest.

“Veto,” he snorts. You two agreed to getting five “vetos” each, but this discussion has been more like a battle of wills over the last several months.

“Okay, what about Daniel? That’s strong, classic,” you pose.

Dean considers it with a tilt of his head. “All right, that one’s a maybe.”

Again, he strokes the baby’s soft cheek. You look over at Dean with a small smile.

“You’re going to be a good dad, you know,” you tell him. It earns his gaze. Although he’s trying to stay strong, you read the hidden insecurity there, the worry and fear. You rest a hand on his arm. “You are, Dean. You’re a good man, and you’ve really stepped up these past few months. This obviously isn’t how either of us thought our lives would go, but if this had to happen with someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Dean’s expression softens. He hesitates, but he lays a hand over yours and squeezes gently.

“Thanks,” he says.

Your eyes meet, and it’s a moment charged with something you can’t even name. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this feeling with him. It both fills your heart with warmth, and makes you ache.

Then the door opens. It’s Lisa, Sam, and Eileen. Dean’s hand slips away from yours as they all pour in to congratulate you and Dean, and of course, meet the baby. There’s a lot of soft cooing and playful shushing.

In that small chaos, your parents call to tell you that they’re finally almost here. It really sucked not having your mom with you, but your parents live far enough away that they were going to take a train and stay with you for at least a week. Their train unfortunately got delayed due to mechanical failure.

It's okay though. Getting through the past several hours has made you realize that you’re stronger and more capable than you think, and even though part of you is still scared to death, you don’t need a husband to be a good mom. You’re going to give this your all, no matter who’s beside you…

And that's no more apparent than when Dean soon has to step out again, leading Lisa out of the room. He saw how her “helpful” suggestion to have a get-together at their apartment to celebrate the baby’s birth was setting you on edge. Really, you just want to sleep for the next 24-hours and not have any more pictures of you taken.

It gets loud enough outside your hospital room that Sam and Eileen feel they have to intervene. Lisa is Eileen’s best friend, and she’s the best equipped to try and deescalate the argument from that end, while Sam deals with Dean. It’s messy, it’s irritating, and it means that even today, you can’t just have a little bit of peace.

You sigh and cradle your still nameless baby close to your chest. He’s all that matters. Already, your heart is so damn full just taking him in.

“What’s your name, my little love?” you whisper. “What am I going to write on your certificate, besides Winchester?”

“How about Benjamin,” comes a Louisiana drawl.

You perk up and smile in surprise. “Benny, hey.”

He greets you with a slightly hesitant kiss on the cheek. He’s brought the baby an adorable teddy bear, and you a beautiful bouquet of white and blue roses, along with a box of chocolates.

“It’s the assorted kind, but they’ve got plenty of the caramel ones you like,” he says, then gazes down at the baby. “Aw, he’s a little charmer. Already got more of you than Dean, that’s for sure.”

You laugh lightly at his teasing. “I don’t know about that.” You hope your son inherits Dean’s strong jaw, and his green eyes.

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Also…sorry if I’m crossing some kind of boundary here. Looks like it’s a bit of a circus outside.”

You shake your head and smile through burgeoning tears. You set the chocolates on the end table where he’s placed the flowers and the teddy bear.

“No, it’s very sweet. Thank you,” you say. You glance out the window of your room to the hallway, where the arguing between Dean, Lisa, Sam, and Eileen seems to finally be calming down. You’re so damn tired, you don’t give a crap about whatever they’re hashing out now.

You look down at your son, and despite your strong thoughts earlier, insecurity begins to creep back into your mind like inky claws.

“How are you holding up?” Benny asks. His face is kind and concerned when he notes the change in you.

You meet him with a wobbly smile. “Honestly? I’m afraid. I know I have a lot of people who want to support me, and I’m grateful, but…I just have this terrible feeling that we’re going to end up alone, him and me.”

You look down at your son, and you have to wipe away a tear from your eye before it falls on his face.

A large, warm hand rests over yours. Your gaze raises slowly, and Benny smiles at you. He’s serious though.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he says. “You’re not gonna be alone.”

FIVE YEARS LATER...

For all that changes, there are some things that stay the same.

Dean and Lisa are still the world’s most “off again, on again” couple you’ve ever met. Sam and Eileen are still going strong as the hardworking, driven career couple. Your son is growing more and more every day and just started kindergarten this year.

(You ultimately caved on Dean’s idea to name him Robert, as in Robert Plant, lead singer of Led Zeppelin.)

Oh, yeah, and the “you and Benny” thing? That’s been going well for two years now.

What can you say? The man is persistent, but respectfully so. He’s considerate, reliable, and always calls you when work at the firehouse has him running late.

You haven’t yet invited him to move in with you. That part you’re still hesitant on, mostly because of your son, but Benny helps you drop off Robbie at school and makes breakfast for you all whenever he stays over your apartment. Benny takes an interest in your son’s life and keeps up with all his energy, taking him to the park to run himself ragged before dinner, and helping you tuck him in at night.

Benny is a bit closed off though, the strong stoic type. He’s hard for you to get a read on, and sometimes you wonder if he’s just indulging you when you ramble on about your day or make silly jokes. Even now, sometimes you withhold the first thought that comes to your mind, hoping he doesn’t think you immature or…too much.

But Benny shows his caring in all those little things he does for you. They add up into the big things, and he makes you feel supported. He makes you feel safe.

He even helps you plan your son’s fifth birthday. Robbie wanted to go all out on a dinosaur theme; he’s been hooked on Jurassic Park ever since Benny “accidentally” let him watch it with him on one of your rare nights out with your friends.

So you set up a little party at the park by your apartment. You managed to reserve the biggest gazebo, where there are three picnic tables covered with dinosaur plates, and tablecloths, streamers in different shades of green. You even bought a big dinosaur cake—also in a radioactive green color that you hadn’t been sure about, but your son talked you into. Robbie thinks it’s awesome.

He’s running around on the playground with a few of his friends from school. Their parents (along with Sam, Eileen, and Lisa) are talking amongst themselves at one of the picnic tables while you try to figure out how to get the Bluetooth speaker to connect with your phone.

“Haha! Got it. If you're so smart, Alexa, why don't you connect on the first try?” You fist-pump the air triumphantly, just as Benny comes to your side. He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek, making you smile.

“How’s it going out there?” you ask, nodding at the kids. Plus Dean, who’s gamely been the one to keep them entertained with different games. Right now, it’s a thrilling game of Cowboys and Outlaws, where Robbie and his friends are the cowboys, and Dean is the outlaw. He’s been hiding under the slide, behind trees and other playground fixtures, while the kids have little squirt guns to pelt him with water every time they find him.

It's pretty damn cute, and you’ve been taking pictures. You smile at the sight of Dean leaping out at Robbie and the kids, catching them off guard.

“You’ll never take me alive, Sheriff!” Dean declares.

“Oh, it’s goin’,” Benny remarks with an amused shake of his head. “Still hard to believe that guy’s about to make it to Lieutenant.”

“Hahaaa, gotcha!!” Dean cackles. He’s grabbed up Robbie and yanked him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Robbie screeches with laughter while his dad runs around the playground, being chased by a bunch of five-year-olds with squirt guns.

Your smile threatens to make your cheeks hurt. You know your life is…unconventional, to say the least, but Dean is a good father to your son. He’s also been working hard at his job. He just took the Lieutenant’s test, and even though Benny already occupies that position at Firehouse 83, a spot at another firehouse might open up for Dean to transfer.

“Part of me doesn’t want to,” Dean admitted to you last week, while he was working on fixing your stubborn, leaky sink. “All the guys there, they’re like family, you know?” “I understand,” you nodded. “You have to do what feels best for you, whether that’s staying where you feel comfortable, or moving up in your career somewhere else. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.” He took in your advice with a slow nod. “Yeah, thanks. Guess I have to time to think about it. Lisa had other ideas.” “Of course,” you said with a smile, but it soon dropped. “Why, what did she say?” “Do what I can to move up,” he sighed. “She’s got a point. That title comes with a pay bump, one I could really use right now.” “I get that. Totally valid,” you said. “But I just think it’s important for you to be happy with it too. Especially with what you do, helping people, saving people…I’d imagine being in the right mindset for all that is important, right? Who you work with can be just as important as the money stuff.” Dean considered you with a smile. “Yeah, exactly.”

As you think about it now, you have to admit that he’s grown up a lot.

Dean has to lean against a tree to catch his breath. Am I already getting too old for this crap?

Feels kind of young to have a stitch in his side after a few rounds with these kids, but even he has his limits. Lisa comes to bring him a bottle of ice-cold water, which he appreciates. He’s tempted to dump it over his head like he does after successfully neutralizing a fire. It gets literally hot as hell under that helmet and mask and all his gear underneath.

“Need an iron lung?” Lisa teases.

“Toss in a new pair of knees, thanks,” he wheezes. He downs half the water bottle in one go, but he smiles at seeing his son keep running around with his friends. He’s just got that manic kid energy that goes on for days. But Robbie’s also smart; like Dean, he likes taking things apart and putting them back together in new and ingenious ways.

Dean hopes his son likes the new model car set that’s waiting for him on the picnic table full of presents. In fact, he’s still surprised that you didn’t go with the race car theme he suggested for the party, but apparently, Robbie’s more into dinosaurs now. Dean wishes he knew that before he bought the model car set.

He looks over and catches sight of you and Benny wrapped up in each other. He has his arm around your waist while you fiddle with something, but the way you lean over and whisper near his ear elicits a smile on Benny’s face.

Dean’s good mood diminishes.

“Well, don’t they seem cozy,” he mutters.

Lisa arches a manicured brow. “Yeah, pretty sure he’s getting ready to propose.”

That earns Dean’s attention, his head swiveling back to her in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “Who told you that?”

“His sister,” she replies. “Meg’s in my intermediate class, remember?”

Dean nods, sipping at his water, even though he’s a bit absent in the eyes. Lisa watches him shrewdly.

“Why do you seem upset about it?” she asks. “Benny’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dean says. He doesn’t need that reminder, or the guilty twinge. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.

“And she seems happy,” Lisa points out. “Don’t you want the mother of your kid to be with a good man who treats her right?”

He nods, trying to hide his growing annoyance. “‘Course I do. I just…I don’t know. I still don’t see them together, I guess.”

“Well, they’ve been together for like, two years.”

Again, Dean nods his acknowledgement. It’s hard for him to believe that so much time has passed already. He honestly didn’t think you and Benny would be together this long. He’d always felt a little uncomfortable with one of his best friends dating you, but you’d seemed happy about it, so he didn’t discourage it. But he’d never been very supportive, either. At least, not about your relationship.

Lisa sighs and grabs his arm, pulling him aside before he can rejoin the party.

“Listen, we need to talk about something,” she says.

Dean restrains a tired groan. “Can this wait ‘til later?”

“I think we should do this now,” she says. A hallmark Lisa-ism. She’s opinionated and strong-willed, something Dean’s always respected about her. Sometimes though, the timing is damn irritating. He doesn’t want to get into another argument with his girlfriend in public, especially not at his son’s birthday party.

“Speaking of commitment,” she says with a sigh. “I think it’s fair to say that we’ve been on a five-year rollercoaster, you and I. You know why that is?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” Dean says, crossing his arms.

“It’s because you’re spread too thin,” she says. “Between the firehouse, construction jobs on the side…not to mention other things.”

“What? What’re you talking about?”

Lisa’s lips purse, before she pointedly gestures over at you with her eyes. “Well, for example. You’re still going to her place after your next shift to fix her fridge, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, should be pretty simple. I’ve just gotta swing by the hardware store and grab this specialty tool I ordered—”

“Dean,” Lisa deadpans. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

She heaves a deep breath, running her fingers through her long brown hair.

“I get that navigating this situation hasn’t been easy for you,” she says. “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me either, but look.”

Lisa takes his hands in hers, uncrossing his arms. “I want to get married someday. I want kids too. And I want that kind of life with you…I’m just not sure you want it with me.”

Dean expels a heavy sigh. “Lis—”

“Don’t answer me right now,” she says, but she levels him with a serious look. “You need to decide though, Dean. Five years is long enough. You should know by now if you want to be with me.”

After letting go of his hands, she softens the edges of her words with a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then she turns to join the group now gathered around the picnic table where the food is, all the kids cheering for pizza and cake.

After the party, Sam, Eileen, Lisa, and Benny pack up their cars and yours with the leftover food, party supplies, and presents. Dean helps you clean up the trash, all while keeping an eye on Robbie getting out the last of his sugar-high on the playground swing.

You shake your head tiredly, if with a fond smile. “That kid’s gonna be up all night hype on that radioactive cake.”

Dean chuckles. “You want me to take him tonight?”

“It’s okay. I think he’s going to want to play with his toys,” you reply.

“Well, he could just as easily do that at my place,” he reasons.

You consider it, but you shake your head. “Yeah, but we got him the bike. He’s probably gonna want to try it out for a few minutes before we get him cleaned up.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean you and Benny,” Dean says, his tone becoming surly. “And about that. Don’t you think a bike is something you should run by me? That’s typically a ‘dad’ kind of gift.”

You pause what you’re doing at the sound of his tone. Your brows knit together.

“Sorry, but I feel like a bike isn’t exclusively a dad thing,” you say.

“My dad got me my first bike,” Dean replies. “Spent a whole three days teaching me how to ride.”

You take a minute to think about it. You understand where Dean’s coming from, so you nod.

“Okay, I get it. You want to be there to help teach Robbie? I’m sure he’d love that.”

Dean tosses a wadded-up ball of frosting-covered napkins and stops, letting his hands fall to his sides in frustration. He draws closer and helps you untie the balloons from the picnic table.

“Yeah, I do, but that’s not the point,” he says. “Why can’t I take him home tonight?”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Well, like I said. The bike—”

“That I should’ve gotten for him,” he snaps. “Which, let me guess, Benny picked out. Right?”

You frown at him in earnest now. “Dean, why are you getting so upset about it? It’s just a bike.”

“Well you know what, it’s not! And it’s not just the damn bike either.” He swipes a hand over his face in annoyance, a telltale sign you’ve come to read well on the man. “Look, I’m missing too much shit, all right? Like, like the dinosaur thing! And the fact that I only get him on the weekends.”

You turn toward him, trying to put a cap on your own annoyance. This isn’t the first time you two have had a conversation like this.

“We’ve gone over this before, Dean. Your schedule at the firehouse is just too unpredictable,” you say. “Robbie needs as much stability as possible between us. But…okay, if you want to take him tonight, that’s fine. We can bring the bike over to your place and show it to him there.”

You’re trying to be as reasonable as possible, and Dean knows that. Still, anger prickles just under his skin, and he can’t help but push his luck.

“You still should’ve asked be before you got the bike in the first place,” he argues.

Your brows raise high. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, it’s not like we bought him a Honda Civic. Honestly, Dean, why are you picking a fight with me right now?” you ask. “Did you and Lisa get into it again or something?”

Dean looks away and crosses his arms, giving you all the confirmation you need.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you nod. “I saw you two over there on the playground, looked pretty heated. But do me a favor. Don’t come at me with that energy, because I’m too damn tired of it!”

When you walk away from him, Dean can’t help but stare after you. He knows he fucked that up, just as he knows that you don’t deserve him snapping at you. He’s just too irritated to admit it.

For the entire week that follows, Dean finds himself distracted. He sticks to his word and helps Benny teach his son how to ride a bike in between their shifts at the firehouse, but Dean comes home each night feeling even more frustrated and drained than before. It’s too much, knowing Benny’s slowly but surely carving out a father-figure role in Robbie’s life.

These thoughts follow Dean to work, even while he climbs up the firetruck ladder in the rain. It’s parallel to a busted utility pole that still sparks with electricity, even in this torrential downpour. His task is to get up to the top and grab a large branch that’s tangled in the lines.

Rung after rung, he climbs. His safety mask protects his eyes from the rain, but he wishes they had some mini windshield wipers to keep his vision clear of the droplets pelting him in the face.

He also can’t help thinking of you. If Lisa’s right, then Benny’s about to become a more permanent fixture in Robbie’s life, and yours.

Okay fine. It’s not like Dean expected you to be single forever, but did you really have to get with one of his best friends? Does it really have to be Benny, who seems so natural with Robbie, and more patient than Dean, and more of a support to you and Robbie than Dean can ever be?

And then there’s Lisa’s little ultimatum. He understands why she’s frustrated with him. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s stuck around this long. He knows she’s not going to wait too much longer for him to get his act together. For him to decide, as she put it.

It’s not that he’s not sure about her, it’s just that…

Just that what? he wonders.

He manages to grab the wily tree branch and maneuver it out of the power lines.

He just doesn’t realize that his glove doesn’t have quite enough friction on the metal side panel of the ladder. Not only does his hand slip, but he’s forced to let go of the branch while he loses his balance. The branch falls to the sidewalk, far, far down below.

“Dean!” Benny shouts in alarm.

Luckily, the truck itself breaks Dean's fall.

Holding Robbie’s hand tightly in yours is the only thing keeping you steady as you lead him through the hospital. After the receptionist had checked you both in and gave you the room number, you hastened down the hall and up to the right floor. 2005.

Robbie breaks into tears when he finally gets to see his dad, laid up though he is in his hospital bed. Your throat tightens at the sight of Dean hooked up to all those monitors. He has his arm wrapped up and fitted into a sling. He has a thick piece of gauze taped to the side of his face, covering a wide, angry abrasion, but he seems to be resting easy on his back. The bed is at an incline, with most of the overhead lights turned off.

Robbie rushes to the bed before you can stop him. He hesitantly touches Dean’s non-injured right hand. “Daddy?”

“Robbie, wait,” you say, keeping your voice quiet. You quickly go over to the bedside and grab ahold of Robbie’s shoulders, but Dean takes a deep breath. His eyelids crack open.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, attempting a smile. His voice is rough and weak, but at least he’s awake.

Robbie’s lower lip wobbles as tears fill his eyes again.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says, a little stronger. When he reaches out to his son, the kid hops up onto the bed and buries his face into his father’s chest. Dean holds him as securely as he can, soothing his hand over the boy’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s okay, little man. ‘M okay,” he promises. Robbie nods, but he still continues to cry.

You can’t help but do the same. Tears slip down your cheeks without your consent. Dean beckons you over too, gesturing with his chin and a slight smile. You’re more tentative in the way you sit down at the edge of his bed. You run your fingers through Robbie’s light brown hair to help reassure him. Then, you meet Dean’s gaze and lay a hand on his good shoulder. You don’t know whether you’re steadying him, or yourself.

“How do you feel?” you ask. “The hospital called me. Benny told me what happened.”

The thought reminds you to text your boyfriend. You hadn’t had a chance to tell him you made it here yet. He must be downstairs grabbing a bite to eat, because he’s the one who rode with Dean in the ambulance and has been with him for a while.

“The hospital called you?” Dean notes in slight confusion.

“Eileen told me that Sam is in court right now, so I must’ve been next on the list,” you say. He also must have taken Lisa off his emergency list the last time they broke up for almost a month. He probably forgot to update it again.

You reach out a hand to almost touch the bandage by his temple. Instead, you hesitantly hold the side of his face to see the area better. Dean closes his eyes for a moment. You can see he’s in pain. Your hand lingers on his cheek, but you know, deep down, that it shouldn’t.

Dean doesn’t stop you though. He lets out a deep breath, savoring how nice the gentle touch feels when the rest of his body feels battered to hell.

“Fell off the ladder. Was a stupid rookie move,” he explains, but when he sees that look on your face, he tries to inject a little more joking into a smile. “S’ not so bad.”

“You could’ve broken your head as well as your arm,” you say, more sharply than you mean to.

Robbie whimpers and clings tighter to Dean. You cover your mouth, as if you can trap the words back inside. You don’t want to upset your son more than he already is, so you fall silent. Another tear works its way down your cheek, but you brush it away. Dean shakes his head.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he reassures you too. He manages to smile as he pats Robbie’s back. “Right, buddy?”

The boy’s head perks up. His eyes are still shiny, but he smiles too. He’s not one to speak when he’s upset though, so he just curls up against Dean’s chest and hangs onto him. Dean rests his good arm snugly around him.

You smile and stroke Robbie’s back. Though your hand lowers, resting on Dean’s hand. You take in a deep breath to calm yourself down. Dean’s fingers curl around yours, prompting you to glance up into his eyes. The way he’s watching you is soft, grateful.

Until the door creaks open. Benny steps in with a subtle clearing of his throat. You jolt internally, and you slip your hand away from Dean’s. You offer your boyfriend a wan smile.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey, baby.” He comes over and greets you with a kiss to the side of your head. He smiles at your son gently. “The gang’s all here.”

“Oh! Let me call Sam, and Lisa too. They still don’t know what’s going on,” you say. You get up from the bed to grab your phone out of your purse. Dean nods in agreement and thanks you, while Robbie plays with his dad's long fingers.

“How you holdin’ up, brother?” Benny asks, after you step out of the room. He settles into the chair near the foot of the bed.

“Ah, you know me. I’m like a cat. Always stick the landing,” Dean says, smiling lazily. The morphine is starting to kick in again.

Benny smirks. “Maybe you do got nine lives, the amount of close calls you like gettin’ yourself into.”

Dean’s good humor fades. He considers his son in his arms, and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, no more,” he says. He got a taste of what it would be like to leave his boy behind, and he’s not fucking doing it. He’s not leaving you to raise Robbie by yourself. The mere idea tears a new hole in his heart.

His eyes sting just enough that he has to blink a bit harder, swallowing past a thick well of emotion in his throat. He presses another kiss to the top of Robbie’s head. Then, Dean meets Benny’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it.

Benny nods.

“You got it, brother.”

When Lisa steps off the hospital elevator on the second floor, you happen to be coming out of the bathroom to fix your racoon eyes. You’ve been crying way too much. You attempt to greet Lisa with something reassuring, but she cuts you off.

“What happened, and why didn’t the hospital call me directly?” she asks.

Her tone is cutting, and it takes you aback.

“Well, Sam and I were listed as his emergency contacts—”

“Why?” she snaps. “You’re not his wife or his girlfriend. I should’ve been listed.”

Jesus Christ. At this point, you can’t help it. You’re too tired and emotionally drained to lasso in your temper with this woman.

“Maybe if you and Dean stayed together longer than five minutes at a time, he’d put you back on the short list,” you sling back. “But the truth is, you’ve never just…been there for Dean. Not without demanding something from him.”

Lisa scoffs incredulously. “Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you. You’re the reason he can’t commit to anything. You think your little world is the only one that matters, and you call Dean for any little thing! What, don’t you have a boyfriend to help fix your goddamn sink?”

You open your mouth to retort, but you pause as her words seep into your mind. She might actually have a small point about that one. You realize then just how often you’ve been asking Dean for his help, not just with your apartment, but with your car, and other logistical things that usually have to with Robbie. Dean’s just such a good handyman, and you thought he genuinely liked being able to help…even though Benny did mention once or twice that he’d be just as happy to help you.

“Lisa, this is a lot more than a leaky sink. I just wanted to get here with Robbie and make sure Dean was okay,” you try to explain.

“Good. I’m glad his son was the first person Dean got to see when he woke up,” Lisa says. “But I should’ve been the second.”

She brushes past you before you can even think of what to say. You’re in a state of shock, feeling guilty, incensed, and on the verge of tears all at once.

A familiar voice calls your name, and you turn to Benny just as those tears begin to fall. He gathers you up into his arms and holds you there in the middle of the hallway.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that, no matter how high tensions are today. I’ll talk to Dean,” Benny says. You shake your head and bury your face in his chest, clenching your fingers in his red flannel shirt.

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, despite the sob that shudders through you. You’ve lost the will to fight.

Benny shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It ain’t okay, baby.”

“Please, don’t bother Dean with this. Especially not right now,” you say. You take a moment to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself. “I’m gonna go get Robbie so Dean can rest.”

You can’t shake the feeling that Lisa is right. You do rely on Dean too much. You just don’t want to think about why that is.

Dean makes a full recovery after a few months. He never does hear about what happened in that hallway, but he knows that things need to change.

He decides to dig out his mom’s engagement ring from a locked box of his parents’ keepsakes, though he’s still waiting on the right time for it. He and Lisa start looking at houses though, for real this time. She hires a realtor and everything.

He’s making a firm decision, and he thinks it’s the right one. He wants to be there for his son, but he doesn’t want to keep “spreading himself too thin.” He has to figure out how to set some roots, and some boundaries with you while he’s at it. He’ll just have to come to terms with the idea that he won’t get to be there for everything.

He has to be okay with the fact that you’ll probably marry Benny. You’ll keep making him cookies and cakes, giving him your smile and your time and your body. And Robbie will probably think of Benny as more of a father than his own Weekend Dad.

Meanwhile, you’ve spent the past few months keeping yourself in check as well. You’ve stopped calling Dean for help whenever something breaks down in your old-ass apartment. You try to keep your conversations less about life and troubles and whatever funny thing your students did that day in class, and more focused on Robbie–strictly about his schedule and his needs.

It’s kind of painful, if you’re honest with yourself. Sam will always be one of your closest friends from college, but in the past five years, Dean has truly become your best friend. Because you’ve told him things. The things that come from sharing a child with someone, like Sunday dinners with your parents, flipping through old yearbooks and childhood pictures—and the details of day-to-day schedules and little stupid things that happen in moments between moments.

Dean also knows the deep cuts. Like being pregnant and scared and breaking down crying on the side of the road. Like sharing the deepest well of your insecurities with someone who knows your body intimately, even if just for one amazing night...a night you’ve never quite been able to put out of your mind.

However, you know that things can’t stay the same. From now on, he just needs to be your son’s father. Nothing more, nothing less.

So today, on a crisp April 24th, you’re getting ready for a highly anticipated evening with your boyfriend. Robbie is sleeping over your parents’ house, and Benny has been planning something special for your third-year anniversary.

You slip into your new dress, a deep emerald green, with a pair of black heels you’ve rarely worn since before you got pregnant. Come to think of it, you were wearing these the night of Sam and Eileen’s bachelor-bachelorette party. The night you…well, the night Robbie was conceived.

You shake your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You even consider changing.

You’re being silly, you shake your head. They’re just shoes.

And yet. Thinking of that time so long ago, it reminds you of a recent Sunday dinner at your parents’ house.

Two Months Ago...

Your parents live modestly, but comfortably in rural Kansas. Their ranch-style home boasts a creek in the backyard, where your dad is teaching your son how to catch minnows. Your mom is inside working on an apple pie, knowing it’s both Dean’s and Robbie’s favorite.

You and Dean have kept close to the house under the shade, sitting on a bench made more comfortable by a pair of old polyester cushions with red, faded flowers.

“How much longer do you have to wear that?” you ask Dean. He glances down at his cast-covered left arm.

“Doc says it’s about ready to come off,” he says.

You nod, allowing yourself a certain smile. “How bad are you itching to grab my mom’s garden shears and cut it off right here?”

“Woman, don’t tempt me,” he says, his lips twitching at a grin. “I’ve been eying those overgrown scissors for the past half hour.”

You laugh and take another sip of your glass. Yours holds sweet tea, while Dean’s has some of your dad’s favorite whiskey. You both raise your heads when Robbie yells across the backyard.

“I caught a minnow!”

“Good job, buddy,” Dean grins. “See if you can catch a marlin!”

“A marlin?” Robbie questions.

“Yeah, like that orange guy in Finding Nemo,” Dean calls back.

Your dad gives Dean the same wry look you do, though yours is tinged with more amusement.

“Dean, that’s a clown fish,” you say. “He’s not gonna find that in the creek.”

“Aw, shit,” he tries to quiet his laugh. “Ah well, should keep him occupied for another twenty minutes.”

You bite your lip to stifle your laughter as well. Though something else occurs to you the longer you watch your son play and explore in the creek. Your dad has the patience of a saint as he puts yet another bait worm on the hook for the kid.

“He’s starting to ask questions, you know,” you tell Dean, in a quieter voice. “‘Why aren’t you and Daddy married? Why can’t we all live together?’”

Dean's brows raise. His good humor dims when he looks over at you.

“What do you tell him?” he asks.

You take in a deep breath, considering your words now as carefully as you did with your son.

“That we care about each other a lot, as friends,” you say, meeting Dean’s eyes. “And we love Robbie very much. Nothing’s going to change that, even if you and I aren’t together like a normal mom and dad.”

Saying it like that makes your heart twinge, for more than one reason. The way Dean’s mouth twitches into a rueful smile just makes it worse, but you try your best to ignore it.

“I never thought about having to explain it to him,” he says, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

It’s that anxious tell of his again. You notice every time he does it.

“I have,” you admit. “I just didn’t know for sure what I was going to say until it was coming out of my mouth.”

Dean smirks a little. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

You roll your eyes and sip your drink, crossing your arms as well. Dean considers you then, looking at you in a way that makes you raise a brow in question.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He sits back against the bench and rubs his hands down his jean-clad thighs. “For the record, I did try to ask you out once.”

“What?” you scoff incredulously. “No, you’ve been with Lisa since the beginning.”

“Before Lisa,” Dean says.

He isn’t joking. He isn’t teasing. He’s serious as he stares back at you with those green eyes of his. Your brows furrow as you wrack your brain. Did he drunkenly leave you a voicemail on one of those “off again” episodes between him and Lisa? No. You know you’d remember something like that.

“It was a few weeks after the bachelor party,” Dean says. “I called you up, remember?”

Your eyes widen. Finally, that jogs your memory.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

You have to laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Dean, you did not ask me out,” you say. “You wanted to hook up. There’s a distinct difference.”

Dean frowns at you. “No, I was. I invited you over—”

“For essentially some Netflix and chill,” you retort.

“Hey, I offered to make you dinner,” he argues. “I didn’t say anything about hooking up.”

You pause at that. His earnest denial makes you actually think back to what you remember about that conversation on the phone.

You cover your lips with your fingers as you begin to realize…

“That was you asking me out?” you ask incredulously.

Dean’s brows furrow and he throws his hands up. “What? Who doesn’t like a little movie night?”

“Dean,” you huff another laugh. “You could’ve made it sound more like a date.”

“Well, ‘scuse me. Sorry I couldn’t afford the Ritz at the time,” he grumbles.

You sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

The more you think about it, the more you just shake your head at yourself. Why did you have to overthink it, like you do everything?

“Wow,” you say, softer and more contrite. “I honestly never thought…”

“Yeah,” he says. He shifts his gaze out ahead.

You glance over at him, now more unsure of yourself. He wouldn’t have any regrets, you think. He has Lisa. As much as they go at it, they always inevitably get back together. And now you know they hired a realtor. They’re about to start making solid steps forward.

But Dean surprises you with another question.

“Do you think if…”

He doesn’t finish it, but you think you know what he’s asking. You hesitate, your fingers flexing around your glass that beads with condensation. You set the glass down beside you.

Just as you open your mouth to reply—

“All right, pie is cooling and dinner is served!” your mom calls out. Her head pokes out of the sliding glass door to the backyard. You offer a smile, trying to hide how you jolted in your seat.

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” you nod.

You turn back to Dean, who also hesitates. His eyes meet yours, but all too soon, he locks the moment away.

Bracing his hands on his knees, he rocks to his feet and goes out to get Robbie and help your dad bring in the fishing gear.

You grab Dean’s whiskey along with your tea on your way back inside the house. You consider the amber liquid disturbed in his glass, and you down the rest yourself. The burn down your throat is a good distraction. If he asks about it, you’ll say you got the glasses confused.

You know you’ll have to leave that conversation unfinished at the foot of the bench.

Now...

Benny comes by your apartment and helps you into the passenger side of his pickup truck, like the gentleman he is. He takes you to a nice restaurant in downtown, much nicer than the usual sports bar or kid-friendly restaurant. You're very much looking forward to eating at a restaurant that doesn't feature chicken fingers or "kiddie" corn dogs.

“This is gonna be really expensive,” you whisper to him, after he hands his keys over to the valet.

Benny squeezes your hand in his, leaning over to kiss your temple.

“Don’t you worry about that. We both deserve a night out.” His blue eyes gleam with amusement. However, his gaze gentles, becoming more sincere. “You work hard, carin’ for everybody around you. How about you let me take care of you for once.”

Your eyes begin to water, your throat constricting with emotion. You rub his arm gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

It’s always easy with Benny. Nice and simple and easy. Nice, supportive, and considerate.

Nice and safe.

That thought follows you while you and Benny walk into to the restaurant. He’s reserved great seats in the back corner, overlooking a beautiful courtyard. It’s decorated with hydrangeas and light wood dining tables, all framed with a rod iron archway as the sun begins to set just so. After holding your chair out for you before he sits himself, Benny orders a bottle of champagne to kick things off.

He turns to you with a somewhat nervous look in his eyes, like he's steeling himself. It’s uncharacteristic of Benny, who’s always so calm and charming and sure of himself. It makes a zing of anticipation run down your spine, and…a dash of fear. You don’t know why, and you don’t know how to beat the feeling down as you fidget in your seat.

He subtly clears his throat, then takes your hand. “Sweetheart, I know I’m not all that good at the words you’re supposed to say. But I can say that the past three years with you and Robbie, it’s come to mean the world to me.”

Your smile softens. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, encouraged by your reaction.

“So I think it’s time I made it clear where I stand, and how much I want to be the man in your life,” he says.

Your eyes begin to widen in shock, but not for the reason he thinks.

“Dean,” you gasp.

Benny’s expression slackens. “What?”

You point over his shoulder, and Benny turns to follow your line of vision. Dean and Lisa have just walked into the restaurant. They notice you pointing their way, and they both pause in surprise as well. Lisa is beautiful as usual in a slinky black dress, completely backless (something you feel you could never pull off, unless you had an invisible bra to keep the girls perked up).

Dean is…well, you’ve very rarely seen him in a suit, but charcoal gray works for him. The open collar and white buttoned-down works for him, as do the three top buttons he’s left undone, showing a tantalizing strip of tanned skin. He stares back at you like he forgot you live in the same time zone, let alone the same zip code.

“Uh, hey!” he casts out an awkward wave, before he makes his way over to you and Benny. Lisa is less than enthused.

“We shouldn’t interrupt their night,” you catch her whisper to him, but Dean doesn’t seem to hear her.

“What’s up, party people! Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh?” Dean says, a little too loudly when he thumps Benny on the back. Benny grunts, giving a bit of a forced chuckle.

“Dean,” he greets. “I think I told you about this particular gin joint. Good to see you can actually clean up once in a while.”

“Ah, you know what, this monkey suit ain’t too bad,” Dean says, pulling at his collar.

You smirk in amusement. “Yeah, I remember how much you complained about wearing a simple tie for Robbie’s Christmas pageant.”

He smirks down at you. “Hey, ties still might not be my thing, but nothing wrong with a sharp collar.”

He pops his for emphasis. You don’t know why it makes you laugh, but it does. Maybe it’s just his face and the silly, endearing expression he makes when he pouts his lips in a “blue steel.”

“So, is this just a night out, or you guys celebrating something special?” Dean asks, gesturing at the champagne bottle and your full glasses of bubbly.

Benny gives his friend a certain look. “Yeah, as a matter of fact. Today’s three years.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile back at him, though you’re a bit self-conscious at the way both he and Dean, and even Lisa have their attention on you.

“We should let you guys get back to it then,” Lisa says.

Honestly, it’s a relief. You and Benny nod, wishing them a goodnight.

For some reason, you notice how Dean’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But he goes with Lisa, laying a hand on the small of her back. You force yourself to tear your eyes away from them and refocus on Benny. You take up your champagne glass and raise it in offering.

“All right, where were we?” you ask, if with a nervous trill in your belly.

Benny smiles. He takes up his glass and clinks it with yours.

Lisa nearly sighs. She and Dean are back in line at the front of the restaurant, waiting to be seated. The second time she catches Dean glancing over at the table where you and Benny sit, she shakes her head and digs into her purse for the valet card. She’s done with this.

“I think maybe we should go to a different restaurant,” she says.

That finally earns Dean’s attention, mostly confused. “What, why?”

She just gives him a long look.

He realizes that whatever her reasons are, it’s easier to just give in than to fight her on it. He’s learning when to pick his battles. Or is he just giving up?

Also, if tonight’s “the night” he thinks it is for you and Benny, maybe he doesn’t want to stick around after all. Three years, huh?

“All right, fine. Let’s go,” he agrees.

Dean and Lisa wait for the valet to bring the Impala around. The minute he gets behind the wheel and turns the key into the ignition, she changes her mind.

“Look, let’s just go home,” she says. “I don’t really feel like eating out anymore.”

Dean’s brows raise. “What? Aw, come on. We’re already dressed and everything. You look great, Lis. Just tell me where you wanna eat.”

Lisa remains firm, with a small shake of her head. “Please, Dean, just take me home.”

After a moment of indecision, Dean sighs. He revs the ignition and does as she says.

It’s only a fifteen-minute drive back to their apartment, but in that stifling silence, it seems to drag on for a small eternity. He glances at her a couple of times. Lisa has her arms crossed as she stares out the window, watching the other restaurants and mom-and-pops shops and forest trees and old houses of Lebanon, Kansas go by.

Dean counts it a blessing when they’re finally home. He walks up the few short steps up to their ground-floor apartment and unlocks the door. He flicks on the lights inside, and she breezes past him to toss her purse onto the couch.

Dean takes off his blazer and begins to undo the buttons on his cuffs. He watches her all the while, knowing that a storm is brewing. She shucks off her heels and slowly paces the living room on bare feet, like her whirling thoughts are fueling every step.

“All right, I give. What’s going on?” Dean asks. “What’d I do this time?”

She pauses, with her back turned to him.

Shit, he thinks. He shouldn’t have said it like that.

He prepares for the inevitable blow up, but it never comes. Lisa just heaves a sigh. Slowly she turns, and Dean’s shocked and dismayed to see the tears welling up in her deep brown eyes. He makes quick strides toward her, but she raises a hand to keep him at bay.

“Dean, when you picture yourself happy, truly happy,” she says. “Is it with me? Can you imagine yourself marrying me? Buying the house, having kids, growing old together?”

If Dean was thrown for a loop before, he’s even more stunned by her question. “Lis…”

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads. Her tears begin to brim over, but she blinks, somehow keeping them at bay.

It’s a bit too long before Dean realizes that he can’t give her an answer. At least, not the one he knows she wants to hear.

When he thinks of that picture in his mind, of course he sees his son. But the only other person Dean can imagine there beside him is…

“I…” He wills his mouth to work, but nothing else comes out.

The only face he can conjure is yours. Your eyes are warm and welcoming, your smile as bright and contagious as your laugh.

The only voice he can hear is yours, gentle and strong at the same time.

The only one he can see is you.

He knows the shampoo you use and the perfume you like to wear, how the sweet and floral scents mix together and linger in your hair and on your skin.

Even now he remembers the contours of your body, and how it could fit so well against his. He knows that you used to try and hide your shape under loose, baggy shirts and cargo pants that did nothing for you. He knows how much courage it took you to wear that red dress to his brother’s party, because you told him once, at one of those Sunday dinners at your parents’ house.

Come to think of it, there’s not a whole lot that Dean doesn’t know about you, except maybe what you see when you look at him.

“You love her,” Lisa finishes for him. “I think you always have.”

Dean’s throat tightens. Somehow he swallows anyway, and he shakes his head.

“Lisa, I loved you.”

“Maybe you did, in your own way,” she says, laughing a little through her tears as she wipes them away. “But you already have a family, Dean. Go fight for it.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he can do.

He goes to her and kisses her cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

Lisa merely nods, wiping her face dry. She watches Dean Winchester walk out of her apartment, and out of her life for good this time.

Dean calls your cell, but it goes to voicemail. He drives all the way back to the restaurant and doesn’t find you or Benny there.

Dean realizes that what he’s doing, what he plans to do, is not fucking cool. He wouldn’t blame you or even Benny for being severely pissed when Dean shows up. He also knows that he can’t let another day pass where he keeps lying to you, and himself.

He eventually finds you at home. What’s weird is that Benny’s truck isn’t in the driveway—just your car. He knocks on your door, and he waits.

He unconsciously holds his breath while he waits in that terrible existence of limbo. However, his heart thrums back to life when he hears your footsteps drawing closer to the door. Anticipation, excitement, dread, it all roils together inside him like a bad cocktail as the door swings open.

And he’s once again rendered a bit breathless at the sight of you in that dress. The color alone appeals to him, let alone the way it accentuates your every curve, from full breasts to the swell of your hips, the softer slope of your thighs, and bare toes painted. You’re fucking delectable, every curve, and a temptation without you even meaning to be.

You’re just…you’re still so goddamn beautiful, like the night he first saw you. Even now, he can almost feel the give of your thighs under his hands, his fingers pressed to supple flesh.

But then he’s drawn to your face, and your wide eyes full of surprise. Your mascara is a bit smudged though. Your eyes are red too, like you’ve been crying. His brows furrow in concern.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” you ask.

“I need to talk to you, but uh…did something happen?” he asks. “You okay?”

You’re reluctant to tell him. Did Benny say something to upset you? Or was it something he did?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say.

Instinctively, Dean knows it’s a lie.

“This isn’t a good time though,” you say, after clearing your throat. “Can we do this tomorrow, maybe?”

Dean leans a hand on the doorframe.

“Please, it’s important,” he says. His eyes implore you harder than his words. Please.

That does it. A sigh passes through your lips, but you let him in. He knows Robbie is with your parents for the night, which actually makes this easier.

Once he steps inside the apartment, Dean does notice that your bedroom door is open. Half the drawers to your dresser are open too, and empty. Certain frames that used to be on your coffee table are no longer there, like the one of you, Benny, and Robbie on a camping trip.

“You want some coffee, or soda?” you ask.

Dean declines and grasps your arm before you can busy yourself into “hostess” mode. He leads you to the couch, where you both sit down together.

“What happened tonight?” he asks. “Where’s Benny?”

Your lower lip wobbles, the beginning of your telltale cry face. Dean knows his son gets it from you, and it always breaks his heart. He squeezes your arm gently, trying to ground you.

“Benny proposed to me tonight,” you confess, taking in a sharp breath. “He proposed, and I couldn’t give him an answer.”

You shake your head as the tears sting hot in your eyes.

“He got so upset, he just—he left!” You throw your hands up. “But honestly, I don’t blame him.”

Dean tries to comfort you as you try and fail to wipe at your face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, cupping your cheek to brush the tears away himself.

“Why couldn’t you answer him?” he asks.

You look up at Dean, and you finally notice the shine of hope in his eyes. Dean touches your cheek more tenderly.

“Does it mean I have a chance here?” he asks.

Despite what your eyes tell you, you still gape at him in shock. “What? But…what about Lisa?”

“It’s over. For good this time,” Dean shakes his head. “I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…”

And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

You begin to crumble all over again. You pull away from him and his touch, because you can’t believe it. You cover your face with your hands, sniffling as you try to make sense of his words, his touch, and the warm flutter threatening to brim happiness in your heart.

“God, Dean. You can't just..."

"I mean it," he insists.

You're still reluctant to take him seriously...no matter how much you want to. It's a conflicting realization that hurts, and makes you feel stupid for taking so long to figure it out, and makes you hate yourself for hoping his words are true.

"Come the morning, you’re going to change your mind,” you reason, without looking at him. “Like you’ve done with Lisa a thousand times.”

“No,” Dean says firmly. He shifts closer and prompts you to look at him, really look at him.

“Not about this, and you know it,” he says, catching and holding your gaze. “That’s why you couldn’t say yes to Benny. Because you know what we’ve got. It’s the real deal.”

You still look uncertain, even though you can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Dean has always had this way of looking into the very depths of you, like he can actually see every thought as it passes through your mind.

“I should’ve said yes,” you say. “I can rely on Benny. I know he would stay by my side, and…and I know he won’t hurt me.”

Not like I’ve just hurt him, you think. Guilt still pricks at your heart. The last thing you ever wanted to do was lead him on, and yet, that’s what you’d done, wasn’t it? You thought you had loved him. You’re sure that you did, but maybe it just wasn’t the kind of love that could reach down deep and grab you, set your blood on fire, and make you ache when the burn was gone.

That spark licks across your skin when Dean takes your hands.

“What if I want to be that guy for you,” he says.

You allow yourself to look at him. Really look at him.

You know Dean. When he gets an idea in his head, it inhabits every bone and shred of muscle in his body. There’s no mistaking his resolve, or the steady grip of his hands over yours.

“If you let me, I’ll stay. I won’t leave you,” he says. In his eyes, there’s a firm promise. “I can be the guy you rely on. The man you can trust. The man who’s gonna love you, come whatever. Because now I know what it means. I know how it feels.”

You bite your lower lip against the smile that wants to surface.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Dean smiles for you. “If you wanna know the truth, I’m pretty sure I’ve been loving you since the day I heard Robbie’s heartbeat for the first time.”

Your tears flow harder at that. A shaky breath escapes you, though it does nothing to steady you. Dean strokes your cheek gently with his thumb.

“Please, just give me this one chance,” he asks. Begs, really.

He doesn’t have to though. You nod, just a little.

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s try.”

Dean's smile spreads slow, but warm across his face. It’s your favorite kind, the kind that crinkles his eyes.

He leans in and claims your lips with his own. The passion of it is familiar, but you don't think it’s the same as five years ago. Now, there’s an underlying note of tenderness in his touch and each new way he tastes you deeper. He holds nothing back this time, and neither do you.

Your fingers tangle in his shirt, and then in his hair as you moan into his mouth. “Dean.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he answers against your lips, though he doesn’t give you much room to keep talking.

You haven’t heard him call you sweetheart in a long time. You feel your heart knitting back together, stitch by stitch. Tears sting in your eyes anew, but you squeeze your eyes shut against them.

“I…”

You can’t even continue the breathless thought. You hold his face desperately between your hands, pressing your forehead to his for a moment as you both catch your breath. But this man is like the sweetest, most seductive vice. Now that you’ve gotten another hit, you can’t resist. You no longer want to.

His arms wrap around you more securely, and he leans in to lure you back into his kiss. His tongue breaches past your lips to curl along yours with tantalizing strokes. His hands slowly move down your back and along your waist.

“Mmm, missed the hell outta this,” he groans into your mouth. Your heart flutters again at the way he holds you, the way his big hands squeeze you and feel you.

You let him guide you down onto the sofa cushions. He slots himself between your bare thighs and runs his hand up familiar smooth skin, bunching the skirt of your dress higher as he goes. He aims to get himself reacquainted with every soft part of you that welcomes him back.

For once, the gates around your hearts swing free.

Dean never imagined that his own son would hand him the ring he gives to his wife, but today, it just feels like symmetry. He grins and winks at Robbie.

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean says.

His son’s beaming grin is wide and toothy, but the boy takes his job very seriously and delivers the other ring to you. You smile brightly and caress his cheek after you take the shining, white gold band from him. It matches the thinner band that Dean has for you; it'll soon join the engagement ring that once belonged to his mother.

Robbie had liked Benny a lot, but he loves his dad. He’s probably the happiest person in the room to see his parents take each other’s hands in front of the minister.

Benny is understandably absent in the chapel today. You had met with him after that night of your botched anniversary to apologize to him, and so had Dean. Benny understood. He’d admitted that in the back of his mind, he feared this might happen.

“I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me,” you said to him. “You can even hate me if you want.” Benny gave you a wry, melancholy sort of smile. “Part of me’s still mad at you, I won’t lie…but there’s no use in it. Not even hating you.”

Even though Benny bowed out, carrying his hurt and his grief on those broad shoulders, letting you go meant letting go of a friend too. He put in his paperwork to transfer out of Firehouse 83.

As he’d told Dean himself that day, and in fact, the last words Benny said to him…

“There you go, Lieutenant. A spot’s just opened up.”

Dean didn’t want to get promoted this way. He felt guilty enough as it was, and not just for Benny leaving the firehouse. Benny recommended Dean to the Chief himself though, saying that if they were going to give someone a Lieutenant’s badge, it may as well be the guy who got a perfect score on his test, and had the natural leadership skills to boot.

To the end, Benny was a gentleman.

Now, Sam beckons his nephew over. Robbie quickly goes to his uncle’s side and puffs his little chest out as he stands proud behind his dad.

Dean is able to take you in, your beautiful white dress, and everything about you that makes him smile…including the way you smile back at him.

Man and wife is all he hears. It’s all he needs to hear, before he’s pulling you closer by your newly anointed hand. He dips you for a thorough kiss in front of all your family and friends.

You squeal in surprise, making Dean smile hard enough for his cheeks to hurt. Giggling hard enough to make you tremble, you raise a hand to caress his cheek. But you give him another real kiss after he guides you back up to your feet.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. The words are just for him to hear. Dean pulls back enough to see the truth shining in your eyes. Beautiful.

“Can’t help it, right?” he teases.

You smile in amusement, but you grab his chin and shake it.

“You got me,” you reply. “I really, really can’t.”

Your beaming smile softens. Even though the entire room is clapping and hooting and hollering in celebration, in that moment, all you really see is Dean.

Here in his arms, you know that this is where you were meant to end up. From now on, it’s where you’re meant to be.

AN: From Lisa and Benny to Robbie and everything in between. Dean and the reader certainly aren't perfect in this, but what do you think about how their story unfolded? I truly hope you guys enjoy this one, because I've had so much fun with it. 🥰❤️❤️‍🔥

So please let me know what you thought! 😘

⋆˙⟡ Keep Reading: The Epilogue

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?"