#i worked so hard on this so please give it love

[shawtuzi]

request: ‘Can you please write a Toji x (blk)fem reader smut but she like one of those earthy girls with all the waist chains/beads and he like obsessed with her style and all the jewelry she wears. boho/earthy girls don’t get enough love.’

i hear you anon and i see you so here you go <333

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: drug usage (weed), oral m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, slight pussyjob, toji likes her sm so a lot of praise, PUSSYDRUNK TOJI!!!, sex outdoors (no one can see them hehe), creampie, an ‘i like you’ confession bc i’ve been watching a lot of rom coms lately///not proofread sorry :(

‘it’s a lot of lust not a lot of love’

you hummed along to the song as you made out with toji, your tongue swirling against his. your bracelets jangled against your wrist as you tugged on his soft locs, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you did so. “slow down toji, s’no rush,” you mumbled against his lips, teeth biting down the tiniest bit on his bottom lip.

toji tried to distract himself by toying with your waist beads, but it just wasn’t working. between the two blunts you both shared, along with a couple sips of wine—courtesy of you, there was just no way you expected him to be in his right mind enough for him to go slow. “i don’t want to go slow though,” he groaned, grabbing a handful of your ass over your skirt.

you kissed your teeth, now pulling away from the pouting man. you pushed him down against the blanket you had crocheted yourself, your hands now resting on his pecs. “you’re so impatient you know that? need my pussy that bad hm?” you giggled cocking your head to the side. toji gulped, his eyes finding it hard to stay locked on yours. eye contact with you was always so intense.

“yes….yes i am impatient and yes i need your pussy that bad.”

you smiled at his words, now leaning down to give him a slow kiss. you kissed your way down his jaw, to his neck, and finally down his chest. “damn….you got this worked up over a little kissing?” you teased, cupping toji over his jeans, earning a deep groan from him. toji didn’t respond, instead he just gave you the finger, too fucked out already to even come up with a proper comeback.

toji hissed when he felt you finally undo the button to his jeans, his leaking dick now free from its confinements. “go slow m’feelin’ a little sensitive,” toji grumbled and all you did was laugh, taking his throbbing dick in your hands. you gave the tip a soft squeeze, licking your lips. “now you wanna go slow? that’s funny,” you snickered, bringing his dick to your mouth, suckling the tip softly.

you ran your tip along the underside of his dick, fighting the urge to laugh again when you felt toji buck his hips up. toji wanted so badly to just push your head down, but you had just gotten your hair done a few days prior and he’d hate to cause you any discomfort. it was your first time getting passion twists and he was absolutely enamored with the way you looked with them.

“deeper—please go deeper y/n,” toji finally lifted his head up, now making eye contact with you but he reallyyyyy wishes he hadn’t. the way you were looking at him with those low, red eyes; eyelashes fluttering shut each time you took more of him in your mouth had him wanting to bust right then and there. toji felt his face flush, cheeks burning hot at the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing to ever grace this earth—which in his opinion he wasn’t, far from it honestly.

toji’s eyes rolled back when he felt his dick hit the back of your right throat. “mmph fuck yeah—that’s that shit,” he groaned, bringing his hand to rest on the crown of your head. he didn’t grip it or apply any pressure, he just sat there and let you do what do best—suck the soul outta him.

the wind began to pick up, giving toji’s flaming cheeks a nice breeze to cool off. you made him so…so…beside himself. i mean for god sakes you had him fucking in the middle of a field of flowers, blazed out of his mind—it’s safe to say the grip you had on him was the most annoying shit ever.

“keep sucking me like that baby, f-fuck, take it deeper. be a good girl and take it deeper f’me,” you listened without protest, taking the last few inches of him in your mouth. toji was beyond fucked out, praises flying past his lips left n right and it only egged you on to turn him into even bigger pile of mush than he already was.

you pulled off of his dick with lewd pop! now paying attention to his swollen balls. toji’s body jerked, his heavy hand gripping onto your shoulder. “w—hah! w-wait y/n,” toji hissed, his jaw clenching impossibly tight. you lifted your head up, puffing air through your cheeks.

“i’m sorry i—”

“just shush toji.”

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before crawling up toji’s body, your lower half hovering over his twitching dick. you pushed toji down gently by his shoulders, humming to yourself at just how damn good he looked beneath you.

“you’re fuckin’ unreal,” toji sounded damn near breathless as he said it, his chest puffing up with each deep breath. his hand reached up to tug down your olive green, cropped tube top; his rough hands immediately latching onto your breasts.

“you really mean that or you jus’ fucked up?” you knew he meant it with all his heart, you just wanted to hear him say it. you blindly reached for the end of your skirt, tugging the soft material up your thighs. just as you pressed your panty clad pussy against toji’s dick he whispered the three words ‘i mean it’ in your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe.

the words ‘i like you’ were sitting so heavy on his tongue but he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you how he felt.

toji—a grown ass thirty four year old man who’s literally served time in the slammer was scared to tell you, a twenty something year old woman who was the literal embodiment of a fawn how he felt about you. what a joke.

“what are you thinking about?” you spoke softly, running your thumb over the stubble on toji’s jaw. toji shook his head, bringing his rough hands to your petal soft love handles.

“s’nothin.”

“liar.”

“i said it’s nothing.”

your breath hitched, mouth dropping open slightly at the feeling of toji’s dick pressed against your bare pussy. he felt so hot and soft against you and toji could certainly say the same thing about you. with one harsh tug toji ripped your thong off, tossing the semi soaked material to the side. you rlly should’ve known better with that one—toji hates whenever things are in his way.

“you’re such a liar toji,” your laugh was breathless as you began to slowly grind your pussy against toji’s dick. he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing in annoyance but mostly pleasure. he was already so close it was so fucking embarrassing. pre dripped from his throbbing tip and onto his clenching abs, creating an even bigger mess between the two of you.

toji bucked his up, puffing air through his cheeks to silently tell you he was more than ready for you. you gave him a small smile, your tooth gems glistening in the afternoon sun. “can i confess something toji?” you asked, lifting yourself up to balance your weight on your feet. you grabbed toji’s dick, swiping his tip between your folds before slowly inserting it.

you both gasped in unison, toji’s eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that enveloped his cock. “w-what do you need to confess you fu—hucking brat,” he growled, his fingernails digging in the soft flesh of your thighs. in one swift movement you sat all the down, toji’s balls now pressed snugly against your backside.

“i really, really like hanging out with you toji,” your voice was a little high pitched, rightfully so because you practically feel the trembling man below you in your stomach. you pressed your hands against toji’s chest, bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it.

you brushed a stray hair out of toji’s face, cradling his jaw in your palm that still smelled of the shea butter you applied before your outing. “you like hanging out with me too toji? you like me?” your tone was coming off a tad desperate but you could’ve cared less. toji’s adam’s apple bobbed, a pathetic whine bubbling in his throat.

“yes.”

“yes what?”

toji wrapped his arms around your waist, his feet planting into the ground before fucking up into you. “yes i fucking l-like you y/n, could you not—shit! fucking tell? jesus christ your pussy is so good,” toji couldn’t help the drool that slipped past his lips, it was impossible to keep his mouth shut at this point. your hands found themselves in toji’s hair, tugging roughly at the soft strands.

“i knew you did i just wanted to hear you say it. i like you too toji.”

i like you too toji.

toji halted his movements, his dick now in you to the hilt. you suddenly felt a warm sensation in your lower half and knew immediately that toji was in the process of cumming. you circled your hips as best as you could, milking him for all he was worth.

“hah f-fucking shit i can’t stop fucking cumminggg,” he groaned, burying his face in your sweet smelling neck; the scent of vanilla and caramel had him feeling more dizzy than he already was.

after giving toji a few minutes to catch his breath you sat up, his dick still sheathed inside of you. “look how messy,” you spread your lips, giving toji a mouthwatering view of your overly stuffed pussy. toji licked his lips, reaching over to down the rest of the wine that was in your abandoned glass.

“lemme clean you up.”

[lovebugism]

✶ ┄ HOLY GRAIL !

summary: in ancient rome, where survival is determined by the whims of a mad ruler, the empire's beloved general gives you – his first and only love – to the crazed emperor to ensure your safety. (6k)

pairing: marcus acacius / fem!reader, emperor geta / fem!reader

contents: established relationship, strangers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort cw for mentions of war and violence, mentions of sex work, swearing, smut 18+ (dubcon, m receiving oral, unprotected sex, cuckholding, exhibitionism) (this is a pretty dark fic so pls heed the warnings!!!)

Marcus Acacius was the name on the lips of a thousand fallen empires. His ledger ran a deep scarlet color, which dripped like proof from his sword. The war had destroyed the General over the years — had turned the man into an empty thing filled only by untamable ghosts. The relentless battle had wrung his boyhood from his body like a slow, merciless death. Any remaining innocence has since been replaced with violence.

Rome made a legacy of his grotesque evils, turned him into a saint. Marcus Acacius did not want to be a saint. He did not want to be angry; he did not want to be cruel. He only wanted to love and to be left alone with his tenderness. His mouth filled with blood instead.

You loved him like all doomed, grotesque things are meant to be loved. In the dark. In the shadows of war. In the depths of the soul.

“This is me,” he confesses, the great General Acacius, returning to you like a ghost to its haunt. “This is who I am.”

His golden armor is sullied from a victorious battle, tainted now with blotches of soil and dried blood that’s not his own. His dirtied, unholy fists tremble at his sides as he fights the urge to cross the threshold of your quarters to meet you. Marcus knows he doesn’t deserve to be held by you now. Not when he still wreaks of death.

He can still feel the breath of a fist on his bruised cheek, but the way his sword felt plunging through the beating heart of an enemy soldier plagues him most of all. 

“Love turned on me long ago— It is not a burden I compel you to carry.”

So, please, do not love me, he doesn’t say. I only know how to destroy you.

You smile at him, eyes soft with sympathy, and cross the threshold of longing with an admirable effortlessness. You cradle his weathered, war-torn face in your palms, willingly staining your delicate hands with the blood stained there.

“I love you despite. So I imagine I’ll carry it anyway,” you coo to him, gentle eyes locked firmly with his heavy ones. “And I’m certain you love me in return, regardless of what you think the siege has made of you.”

“There is naught I can do about it,” Marcus admits, words heavy with choked-back emotion. He melts into your touch but continues to deny himself the want to hold you back. “Not while I still oversee this campaign. Not while there is a war to be won—”

“We love each other, don’t we?” you interject, pleading eyes searching for emotion behind his dark, stoic gaze. Marcus swallows hard. His scruffy chin scrapes your palm as he nods once in response. You grin and say the unforgiving truth out loud. “So fuck the war.”

You pull him down by his face to press a kiss to his unclean lips. Marcus rests his shaking hands over your waist and lets you build cathedrals in his mouth with your tongue. The blood in his teeth turns to holy water. 

Marcus long understood that bringing you to the city would be his last act of love.

Keeping you in the heart of Rome was the only way he could ensure your safety, with the surrounding towns still under merciless siege. The people there were docile, and loyal most of all to the General who had won them a thousand wars. They would not hurt you because it was not in their kind too, and because they feared General Acacius’ wrath as much as they respected his mercy.

This was known to everyone in Rome except its Emperors.

Geta and Caracalla ruled together following their father’s untimely demise but shared not a brain between them. They were boys, after all, the oldest being hardly two-and-twenty –– it was in their nature to talk more than they listened, and to pretend as if they knew the world despite never leaving the city walls. 

They were as cruel and as stupid as anyone who wished to rule an empire would be.

But the two of them relied heavily on their General to keep the restless public at ease. It made it easier for Marcus to bring you with him, knowing he had the trust of the most powerful men in Rome. He knew Geta kept meticulous care of his most precious gifts — all Marcus had to do was get you there, really, and the Emperors would do the rest for him. 

It was simple, but it was not easy; though he imagines no war ever has been or would be. Both of you had survived, yes, but neither of you had been spared. Bringing you here was a testament to that, which you seemingly could not comprehend. You were as soft and green as the countryside he plucked you from, too naive for politics.

Marcus tells himself that this was the merciful decision, anyway, as he gives you a tour of Caracalla’s labyrinthine gardens — the place farthest from the feasting hall where the noblemen dined. Hidden behind climbing leaves, free from prying eyes.

“I can’t imagine why you would be so apprehensive in bringing me here. It’s beautiful,” you marvel aloud as you walk ahead of the man guiding you. 

Your sandals pad faintly along the cobbled trail as you skim your palm over the bed of blooming roses. The petals feel like silk against your skin. You pluck one from the soil, careful to avoid its thorns, and hold it up to your nose. You turn to face Marcus with the crimson flower resting on your cupid’s bow.

“And it smells better, too,” you quip softly, tilting your head to your shoulder as you smirk behind the budding rose.

Marcus just barely manages to bite back his own grin until you reach out for him, tapping the delicate flower against the bridge of his strong nose. He exhales hard through his nostrils in place of a laugh.

Your giggling comes carried on the breath of a warm summer breeze — a symphony of salty ocean, dainty florals, and the pretty oils you’d bathed in. The wind billows through your thin, white gown and creates music with rustling leaves. You squint one eye when the setting sun peeks through the swishing tree limbs, bathing you in a golden-hour aura. 

You’re as beautiful as sin. Sweeter than death. Smiling at him like this is the beginning of something that died the moment you entered the city walls.

Marcus clears throat and gently guides your hand away. His cautious eyes flit around the vacant garden. He’s constantly looking over his shoulder, you find, despite being the strongest man in all of Rome. You feel safest at his side, so you don’t know why he always looks so frightened.

“I know you are drunk on youth and immortality, petal, but we cannot get ahead of ourselves,” he advises, all stiff and stern, though the term of endearment spills effortlessly from his mouth. “We’re in the city now. So we must play the part. Like we discussed.”

He speaks to you with an unintentional sort of vagueness that makes you bow your head like a scolded child. Your arm falls limp at your side. A scarlet petal slips from its stem and hits the unforgiving stone.

“I know,” you murmur with a poorly hidden frown that conveys otherwise. Your sheepish gaze flits from the ground to Marcus’ unwavering stare and to the ground again. “I just thought— whenever we were alone, that we might—”

“We aren’t alone. We must behave as though the city is full of eyes. Understand?”

“I can’t,” you confess, peering up at the General from beneath your lashes. 

Marcus’ chest stings, like the fiery sun blazing his newly-fashioned armor. “What do you mean you can’t?” he bites emotionlessly.

He looks like a corrupt sort of angel in this light, unnaturally handsome and hopelessly wartorn. He was as hard as the earth below your feet — a statue made of clay, iron, and marble — cold to the touch and melting only for you. 

His heavy eyes were so brown they looked almost black, and they shone with a perpetual sort of gloom. His gaze swam with the prophetic darkness of a man who’s seen too much, though you often felt like you could drown in its void. For a man so adept at killing, he looked at you with a remarkable softness.

It wasn’t as shallow as physical desire. It was something far more cruel. You wanted Marcus Acacius the same way flesh wanted to knit itself together over a healing wound. It was simply in your nature to love him. 

“I mean, it’s impossible,” you ramble with a concerned furrow to your brow. Your grip on the flower’s papery stem tightens until the bulb rattles with the force. “How am I to be here with you but not touch you? That’s like asking the seasons not to change— It’s unnatural, and it’s cruel—”

Marcus swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His hands begin to ache with the urge to touch you. He balls them into fists instead.

“It’s the only way I know to keep you safe!” he confesses, words sounding heavy in his mouth. His eyes flit across the garden in a paranoid search of something that isn’t there. “Emperor Geta will take care of you. I know he will. And his brother is a half-wit, but he is kind when he wishes. He’ll take a liking to you, I’m sure of it—”

You interject his anxious rambling with a stubborn shake of your head.

“I can’t be someone else’s,” you murmur, voice as wet as the tears glittering in your wide-eyed gaze. “I don’t know how.”

“You will learn,” Marcus tells you with an emotionless stare. Not because he’s sure you will, but because he knows you have to. “For me.”

Your pretty features swirl with anguish. “Marcus…” you whisper his name in a feeble whimper caught in your throat.

He does not soften at your emotion like you’re used to. He’s practiced apathy for so long that it comes naturally to him now. He bites his tongue to keep from kissing you and lets the blood stain his teeth all over again.

“If not for your own sake, then for mine. The Emperors would have my head if they understood the pretenses I brought you under.”

You flinch at his words, perhaps finally understanding the weight of the unforgiving world in which you live. The surest example of such cruelty stands before you now, in the only man you ever loved now using your purest devotion as a means to keep you pliant. But your anger for the merciless arrangement is long eclipsed by your yearning.

“Then I will,” you tell him, rigid with a glacial disposition Marcus hasn’t seen before now.

The choices here were few. Either you were slaughtered outside the city walls by soldiers and pillagers, or you were slaughtered within them — in the metaphorical sense that burns physically in your chest now. 

Being without Marcus feels like a fate worse than death, but you want him so desperately to live. So much so that you’ll fall on the sword of your longing and bleed out at his feet. Knowing that you’re under the same sky would have to be enough for you. 

You can’t tell which it is — sacrifice or self-slaughter — but Marcus knows it isn’t as poetic as all that. 

Death is death.

Emperor Geta staggers drunkenly down the spiral stone steps of the west wing of his castle. The path to his chambers is illuminated by several dwindling torches hung along the brick walls. The subtle squeaking of his leather sandals sounds much louder in the quiet — filled only by crackling flames, a distant dripping noise, and the song he slurs under his breath. 

The latter ceases suddenly when he stumbles to a stop at the sight of General Acacius. The man stands like a statue outside his bedroom door — arms crossed behind his back, old spine perfectly straight — like the obedient guard dog he is. 

The thought makes the Emperor’s lips curl into a crooked smile. “What are you doing here, dog?” he calls to the General as he approaches him, voice echoing down the soulless corridor.

“Your nameday present, your majesty—” Marcus answers and tries not to make a face when the Emperor stands before him. The bittersweet scent of wine stains his breath, overwhelmingly so. Geta was never one to practice temperance. “—I was told to see that you got it.”

The younger man hesitates. “From my uncle?” he wonders aloud.

Marcus nods wordlessly in response.

Geta pauses for a moment. His wide, glassy eyes flit over the General’s shoulder to the arched doorway behind him. His stomach swirls at the thought of what may lie inside. The last nameday present his uncle sent from overseas was a monkey his younger brother has grown much too attached to.

“Well… What is it?”

Marcus swallows hard and steps aside. “Look inside, your majesty.”

Geta takes a deep breath in and swings the creaking door open. His bedroom is lush with crimson silk and golden candlelight, familiarly fragranced with cinnamon and sweet myrrh. It’s accompanied by something foreignly floral, a feminine rosy-lavender that catches his attention before his eyes ever find you.

He steps through the threshold and finds a strange girl standing by the window, before a platter of fruit and wine — bathed half in the silver beams of a full moon, and half in flickering orange flames. 

White silk adorns your frame, so delicate it’s nearly see-through. One of your shoulders is mouthwateringly bare, and there’s a slit in the fabric that rises to your hip. You look as pure as a dove, though you’re so obviously built for sin.

The ground sways beneath Geta’s unsteady feet.

You crunch audibly into an apple before you realize anyone’s there. The juice runs down your chin before you swipe it away with the back of your hand. Only then do your eyes lock with the Emperor’s, who seems equally stunned to see you there. You tense and say nothing as you hide the bitten fruit behind your back.

“It’s a woman,” Geta observes to no one in particular, though his dark eyes have not yet wavered from yours.

Marcus stands behind him and nods — hands still clasped behind his back, heart still pounding against his ribcage. “Yes, your majesty. In plain terms.”

“Well,” the Emperor glances over his shoulder. “What does she do?”

“Whatever you want,” the General answers, though the words taste like vinegar on his tongue. He swallows the bitterness down like bile and leers at you, looking upon his lover as though she were a stranger. “You need only ask.”

Geta, satisfied by his answer, turns back to you. His initial surprise has ebbed into something more pleased, diabolically so. His pink lips curl into a sneer as he walks slowly towards you, eyeing you up and down with curious eyes — a predator stalking its prey.

“Is that true?” he asks you, voice ringing through the quiet room. “Or is he confusing you for a dutiful hound?”

“A dutiful whore, your majesty,” you correct with an acquiescent smile, following the story as Marcus intended. 

The half-truth comes easily to you. Not a lie exactly, but not the whole tale either. You’d spent many of your years working in a brothel on the outskirts of Rome. You were a young woman, unmarried, without family or viable prospects — whoring seemed the most obvious decision then, though it feels so long ago now. 

You’d waited your whole life for something, for Marcus, though you hadn’t expected it to kill you when you found it. You won’t die a saint if the crazed Emperor decides to take your head, but perhaps you could be a martyr. Perhaps that’ll be enough.

Fear beats through your body like a second heart, but your eyes never waver from the Emperor’s. It’s easiest to meet his gaze. He feels more like a human that way. 

There are flecks of gold in his dark eyes, and dark strands in his gold hair. He’s got stubble on his long neck, spots on his broad nose, and wrinkles on his forehead. Not quite as perfect as the pristine white-gold armor would let on.

His eyes flit down your form once more. Something sparks in the deep brown of them, a flicker of silent realization. He spins suddenly on the heel of his sandal to flash Marcus an accusatory glare.

“Is she your whore, General?” he lilts into the heavy silence. His brows raise when he receives no answer from the man across the room. “The question was not rhetorical, Acacius.”

“No, your majesty. She is not mine,” Marcus answers, then clears his throat when the words get stuck there. It’s like he’s plunging a knife through his own heart. He can feel the cold sting of the sharpened blade and the burn of the blood on his skin. “Though, I don’t believe whores belong to anyone.”

A boyish chuckle spills from the Emperor’s mouth. “No. They don’t,” he says with an airy giddiness. “Not before now, anyway—”

Geta spins back again, pleated skirt fanning around his pale thighs. His smile fades with an eerie swiftness. “What are you waiting for? Undress,” he commands with a wave of his ringed hand.

Your wide eyes flit instinctively past him to Marcus, who still idles in the doorway. Only then does he realize how long he’s been staring at you. He forces himself to glance off in another direction, but his gaze keeps finding yours — like a magnet, or a planet with its own gravitational pull.

Your eyes lock, and the only thing you hear is each other, though neither of you has spoken a word. This is the only way, you hear his voice in your head as clearly as your own. This is the only way to stay together. The only way to survive.

Geta mistakes your fear.

“Don’t worry about him, little dove,” he coos, and taps the bottom of your chin with his fingers — as soft and petaled as your own. He smiles when your attention turns to him again, speaking loud enough for the General to hear. “He’s only the guard dog. And good boys get scraps, don’t they, Acacius?”

Marcus’ face screws like he’s tasted something sour. He’s grateful the Emperor isn’t looking at him to see it. “They do, your majesty,” he monotones.

“So you will watch. And report to my uncle how his lovely present fared,” he calls to the older man, though his eyes remain locked with yours. You tense when his pale hand reaches suddenly for your face. He holds your cheeks in his fingers until your lips jut in a soft pout. “Let’s hope I don’t have to send him back your head, little dove.”

He says it with an absentminded effortlessness, as though it’s something he’s done before. 

Still, you manage a small smile and blink up at him with innocent eyes. “What good is a dead whore, your majesty?” you quip.

Geta’s grin widens.  “Precisely. Now undress.”

You reach for the singular sleeve of your slip with trembling fingers. Your right hand sweeps across your left shoulder, skin blazing with fear and anticipation. The fabric trails down down down your arm before falling to your feet in a puddle of milky white silk. Your bare body glows silver and gold between moonlight and flame. 

Goosebumps pebble over your skin despite the humid summer night as Geta circles you like prey. His eyes trail slowly down your form in time with his rhythmic steps. The sound of his sandals scrapping the stone floor, crackling candlelight, and subdued breathing are the only sounds in the quiet room for several long moments.

The Emperor disappears behind you, and you forget how to breathe. Your wide, wet eyes find Marcus once more — pleading, though for what, you cannot say. His face reveals nothing but wrath burns in his gaze.

Geta reappears at your right side. You smell grape wine on his breath when he nears you, breathing heavily through his mouth as he reaches out to touch you. His ringed hands smooth over your collarbone. Your breath catches in your throat. He smiles as though your fright pleases him.

“You’re skittish for a whore,” he muses, playful in a way that makes your stomach wrench. “Are you sure the General didn’t bring me a virgin?”

You swallow hard as his hand trails down your body. Over the swell of your breast, skimming his thumb over your taut nipple, before tracing the expanse of your ribs. His fingers run down your stomach and past the thatch of hair between your legs. They dip finally between your thighs. 

Geta hums a faint moan at the velvet feeling of your pussy. The way your lips part for his fingers, silky skin warm and wet to the touch. 

“I’m whatever you want me to be, your majesty,” you answer, breathing hard through your nose when he pulls his hand away — a warmth you find yourself begrudgingly grieving.

“I need only ask…” the Emperor coos, running his middle and pointer finger over your bottom lip. They shine with the honey you leak despite yourself. Your mouth parts, and he rests the pads of them on your tongue. “…Do I not?”

You nod wordlessly through the salty fingers in your mouth, trying to imagine their Marcus’.

Geta smiles when he parts from you. “Undress me,” he demands. 

You work at his tricky armor with nervous hands and bated breath. 

You unclasp his cape first. The white fabric, now free from its chain, falls heavily to the floor behind him. Your fingers have gone noticeably clammy as they struggle with the sleeves of his tunic. It takes you a beat too long to loosen the laces at his shoulders. The cloth falls finally and puddles around his feet, leaving his lean body on display before you.

His torso is lean and mostly hairless, save for splotches of chestnut on his sternum and stomach. His skin is smooth and flushed from the alcohol. His stomach is slim but noticeably full. The Emperor is well-taken care of, though his subjects outside the keep suffer from the consequences of war.

Your trembling fingers curl around the hem of his loincloth. His pale skin is warm to the touch, boiling with desire while you freeze over with fear. You crouch before him as you drag the garment down his scruffy thighs. You hear Geta sigh above you when his half-hard cock meets the cool summer night air. 

He’s paler there compared to the rest of his golden body, though the mushroom tip glows a faint strawberry-red color. A vein trails in jagged lines to the base of his heavy cock, fading as it reaches the thatch of dark blonde hair at his pubic bone. He’s not nearly as thick as Marcus, though not many people could hope to be — but he is long and thin and soft like velvet.

“How do I look?” Geta wonders as he steps out of his loincloth. He tilts his chin to his chest to peer down at you, on your knees to untie the intricate laces of his sandals. You blink up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Without my armor,” he adds, then repeats. “How do I look?”

You realize, then, that he wants your praise. Though you’re unsure why, you’re not in any position to deny him of it. “You’re a— a very handsome man, your majesty,” you respond cautiously, with a wavering smile.

You hear his breath catch at the compliment. The corner of his mouth flickers upward, and his nostril flares as he takes a deep breath in. 

“Well, go on, then,” he insists suddenly, nodding his head to egg you onward. “Good whores don’t keep their masters waiting, do they? You don’t want to see me impatient, little dove.”

You wrap his stiff cock in a tentative fist, averting your gaze as you give an experimental kitten lick to the bulbous, strawberry tip. Your tongue swipes away the pearlescent pre-cum beading there. The salty tang is foreign on your tongue, sweeter and thicker than you’re used to.

You imagine your lover when you take the Emperor’s cock in your mouth. A practiced form of dissociation that comes naturally to you now. 

You focus on the way the stone floor digs into your knees as you cup his balls in your hand — a desperate attempt to finish him quickly. Geta shudders when you swallow him whole, burying your nose in the coarse thatch of hair at the base of his cock. His head tips back as he groans at the ceiling.

“You are a proper whore…” the Emperor moans with a delirious smile. He tilts his flushed cheek to his freckled shoulder to sneer at Marcus, then frowns when his eyes meet the back of him. “Are you distracted, General?”

The man keeps his back turned and his eyes trained on the wall, counting the bricks there to distract his racing mind. His mouth snarls at the Emperor’s words. His hands ball into fists as he fights to keep his composure.

“Just giving you your privacy, your majesty.”

“Nonsense!” Geta laughs, loud. “You should watch! You should observe— so you know what to tell my uncle.”

Marcus can hear the mischievous lilt in the younger boy’s voice. Like it’s all just a game to him. Like you’re just a whore to be played with, and like Marcus’ only hope of companionship is warfare. Both might’ve been true once, but not since you find each other.

The general smacks his lips against his teeth. “As you wish,” he deadpans and spins on the heel of his sandal.

He’s strangely grateful to find the Emperor’s body obscuring your own. Geta’s lean, pale form towers over your kneeling one — back muscles flexing, hips thrusting, fingers knitting in your hair.

But Marcus can still hear the sounds of your mouth on the other man’s cock. The room fills with heavy breathing, wet noises, and the Emperor’s unabashed whines. Embers of envy burn in the General’s empty chest. A wildfire of want and wrath rages behind his ribcage.

You swallow with Geta’s cock in your throat and squeeze softly at his balls. You hear his breath hitch just before a lengthy moan spills from his parted mouth. Several loads of salty cum spit down your throat a second later. The man shows you little mercy as he holds you by your hair, keeping your nose pressed to his pubic bone. You take shallow breaths through your nose and try not to choke.

You pull off of him when he lets you go. A string of saliva threatens to keep you connected. You take a deep breath in and swipe at your swollen mouth with the back of your hand, staying on your knees while the Emperor tilts his head back. He exhales a breathy laugh of relief at the ceiling. You peer up at him with wide, wet eyes, still so uncertain of your fate.

“Proper whore, indeed,” Geta muses, almost to himself, as he drops his heavy head once more. 

His flushed chest sparkles with a foreign feeling at the sight of you beneath him — eyes teary and fearful, lips swollen and rosy, features flushed with sweat and sex. His cock jerks, still sensitive but threatening to harden again. He grips himself with a loose fist.

“On the bed,” he instructs suddenly, then grins madly at your shock. “You didn’t think I was done with you, surely. Not until I mount you like a mare, anyway— Treat you like the bitch in heat you are…”

Geta cups your warm cheek in his free hand. His touch is strangely gentle as he cradles you there, right before he smacks gently at your jaw to urge you upward. 

Your bare feet pad towards the bed, then. Geta swats your ass as you go and laughs when you squeak in response. You fight the urge to look at Marcus, lest you see the rage burning in his eyes — lest he see the heartbreak swimming in yours. 

Marcus watches you crawl over the silken sheets, both of you sporting similar far-off gazes. He feels a bit like a ghost now. An empty, invisible thing, doomed to watch the rest of the world go on without ever being able to live in it. It’s dreadfully symbolic of how he’s lived most of his life, and how he’s spent the years loving you. Because even if a ghost is full of love, the only thing it knows to do is haunt.

The silk pillow feels cool under your burning cheek. The mattress dips under the Emperor’s weight when he kneels behind you. His ringed fingers smooth over your ass and down the arch of your back. He treats you with an uncharacteristic sort of tenderness, as though he were molding you out of clay.

“You are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” he whispers under his breath. “And timid, too… I like that…” 

Your pussy clenches at his words despite yourself. Geta’s chest swells with pride accordingly. “You don’t have to be scared, little dove. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

Despite his words, he does not bother to ready you for his cock when he positions himself at your pulsing entrance. You hadn’t expected him to, of course — not many men were as kind as Marcus in that way, who often treated your pleasure as if it were his own. But the slick sticking to your thighs has made your pussy more than pliant. Your velvet walls swallow Geta’s cock with a pulsing vigor.

The Emperor groans as he fucks into you, savoring every inch as he buries himself to the hilt. His ringed fingers dig into the plush of your waist, as though you were a toy he didn’t want getting snatched away.

“Look at the hound!” Geta giggles boyishly to himself. “He’s itching for a feel of you— I just know it.”

Marcus remains as still and stoic as the battalion trained him to be. He reveals nothing on his face, though his skin prickles with flames of envy beneath his armor. 

Marcus Acacius was not a jealous man. His love for you was a testament to that. He visited the brothel you boarded in and spared the same coins as every man in the establishment did. But it was different now. Because the Emperor does not deserve you, and he forces Marcus to watch as if he knows it, too.

Something within him seethes, like a feral animal trapped behind his ribcage, desperately clawing its way out.

“Look at him,” Geta snaps when he sees you staring at the wall, eyes glassy and glazed over. He’s grinning all over again when your gaze snaps to Marcus’. 

The soldier’s weathered eyes burn with tears then. General Acacius has faced death a thousand times over, but it wasn’t quite as heartwrenching as this. His wrath simmers to a boil. He swallows it down like fire.

This is her salvation, he tells himself. This is how she survives.

Your features twist with the anguish of being seen as the Emperor lays himself over your back. His slick chest sits flush with your spine, pinning you to the mattress. “I bet he can taste you now. Smell you,” he murmurs in your ear, chapped mouth brushing the shell of it. “His mouth is salivating at the thought of putting his tongue on you— Isn’t it, dog?”

Marcus swallows through the emotion threatening to strangle him. He blinks away stinging tears and feigns an air of nonchalance. “It would be… impolite to talk so brashly about something that doesn’t belong to me, your majesty,” the General responds. Obedient. Loyal like a hound.

Geta grins wide. “Good answer, Acacius.”

When the Emperor finally fucks into you, it’s with a sloppy sort of precision. There is no rhythm or care to his thrusts. He is led only by his blinding pleasure, like a man who has only ever fucked playthings and his own fist. He props himself on one forearm and curls the other beneath you, holding your breast in his ringed hand.

Geta’s flushed cheek presses against your own while he slides in and out and into you again. You hear his groaning as you feel it rumbling in his chest, still laid against your back. You stare at a framed portrait on the wall across the room and wait for it to be over, even as your body refuses to dismiss its simmering orgasm.

Your swollen clit ruts against the silk sheets with each of the Emperor’s sloppy thrusts. You can feel a wet spot forming beneath you, and your stomach twists at the thought of seeing proof of your own pleasure. 

His balls smack your leaking cunt, creating a symphony of lewd noises — moaning, whimpering, clapping, smacking. Marcus thinks the sounds of war were more merciful than this.

“Do you understand what that means, little dove?” Geta croons into your ear, words choppy through his labored breaths and irregular thrusts. “You belong— to me now… So whatever you used to be— whoever’s you used to be— no longer matters.”

He thrusts once, hard, and shudders above you with a choked-back groan. You grit your teeth to swallow down your own noises of pleasure. The assault on your clit, though unintentional, is still yet relentless. You feel the distant white-hot burning feeling begin to swell in the pit of your stomach. A coil about to snap.

“Fucking me— Making me feel good—” the Emperor pants, punctuated by his hips against your ass. “—Is your only duty now. Understand?”

You nod, cheek running over the silk cushion as you grip it in your fists. “Yes, your majesty,” you gasp.

Geta presses his smile to the apple of your cheek. He can feel you leaking around him. You’re enjoying this just as much as he is, to be sure. A proper whore, indeed.

“Now… Take my spend like a good bitch, and thank me for it—”

He fucks you harder, and your face twists with a pleasure you’re too weak to fight away. 

Your gaze falls instinctively to Marcus as your orgasm threatens to swallow you whole. Your eyes squeeze shut in a feeble attempt to hide. Your mouth parts with a silent moan as you cum around the Emperor’s cock.

“Thank you, your majesty,” you whimper obediently into the pillow as you tremble beneath him. “Thank you.”

Geta buries a whine in your neck when he cums again. He gives you only two pitiful, warm loads but still possesses more stamina than your Marcus. He stills, then shudders, then rests his unforgiving bodyweight on top of you when pleasure makes a puddle of him. And of you, you assume, as a mixture of your spend leaks out of your cunt and onto the sheets.

“Write to my uncle, Acacius—” Geta slurs into your skin, heavy through labored pants. “—A thank you for my nameday present.”

Marcus forgets, until then, that he can still be seen. He felt more akin to a corpse hidden in the walls, forced to spend his afterlife in a merciless purgatory. His heart has stopped beating, frozen over, and now sits dead in his chest. He will never be as gentle as he was with you. He will be bloodied knuckles and pulsing wounds. Rough and cruel and angry.

“Yes, your majesty,” the General nods, thankful that it’s over now.

Geta rolls off of your body and onto the empty spot beside you — not shy about his nude form or yours. The sudden lack of warmth makes you shiver. 

“And tell him to send another— To keep the General’s bed warm, too,” he says, patting your ass with his palm before smoothing tenderly over the skin. “One whore’s as good as any other, I’m sure.”

Marcus flinches at the thought of being with anyone other than you. He couldn’t hide the look of disgust if he tried. It makes the Emperor laugh loudly in response.

“Oh, did you— Did you want to try this one?” Geta muses knowingly, pointing to your limp body, still trembling beside him with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“No. No, no, no— See, this one’s mine,” he corrects the General as if he were a child. “And it would be impolite to touch something that belongs to me, would it not? It would be treasonous, even.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Marcus nods, lip flickering in a mere hint of a smirk as his plan finally comes to fruition. “It would be.”

The Emperor sees you now as his property, and no one hurts what belongs to him without meeting a certain death. Marcus is comforted only by the thought that nothing can touch you now. Not even him. But perhaps that’s the price he pays for love. Perhaps, in the end, love is grief.

“So best tread lightly, Acacius,” Geta warns with a crooked smile, petting you like a dog. “I’d hate for someone to get hurt.”

[cheeseceli]

Skz meeting a pretty fan

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, just a tiny little bit of angst, headcanons

Description: their reaction to meeting a pretty fan during a fan meeting

Warnings: kind of love at first sight trope, delusional, some of them are dramatic, they are all idols, not proofread

A/n: the way it's been over a year that this has been in my drafts | daily click

Bang Chan

He was kinda of tired already so he was zoning out

When he sees you he is like "...oh"

He is so invested in your conversation

If you comment about the production behind the music he will be so happy

Genuinely loves when someone acknowledges his work so his eyes will shine and he will smile so hard while explaining everything to you

He is upset when you need to move on to the next member

Sees you laughing with the other members and he's like 🤨

Wonders what they did that managed to make you laugh that much

Lee Know

He would stare at you

You know when his mouth is open and you can see his eyes shining?

Yeah, that's him right now

You say hello and he would give you his nervous laugh before looking at you again with those stary eyes

I swear he is such a softie

Would listen to every single word that you say, you can tell he is paying so much attention

Autographs something for you and makes a funny drawing as well hoping you'd laugh

Side eyes the staff when they say the time is up

Even when you move to the next member and other fan is talking to him, he would still look at your direction sometimes and get so flustered if you catch him looking at you

Changbin

Starts small talk right away

Will 100% compliment you

You ask him an autograph and he wonders how bad would it be if he gave you his number instead

Like he knows he cannot do that

But maybe if he was sneaky enough...

Doesn't do it by the end but he low-key regrets it for the rest of his life

He will wake up one day after five years and be like "damn I should've given them my number"

And he will make that everyone's problem

The boys can't stand it anymore because they've heard enough about you by now 😭

Convinces himself that he will see you again one day

Hyunjin

He sees you before you see him, so he is panicking

Is looking at the line all the time wondering if you will want to talk to him

Asks han if his hair looks good before it's your turn to talk to him

No but fr, he can't take his eyes off you

When you start talking he is like 😯

You look and sound like an angel, he must be in heaven

Even after the fan meeting he can't stop thinking about you

If he's feeling bold enough, he will definitely flirt with you

Low-key forgot he was an idol and was ready to risk it all for you

Han

Might believe in love at first sight after your meeting

Compliment him once and he will get so shy

Like sir, weren't you the one flirting like two seconds ago🤨

Would feel so betrayed if he isn't your bias LMAO

He has like a minute and a half to convince you he's the best stray kids member and he WILL try that

And he hopes that someone will record his flirty antics and post it on tiktok just so he can find your socials

He will make all the boys stalk the internet to try to find you

"but you can't contact them even if you find their account, so what's the point?" idk bro but he wants to see you again somehow

Felix

SUCH A FLIRT

The moment he looks at you he is already trying to win your heart

Kinda forgot he was an idol pt.2

Except he didn't forget

He just doesn't care

He wants to flirt with you and that's precisely what he will do

Will even flirt through his autograph if he can

Uses any kind of excuse to make physical contact with you ✨

And side eyes the staff when they tell him it's time to move on

Like no it's not??

Seungmin

Actually pretty good at hiding his new crush??

The most normal one out here surprisingly lol

He will be able to cover it up as just "good mood" but let's be for real

It's because of you

Anyways

Will smile so much

If you compliment his smile (please do!) he will get shy but so so happy

Also steals glances when you go to the next member

He'll be talking to the next fan but ends up laughing because of something he heard you say to another one of the boys

The fan is like ?? but Seungmin is able to play it off

I.N

So dedicated to give you a good impression

If you tell him your favourite skz song is one of his solos (or that your favourite has that title because of his vocals) this man is in heaven

Forgot he was an idol pt.3 except he didn't forget

He just lowkey very lowkey didn't want to be an idol in that exact moment

Had it been on any normal occasion he would probably try to charm you over

But this was his job

He couldn't possibly get delulu over a fan 😭 although he was already midway to that

Ends up covering a song you said you thought would fit his voice

Sees the comments of the cover wondering each one of those were yours

Masterlist | you'll probably like: unrequited love

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto | Images 1, 2 and 3

[yvesntul]

vi x reader’s first time together

18+ minors dni, fingering, intimate sex, fem receiving, oral sex, teasing, squirting, vi in love durr

‘ i can’t believe i get to touch you like this, ‘ you close your eyes feeling vi’s lips press against you, just above your pussy, too easily flustered to even look at her, ‘ you’re so fucking beautiful.. ‘ she commented, her lashes bat in a daze, a breathy laugh leaving your lips in attempt to brush it off, she knew you could never take her compliments serious out of getting nervous, but this was different, this was intimate, you both knew that. this was the farthest you both had gone in your relationship and she wanted to do whatever was possible to reassure you it was all okay. she sees your hips squirm under her contact, you were so worked up, such an easy button to push.

‘ vi, you’re teasing .. ‘

‘ mmm, am i ? or are you too nervous to tell me what you want ? ‘ her pixelated eyes hold a menacing glare with yours, but you’re too busy trying to fix your gaze upon anything other than her. the way she was taunting you during your first time with her was sickening, stimulatingly sickening. ‘ i- i don’t know, i want you, just do something already, please. ‘ she huffs a laugh, wasting no more time diving in. vi starts off with a tongue lick to your cunt, slowly licking her way up to your clit before wrapping both lips around the swollen area. your hands run through her hair. the vibrations of her working making you pull and scratch, causing her to grumble against you with pleasure.

‘ baby oh my god t-that feels so fuckin’ g-good- ohh! ‘ your hips move in sync with her mouth, rubbing your cunt against her face as she follows your path, ‘ all this time i didn’t have a taste of you, ‘ she mumbles and yet you’re already losing it, beginning to lose your patience along with your sanity. she was slurping, kissing, licking and penetrating your pussy with her tongue and she had no remorse while doing so. the lewd sounds from your mouth motivating her, pushing her to do so like it was her last breath here. her tongue continued to work as she sucked on what was almost driving you to the edge. ‘ don’t stop— ‘

‘ god, fucking love the sound of your voice right now, ‘ and that’s when vi slips 2 fingers in without warning, and to be honest, there was no need to. if anything, you needed to be warning her for the messy orgasm you were tiptoeing around. ‘ you’re close aren’t you ? i feel it. ‘ she quizzed and you frantically nodded, your breathing getting heavy. she admired you from her point at the end of the bed. her silence catching your attention as she worked her fingers into you. ‘ stop looking at me like that, ‘ you spoke before she smiled. ‘ i can’t look at my girlfriend ? ‘ ‘ no ! ‘

she laughed at how you tensed, her fingers thrusting into your gummy walls along with the impact from the tip of her tongue flicking against your clit — creating the perfect combination for nothing but pure bliss, ‘ i can feel you angel, just let go for me. give me all of it ..’ her words of encouragement were doing its damn thing, the knot in your belly starting to untie itself on vi’s behalf. your body begins to convulse, this moment felt like more than everything to you, especially to vi, hoping she’d be able to show you her love in every way she’s been wanting, with this only being the beginning.

‘ b-baby .. vi … i’m so close– oh my god .. ‘ she quickly intertwined her hand in yours as you squeeze her knuckles for support through your orgasm. you were too busy making the flesh on her hand turn pale from how hard you were holding on to notice how reactive you verbally were, vi loved every sound coming out of you though. it was a beautiful side of you she had never seen. ‘ i’ve got you babe, let go just like that. ‘ as she says this, you start to panic when you feel the certain pressure below you.

her finger is still working your hole, not pulling away for anything or anyone — not even you. vi sees your small hands trying to pry her own away, but she simply stops you by restraining the same hand pushing her. ‘ wait vi— this feels so different, please, oh my .. ‘ you babble but she didn’t care because she knew what was about to come. ‘ i know, baby. i know. ‘ she holds eye contact with you, feeling your walls begin to tighten around her fingers yet again. that’s when she moves faster, jabbing her finger in and smoothly adding another to completely rupture you. her hand was cramping, but she could take that on any day if it meant she’d be able to see you fall apart.

‘ you’re there. you’re right there, you feel that ? ‘ vi’s question not only earns a loud whine from you, but it finishes you off completely. ‘ holy shit i’m fucking c-cumming vi, oh fuck—” you felt couldn’t even pronounce a single word. the only thing you could begin to make out was her name, and even then, it was just hoarse whines. you don’t see it, but she does. she sees it all — the spurts of your cum soaking her hand, drenching the covers, the way your chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath, your eyes looking into the back of your skull with your lips parted softly as she slowly dragged her fingers out of your walls.

you were fucking breathtaking, she couldn’t believe you were hers.

‘ you did so good, you’re the most beautiful girl ever i swear. ‘ she huffs as you smile at her, you lightly grabbed her face with one hand, bringing her into a long kiss. she uses the weight of one elbow to lean over and place kisses onto your temple. your body is still coming down from its peak, and your vision was still foggy — but you still needed her. you still craved her touch like you had a sweet tooth. ‘ you okay ? didn’t hurt you did i ? ‘ ‘ no no, not at all, vi, i just wan’ more .. ‘ your pleading eyes search for her lips, and once you find them, you inch closer. vi seals it for you, pressing her plumped ones onto your own. you feel the same fingers that were inside you creep up to your chin, then lips — trails of your wet essence lingering on your skin.

‘ are you sure ? ‘

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐋 | all rights reserved — do not modify, copy, or plagiarize any of my works.

[moonchild9350]

Always

summary: you and Hyunjin have a peculiar relationship with your roommate Felix

pairing: est. relationship Hyunjin x fab!reader x roommate Felix

genre: sprinkle of fluff, smut-18+MDNI

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cockwarming, spanking, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, partner sharing, unprotected sex (don't), multiple creampies, squirting, nipply play, dirty talk, use of term slut

notes: short, sweet, and filthy lol I just love hyunjin and felix omg

If you enjoyed, consider a reblog, comment, or like as it keeps me motivated ♡

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

It’s the end of the day, the part where you start to wind down, your mind exhausted from the day’s activities. You’re sitting on your bed holding your penguin plushie as you scroll through your phone when you notice the time.

Seeing that it is almost seven, you sit up as excitement courses through you, your core clenching in anticipation for the evening that’s in store.

Hyunjin will be home soon after a long day at work. You miss your boyfriend dearly, the hours long without him.

At the thought of seeing him soon, you get up out of bed and shimmy out of your sweatpants and panties, leaving yourself in only his oversized shirt, the hem barely grazing your thighs.

You pad to the door and open it, making your way to the living room where a certain blond is sitting, his eyes trained on the tv…that is until you walk in.

At your entrance, Felix looks up and flashes the smile you have grown to love, all teeth and dimples, as he sets his phone down. He beckons you over, his tiny finger making a come hither motion as he invites you to sit on his lap.

You stand there for a moment, gazing at the beautiful man, your hands behind your back. You take him in, how the bulge within his grey sweats is ever enlarging, his cock twitching as you take one step forward.

“That’s it, come here sweetheart,” Felix purrs as he pushes his hair out of his freckled face.

You’re wet, incredibly so, as your body is trained almost like Pavlov’s dog. At the stroke of seven, you become horny, the thought of cock filling you up making the feeling almost unbearable.

You arrive in front of Felix and giggle, as your cheeks flush at the sight of the blond.

“Ready sweetheart?” Felix asks, his hands reaching into his sweats to pull his cock out, giving it a few strokes as he spreads the precum that’s leaking from the tip around.

You nod as you take in his hard cock, perfect and chubby, all ready for you.

He holds it steady as you straddle his legs and bring your core to his length. Felix helps you line his cock with your entrance as you experimentally lower yourself, sighing at the stretch his tip provides.

You left your hips up before bringing them down once more, this time taking all of him. You let out a whimper at feeling full, your pussy keeping his member nice and snug within your wet walls.

You wrap your arms around Felix and nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck as he holds you close. You just sit there, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath, reveling in the comfort of being in Felix’s arms.

You relax further as his hands sneak beneath your shirt, his fingers gently trailing your back as he continues to watch the show on the tv screen.

And so it goes. You and your boyfriend have a particular arrangement with Felix, your roommate. He joined your little abode around a year ago, all sunshine and happiness, and thankful for you both taking him in.

As time went on and you three became closer, feelings of friendship turning into something a little more with each passing day. You were already dating Hyunjin, and Felix knew that, but he couldn’t let his feelings go to waste, confessing one day while at movie night.

You remember looking at Hyunjin, a smirk forming on your face at the confession. Little did Felix know that you both liked Felix too and were more than willing to open up your relationship to include him.

Felix was delighted, as the best case scenario played out. However, before he could get too excited, Hyunjin laid down some ground rules.

The first rule he imposed was you were his at the end of the day and only his, but Felix can enjoy the perks of having you close by, whatever those perks may be. He also demanded that Felix prep you and get you ready for him before he got home.

Felix readily agreed, as he got to be with you, feel you, and that was more than he had bargained for.

So here he was, “prepping” you by having you warm his cock. He loved how you felt around him, your pussy always warm and wet, your slick dripping down onto his pants, forming a constantly enlarging wet spot.

You both sat there for a while, waiting for the door to open and for Hyunjin to walk in. However, you were starting to feel needy, Felix’s cock feeling too good within you. You knew you were playing with fire, but decided to proceed, needing some type of relief as you waited for your love.

Smirking against Felix’s neck, you clenched down on his length while pressing wet kisses to his neck, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

Felix’s breath hitched for a moment before he recovered, lightly tapping your ass and gripping the flesh tight. You grinned before repeating the motion, this time feeling his cock twitch within you as he let out a low groan at the sensation. Felix gently rocked your hips over his cock, his length dragging deliciously against your walls.

You gripped his neck tighter as you breath caught, hoping he would do it again. However, Felix recovered, remembering that Hyunjin gets to have you first.

“Behave,” he said, his deep voice rumbling deep within his chest and flowing to your ears.

You let out a sigh, as you lightly nipped his skin, Felix jumping at the slight pain. You’re not sure how much longer you could wait, needing to move, to gain any type of friction to ease your aching pussy.

As you thought of moving again, the door opened and in walked Hyunjin. You watched as he dropped his bags and kicked off his shoes before walking over to the living area. He smiled at seeing the two of you, wrapped in an intimate embrace, as you warmed Felix’s cock.

“You two are adorable,” Hyunjin cooed, taking out his phone to snap a picture, wanting to add it to his ever growing collection of his two favorite people.

Hyunjin continued to gaze at you two, the blood flowing to his cock as he took in your flushed cheeks, your disheveled hair as you continued to nuzzle your head in the crook of Felix’s neck. He took in Felix, his eyes dilated and veins prominent on his hands as he gripped your ass tighter. He knew how Felix felt, your pussy too warm, wet, and just perfect.

“Ready love?” Hyunjin asked, walking closer to you.

You nodded your head, keeping your face tucked into Felix’s neck as Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your waist. You let out a moan as Hyunjin lifted you off of Felix’s cock, the sudden emptiness making your walls contract as he carried you bridle style to your bedroom.

He laid you down on the soft sheets and began stripping his clothes off, his eyes on you the whole time. You watched as his cock sprang free, as he dragged his sweats down his thick thighs, licking your lips at the sight.

“Take your shirt off love, you know the drill,” Hyunjin commanded as he stood before you in all his glory.

You shuffled to take the garment off, your tits now on display for your lover. You leaned back and fondled the flesh, watching as Hyunjin stroked his length.

“Mm spread your legs love, show me your pussy,” Hyunjin said, as he bit his plush lips.

He let out a moan as you spread your legs, your folds parting and displaying your wet entrance and puffy clit. You whimpered as you swiveled your hips, wanting to touch yourself to ease the ache. However, you didn’t dare touch what was his, wanting him to have his fill first.

“That’s it love, such a pretty pussy just for me.”

Hyunjin approached you, as he slotted himself between your legs. He leaned over you, his body hovering over yours as caged you in, his lips finding purchase against yours. He kissed you passionately as he brought his cock to your entrance, pushing the tip in with a swift motion.

You moaned loudly against his mouth as his cock speared you open, your pussy welcoming him in with no hesitation. Hyunjin smirked at your reaction as he snapped his hips into yours once, twice, as he pushed your body up against the bed with the force each thrust. He set a fast pace, as he pounded into you, his hips withdrawing until his cock was almost out of your pussy before slamming back in.

Loud moans rang through the room, as Hyunjin fucked you, so loud you’re sure Felix could hear you from the living room. However, that was part of the thrill, the thought of Felix with his cock out, his hands stroking his length, the thought of fucking you at the forefront of his mind.

You squealed as Hyunjin adjusted his hips, the new angle causing his cock to brush against your sweet spot with each thrust, the drag sending little shockwaves through your core.

You tried to say his name, but nothing came out, your mouth left wide open as Hyunjin brought you closer to your orgasm.

Hyunjin could tell you were close, as your walls clenched around him, attempting to keep him deep inside you. He listened intently as you mumbled words, the syllables barely audible as you became cock drunk, chanting that you need his cock and don’t stop.

He could never get used to your pussy, how wet you get as he fucks you, as Felix teases you as you cockwarm him every night. Your pussy was made for him, stretching perfectly to accommodate him.

“Cum in me,” you whimpered, hoping he would not pull out like he usually does.

You wanted to be filled, to have his cum stuffed within you, so much so that it leaks out and doesn’t stop.

Hyunjin was shocked at first, but quickly recovered, grinning at your words, more than happy to oblige.

“My love wants me to fill her up, breed her good hmm?” Hyunjin asked as he swiveled his hips against yours.

“Yes, baby please, breed me,” you whined as you locked your legs around his ass pulling him as close as you could.

Hyunjin sought out your lips, pressing sloppy kisses to them as he continued to grind into you, the neatly trimmed hairs rubbing against your clit with each thrust. He felt like he would go insane as your walls clamped around him, urging him to cum, your tits rubbing against his chest perfectly, adding extra stimulation to his sensitive nipples. He placed his lips right at your ear as he continued to whisper dirty words to you.

“Fuck this pussy, love. Gonna cum, breed this pussy so good that it’ll stick and make you a mommy.”

At that you let out a loud cry, the thought of carrying Hyunjin’s child causing you let go, your orgasm wrecking through your body. You clutched onto him as he continued to fuck you through your high, his pace never faltering.

You whispered in his ear, your litany of his name causing him to moan as he came, spurt after spurt of his cum painting your walls white.

You rocked your hips against his thrusts, holding him close as he finished emptying himself within you. With a shaky breath he stilled, collapsing gently on top of you.

You laid there for a while, your breathing slowly going back to normal as Hyunjin pressed lazy kisses to your neck.

“We’re not done yet love,” Hyunjin finally whispered in a sultry voice.

He got up, withdrawing his now softened cock from your core. You could feel his cum slowly seep out, the trickle forming a sticky path down your ass. Hyunjin tutted at the sight, his finger gathering his cum before stuffing it back inside of you.

“Need that to stick don’t we? Keep it in love.” Hyunjin warned as he gave you a stern look.

You nodded in agreement, as he maneuvered behind you. He brought you back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you snuggly. He pressed a kiss to your hair whispering sweet nothings as you both rested in the moment as two.

“Felix,” Hyunjin called shortly after, his arms still wrapped around you as he cradled your body.

The blond opened the door and walked in, a smile plastered on his freckled face.

“Sounds like Hyunjin took good care of you sweetheart,” Felix cooed as he got undressed. “Think you can take me too?”

You knew it was a rhetorical question as you would take his cock regardless but you answered nonetheless, wanting to please Felix.

“Give me your cock Lix,” you said, spreading your legs wide for him. Hyunjin gripped your thighs, bringing them to your chest to keep you open for him. Felix wasted no time slotting himself between your legs, his eyes trained on your swollen pussy.

“Would you look at that, you’re dripping in cum,” he teased. “Let’s just push that back in,” Felix grunted as he slid his cock into your pussy, a loud squelch echoing throughout the room as his cock pushed Hyunjin’s cum further inside you.

“You’re so wet sweetheart, take it all yeah?” Felix grunted as he slid his cock in and out in and out, your pussy letting both men know how wet you were with each thrust.

You whimpered as Felix began to pound into you, your eyes on his beautiful face. Your walls clenched at the sight of him falling apart above you, his hair falling in his face with the exertion.

You were about to reach up and grasp his face when Hyunjin let go of your legs and pinched your nipples, the jolt of pain sending waves of pleasure straight to you core.

“Ahh!” You moaned as Hyunjin toyed with your nipples, his fingers alternating between brushing against them and pinching them.

“Is Felix fucking you good love? Keep those legs open,” Hyunjin said, his voice right at your ear.

“Mm yes!” You said as you took a shaky breath.

“Love this pussy, just taking me. Look at that, sucking me right in,” Felix groaned his eyes trained on your walls stretching over his cock.

“Not gonna last long sweetheart, gonna cum, gonna give you my cum yeah?”

Hyunjin chuckled, his breath tickling your ear. “Hear that love? Gonna let Felix breed you full too?”

You were floating at his words, wanting nothing more than Felix’s cum within you.

“Lix give me your cum,” you begged as you spread your legs even wider, keeping them open just like Hyunjin instructed.

“Damn sweetheart, Hyunjin’s cum not enough for you that you need mine too? Are you our little cum dump?” Felix teased as he smirked.

You nodded quickly, little “mmms” leaving your lips.

As Hyunjin continue to play with your tits, he said in a low voice, “my little slut, gonna let Felix breed you too. Fill you up, give you his baby hmm?”

At the thought of carrying their babies, not knowing who the father was, you let out a loud whine, as you squirted, your walls contracting rhythmically around Felix’s cock.

The feel of you clamping down on him, holding him in tipped him over the edge, his cum filling your pussy, the fluid mixing with Hyunjin’s.

You whimpered as he pulled out, a gush of fluid leaking out down your ass and onto the sheets. You preened as Hyunjin whispered praises in your ear, his hands softly stroking your sides.

You watched as Felix left to go find a towel, returning shortly after leaving. He helped clean you off, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Good night sweetheart,” Felix said as he gave you a smile. He then got up and snatched his clothes, leaving to go back to his room.

“Let’s get you ready for bed. Get under the blankets love,” Hyunjin said as he helped you maneuver under the warm fabric.

He got in next to you and pulled you close. You were on the verge of sleep when Hyunjin broke the silence.

“I hope it really did stick and you’re carrying one of our babies.”

You didn’t say anything but laid there thinking about what he said. You wouldn’t be mad but actually happy at the thought as you loved both of the boys.

And that was a thought that you knew would always remain.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

[sliced-peaches]

hit it off right

Jeong Jaehyun x reader | 5.8k | friends to…?

After hearing about him for what seems like forever, you finally meet Jungwoo’s hot roommate. But it’s a lot more wholesome than anything else.

📀 now playing: say it - maggie rogers // decent - bas, amaarae // perfect places - lorde // dear to me - electric guest

a/n: seeing Jae getting drunk with YoungJi did something for me. I miss him and it’s really hard being a military wife. this is part of a larger collection coming soon, so nothing spicy. pls enjoy~

mentions of: other nct members, bff! Jungwoo, alcohol consumption, marijuana usage, light flirting, honestly tho everyone is just shy and cute and silly

A few days before the party, you’d asked Jungwoo what kind of wine his roommate liked. Since it was a celebration, you figured you should at least bring a gift.

“He told me to tell you to not bring anything.”

“How could he even know?” You whine, incredulous.

“Because I know you and your habit of balling out on people who are being celebrated.”

There’s not much you can say to that. You are known to bring a nice bottle of something that suits the taste of the one being celebrated. You love to see the joy on someone’s face when they get a tailored gift.

It’s the least you could do for someone when you notice their hard work. It feels good to appreciate someone, especially a friend like Jungwoo. It’s only natural you’d extend the perks to his roommate, right?

“You talk to your roomie about me?” You coo, poking his cheek. Setting his coffee cup down, he nods, seemingly pleased to share this piece of information with you.

“In passing. I told him you were coming, that I invited your coworker, too. I’ve gushed about her to him a few times. He just kinda smiled? Not in a weird way. Like… I don’t know. He just stared at me for a few seconds. Then he said he was happy to hear that. So-“

“Sounds like he’s in full support.”

Jungwoo smiles, bringing the cup back to his lips. Then he gives you a sly look over the rim before he speaks again.

“He also asked me about you.”

“What about me?”

“I guess I talk about you all the time, right? I told him about your art, all the art shows you’re in. I’m sure I’ve shown him a picture of you before, like from that time we went to the beach.”

“You showed your roommate my bikini photos?”

His eyes widen and he starts to immediately apologize when raise your hands to cut him off.

“Wait. Did he like them?”

“He… didn’t say much of anything if I’m being honest.”

“Oh.”

“Which doesn’t really mean anything, honestly. Sometimes he just doesn’t have anything to say.”

“…okay that’s a little better.”

It’s hard to imagine Jungwoo living with someone who doesn’t talk as much as he does.

The way you two often communicate is rapid-fire, dramatic, occasionally riffing off the other’s jokes. He likes to share his thoughts out loud and use you as a sounding board. You like to ramble about abstract art ideas and the special interest of the week.

Trying to picture your yap king living with someone who probably makes three facial expressions a year (says Jungwoo) makes you wish you could be a fly on the wall.

“How much have I told you about Jae? I know he’s always out, or at work so….”

His roommate’s name is Jaehyun. All you really know about him is that he’s close in age to Jungwoo, he used to be really competitive m, and that he has a cousin somewhere in Europe. Not much else past that.

“One time I was over you showed me a photo or two from when you guys were in high school. I’ve seen him in your stories too.”

“You said he was cute! I forgot about that.”

You recall a guy with dark hair and a cute bowl cut, wearing the same basketball jersey as Jungwoo. When you said cute, you were referring to their round faces and goofy hair cuts. The more recent pictures on Instagram were usually from an angle where you couldn’t really see his face, but he was always dressed nice from what you could tell.

“He was! Little cutie stranger man.”

There’s a beat.

“Okay, so about that. He’s was cute but now he’s, like, super handsome.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, he’s hot. Bulked up, started dressing nicer, smells good. His jawline is insane. He should actually model. I didn’t know he was going to look like that when we grew up, you know?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Damn, you ever told him all that?”

“All the time, actually. He’s so sick of me. At this point I’m just saying something that’s objectively true. You’d be lying if you thought he was ugly. So that being said-“

He whips his head towards you, you watch a plot and scheme form in his brain. His lips curl into something devilish.

“Careful not to fall in love with my roommate, yeah?”

You blink at him, two times. Three times.

“Huh?”

His words sounded like a warning, but it feels like he very much would prefer you do the opposite.

“I just feel like he’s someone you’d fall for.”

“You’ve never seen me fall for anyone. Not once since you’ve known me.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m saying… I think you guys will get along well.”

“Don’t hope too hard, but I’m sure he’s lovely.”

Sighing, Jungwoo offers you a sympathetic look. You ignore it and instead check for any emails from the art festival you’re vending at later in the month. It’s not much help, as you can still feel his eyes on you.

“I think he’d be good for you.”

“I don’t think playing matchmaker with your friends is that good of an idea,” you clipped.

Right before you met Jungwoo in senior year of college, you’d been in a relationship that ended pretty badly. You were in love, and you think he was, too. At one point at least.

But when things run their course, and you stay in them too long, they start to drain you of everything.

You’d lost a lot of time and energy trying to be pretty enough, interesting enough, desirable enough to keep the spark alive. To keep his attention. But to no avail. It was like he was just waiting for you to leave.

After a while, feeling empty and settling for whatever he could toss your way was too much to bear. It was just time to let go.

It was hard when at the end, you realized he just didn’t love you like you loved him. But was too scared himself to be honest with you about it.

Heartbreak was one thing, but grieving a relationship that wasn’t all that real was another. It took you a long time to move through that pain.

Jungwoo watched you put a lot of effort into rebuilding your personality, your self worth, your confidence. He was nothing but supportive, as were your other friends, dragging you to every show in the city, joining you at a new cafe or listening to your new ideas about art you’d been neglecting. And Jungwoo’s friends were a wonderful addition to your life, as well.

It was beyond being choosy- you’d taken yourself out of the dating game altogether, focusing on work, art, your friends. Yourself.

Now you were very careful not to let anyone in and disrupt that. It’s been a beautiful life to fall back into; you’d hate to lose it to the wrong person.

Jungwoo is nothing but understanding still, squeezing your arm instead of pushing any further.

“Well, regardless, I know you’ll get along well. Even as friends.”

You roll your eyes at him, a small smile creeping back onto your face.

“Don’t look into his eyes, though, seriously. He’s something else.”

On the trip over to Jungwoos apartment your friend tells you about her day, catching you up on some work gossip and her roommates string of interesting dates.

She laughs at how engrossed you are in her words, loving how excited you are to listen to the tea. You’re asking questions, connecting dots. The entertainment is delicious.

“I’m never on shit, so I’m living vicariously through you guys,” you sigh.

“We’re on shit tonight! I’m excited to party with Jungwoo.”

You flit your eyes over to her. “Yeah?”

“Girl, yes. He seems like a good person to party with. He’s always so bubbly and sweet when we go out for coffee, and always supportive of you so he’s good in my book.”

You wish she knew why you were smiling so big.

“He is a sweetheart, and a wonderful friend. I feel like you guys will get along well, I’m surprised we haven’t all gone out before.”

Pulling your phone out, you open your camera to check for a lipgloss reapplication when text from Jungwoo comes through.

woo-ah: 🎶 what’s ur ETA?🎵

“C-can I be honest with you?”

Immediately you lock your phone, adjusting your body to give her your full attention.

“Of course you can.”

She glances towards the driver, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth like she’s telling you a juicy secret.

“I think he’s gorgeous.” Her cute confession has you both giggling like schoolgirls in the back of the rideshare. “Don’t tell him, please!”

“Babe, your secret is safe with me.” You pinch your fingers together, pretending to zip your lips. “You wanna hear a secret?”

Her eyes widen in anticipation.

“I think he thinks you’re cute, too.”

“Shut up, no way!”

“Let’s just say I have insider info.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

you: appx 4 min 🤠

woo-ah: 🪩🕺🫶🏼

You lock arms with your friend as you lead the way into the apartment building, being here enough times to know what floor and that the right elevator is faster than the left.

She’s talking about the book her roommate just recommended her as you get to Jungwoos floor. You even ask her to send you a text, saying that she should start a bookclub as you rap your knuckles on the door.

Jungwoo opens the door, moving to hug you both and welcome you into the apartment.

“Come in, come in!”

Music is playing from a speaker, and a chorus of voices comes from the living room.

You walk ahead of Jungwoo and your friend, who are exchanging thank you’s for invitations and gifts of alcohol, and a chorus of voices welcomes you in the living room.

Doyoung and Donghyuck practically race and slide around in their socks to hug you and kiss you on the forehead and you pull them in for a haphazard group hug.

“Long time no see!” Doyoung clasps his hands together. “It’s so nice to have us all together at one time.”

“What a mom, we’re here to get shitfaced.” Donghyuck teasing Doyoung is secretly something you live for, but you pretend to defend Doyoung from him.

“Let us get a few drinks in before you start shit talking him, damn!”

The guys make sure you’re introduced to the rest of their friends, the ones you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. You’ve heard all their names in conversation, usually when talking about some social event or fun times they had back in school. It was wonderful to finally put names to faces, and they were more than happy to do the same for you.

“Jungwoo finally brought you around!” Renjun and Jaemin cheer. “We’ve been wanting to meet you for so long.”

You blush under all the affection from them.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you guys.”

“Come on, you have to try the cocktail YangYang made.”

Dragging you into the kitchen, you’re flooded by more introductions, jokes and insanely loud laughter, and it feels like you’ve been doing this for years with them already.

YangYang passes you a glass, a sliced lemon garnishing the side and all. You take one sip, then immediately take another. “Wow, this is delicious. Thank you!”

“There are three kinds of liquors in there,” he says, shooting you an apologetic look. “All light, but they told me I had to get everyone drunk, so-“

Before he can even try to apologize, stop him.

“That’s my kind of drink, then!” And you propose a toast with whoever’s in the kitchen.

The cheers begin to die down when someone walks into the kitchen.

Jungwoo has a lot of attractive friends. You knew this from the jump. He’s a model, he had model friends, friends who were in entertainment and the arts. From seeing whoever was on his Instagram story every few weeks, to getting drinks with everyone else occasionally, you’d gotten very used to being surrounded by pretty men.

Jungwoo did not prepare you well enough for Jeong Jaehyun.

“It’s our boy! Congratulations!”

The kitchen erupts into more greetings and well wishes as the man of the hour had just arrived. You sit back as everyone moves into pat him on the back, hug him or, like Donghyuck, kiss him right on the cheek.

Everyone’s voices just turn into background noise as you take him in.

He smiles the most beautiful smile you’ve ever been blessed enough to witness, and you have to force yourself to take a large sip of your drink so not to gawk at him.

Renjun and Jaemin motion for you to come closer, and you use the one solid second you have to steel your nerves as you step closer to them.

Jaemin slings his arm around you. “Jae, have you met our girl yet?”

Renjun playfully shakes his arm. “Jungwoo has been keeping her from us for eons.”

Jaehyun takes a step closer to you. He’s tall, much taller than you, so you have to tilt your head back to fully look at him.

And what a sight to see.

Jaehyun smiles again, a little shy but just for you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, smile so sincere and kind like he’s smiling at someone he’s known for years.

Extending his hand out to you, he wants to greet you properly. Shakily you place your smaller hand in his. But instead of shaking your hand, he uses both hands to gently hold it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

The baritone voice almost knocks you on your ass.

Taking take a moment to will some confidence, some chill to come through when you speak, you swallow and push your shoulders back.

“You as well, Jaehyun. It’s been a long time coming, yeah?”

It’s taking everything in you to sound normal and relaxed, unfazed by this man.

He cocks his head to the side and laughs, his nose crinkling and smile lines that resemble whiskers making themselves visible. The sight makes your head spin.

“A very long time.” He releases your hand, and you place it against the side of your glass hoping it will absorb some of the heat from the exchange. “Thank you for coming.”

With your resolve expiring in seconds, you’re so thankful for Jungwoo making his way into the kitchen. While he introduces your work friend to Jaehyun, you shuffle out the kitchen alongside Renjun and Jaemin.

You sit on the armrest of the couch, listening to them bicker over what game the party should play first, remembering how to breathe.

Jaehyun quietly settles into a chair for one close to you, tuning into the commotion. He doesn’t make a move towards you, and you’re glad even if just for a moment. Out the corner of your eye, you take him in.

Handsome isn’t the right word to use, you think. He’s dressed clean and simple, nice jeans and a white t-shirt. The side profile is something unreal, perfect chiseled features but his face still soft and welcoming. His dark hair is slightly pushed back, a few stands falling over his forehead. He leans forward to tap Jaemin on the shoulder, complimenting him on ‘how big he’s gotten’ at the gym, with the younger preening under his praise.

Just in the short time in the same room, it’s clear that Jaehyun is like a big brother. And from what Jungwoo has told you is super sweet and caring. That alone makes you want to know him more, and makes him all the more attractive.

Looking over at you, he offers you a small smile which you mirror to avoid coming off as awkward. Noticing that you are both nursing the same drink, he raises his glass towards you for a small toast.

“To you and the summer,” you offer, raising your glass as you do so.

“I can drink to that.”

You take another large swig of your drink, hoping after the third your nerves can handle more than two sentences next time.

It’s silly, you think, to be this affected by a man. An attractive one, yes. But just a man. A friend of a friend, even.

Jungwoo’s words echo in the back of your mind, that he thought you and Jaehyun would get along well. Part of you doesn’t want to prove him right, but another part of you wonders if getting along with Jaehyun wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

So you try your best to start and make conversation.

“I heard about your promotion, congratulations!”

“Ah thank you,” he says, smiling into his cup. “It’s actually more of a career change.”

“Really? What are you going to be doing?”

He takes a minute to respond, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard in the first place. Before you can repeat yourself, however, he’s speaking again.

“I’m… writing music. Singing some, too. For me and for others.” He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll be working with Taeyong a lot, in his studio.”

Eyebrows raising, you lean in a bit.

“You sing, Jaehyun?”

“Sometimes.” He takes a drink. “I write stories on artists, interview people in music. Do some editing. The company I work for was really cool about letting me try different things, I really liked working for them.”

There’s a moment where you’re not sure if he’s going to speak again, and right when you think you should ask another question he continues.

“But I always wanted to sing my own songs, produce my own work. My current line of business has its perks, a lot of connections too. So I’ve been working on my own stuff on the side.”

You didn’t peg him as someone in performance- he’s so pretty you’re surprised he isn’t a model or an actor honestly. But he doesn’t seem to be anything anyone would think at first glance.

“That’s so exciting. Especially working with friends, I like Taeyongie’s music. And ’m really happy to hear you’re able to chase after your dream.”

“Thank you, I’m excited to share.”

He looks at you through his eyelashes as he takes another drink.

So we’re both trying to numb our nerves, you thought to yourself.

“I hope I get to hear some music from you soon.”

He casts another smile your way, and that’s when you know the liquor is kicking in because it doesn’t send you reeling this time.

“I hope you do, too. Soon.”

“Shots?”

Everyone gathers around in the living room, passing small glasses around to those partaking in alcoholic festivities tonight. You pass one to Jaehyun, who holds it up against the light.

“I haven’t taken a shot in a long time.”

“I got you the good shit, Jae.” Jungwoo holds up two expensive bottles. “Whiskey? Or gin?”

“Oh shit… let’s do the gin. Sticking with lights tonight.”

He asks for your preference, and you do the same.

Jungwoo opens the bottle of gin and pours the first round of shots for the night. After he pours his own, he holds his glass up for a toast.

“I know this is, like, the fourth toast of the night but it probably won’t be the last if I’m being honest.”

Taeyong groans. “I’m betting on at least seven in total.”

“Those are rookie numbers,” YangYang yells out, the younger boys cackling and suggesting higher numbers.

“Anyway!” Jungwoo bangs the gin bottle on the coffee table. “This is the emotional one. It’s the end of the summer and I hate to see her go. But we’re moving into fall, and falling into our new lives-“

Donghyuck pretends to yawn.

“Dude shut up, it’s just Jaehyun-”

“I’m not finished!” And he taps the bottle again, your head falling against the back of the couch in silent laughter. “Thank you all for being part of another summer and thank you guys for coming to celebrate one of my closest, oldest friends.”

“Literally.”

Doyoung throws a pillow at Donghyuck and motions for Jungwoo to continue.

Jungwoo turns to Jaehyun, who’s made his way onto the couch alongside you and your friend. “I’m happy to see you make your wildest dreams come true. I can’t wait to see you become the sexy superstar you were always meant to be. Cheers!”

The room is full of cheers and then groans from knocking back shots with no chasers, but it’s a pleasant burn as it slides down your throat.

You blow a kiss at Jungwoo, wiping a fake tear from your eye. “Your speech was beautiful. Very moving.”

The next hour is filled with mini beer pong (players had to sip water instead of alcohol, many thanks to Doyoung), stories about the boys time in school or how some of them met their partners, and shared soju.

The boys complain that he’ll cheat if he plays so instead Jaehyun shares a strong bottle of peach soju, his favorite, with you and your coworker.

At first, it’s very cute to just watch Jaehyun laugh at all of his friends antics. He enjoys listening, occasionally cracking a few jokes or making funny noises. But he’s more than happy to settle back into the couch and observe.

But he’s also big on being a good host, even if he’s the one being celebrated- if he isn’t offering you another drink he’s offering to grab something from the kitchen for you. They’re small but clear gestures to make sure his couch neighbors are as comfortable as he is.

He’s laid back and quiet but attentive- it has you swooning a bit. It’s a contrast to the rest of the men in the apartment, who are also sweet but characteristically loud and rambunctious. You love it, but it’s fascinating to watch Jaehyun hum and giggle to himself rather than dominate a conversation.

After you clear the second soju bottle and Jungwoo has wedged himself between you and your friend, you think you hear Jaehyun giggle beside you.

“What’s so funny?” You laugh, setting the empty bottle down on the coffee table.

He just shrugs, cheeks beginning to flush from the alcohol. He’s pretty like this, you think.

“Are you a silly drunk, Jae?” You tease, catching the attention of Donghyuck.

“Oh man, he’s gonna start getting real silly soon.” The younger man comes to sit on the armrest closest to Jaehyun, affectionately brushing his hair off his forehead. He weakly tries to swat Donghyucks hand away.

“I’m not silly,” he tries to argue, way too cute and whiny compared to the man you met just two hours ago.

“You’re sooo silly right now,” Donghyuck laughs. “She’s going to have to take care of you soon!”

His eyebrows shoot up and he tries to sit straighter, attempting to coolly settle against the back of the couch. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m-“

“Come get some air with us!” Jaemin and Donghyuck pull him up by his arms, with little to no resistance from Jaehyun. He just rolls his eyes as they pull him to his feet.

Jaemin cheers, pushing him towards the sliding door to the deck.

Looking over his shoulder, he nods at you. “Need anything while I’m up?”

You wave him off towards the door.

“No, I’m okay. Go get some air.”

With you beaming up at him, Jaehyun swears the room has gotten a few degrees hotter. The air will do him good.

Jaehyun finds you in the kitchen later, just finishing one of the cookies someone brought. You pass one to him and he finishes it in one bite.

“How many drinks in are you?”

“Shit… I’m at about four. Not including that shot.”

“I think I’m at about the same,” he says, shuffling closer to you at the kitchen island overlooking the living room.

There’s a moment of silence that you share, watching all of his and Jungwoos friends (and yours now) fill up the apartment with laughter (and some screaming- Renjun set Mario Kart up on the tv).

Your heart swells knowing how loved Jungwoo is, as well as Jaehyun.

But then it dawns on you that you haven’t seen Jungwoo or your friend in a while. Before you can mention that to Jaehyun, he bumps his hip against yours.

The alcohol might not have been enough to turn the alarms off in your brain yet, but your body is slow to react to him essentially snuggling into your side. He’s warm, and he smells warm too. Like a vanilla candle. There’s something else you can’t place, but it’s more than pleasant.

“I have to tell you a secret.” He whispers, and it’s cute and kind of whiny.

“A secret?” You say, barely over a whisper. He nods slowly, looking into the crowd.

He can’t see shit, in all honesty.

“I may or may not be a little crossed.”

“That’s what I smell on you?”

“Shit, is it bad?” Just like that, he’s a little more self conscious than he is silly. He smells his shirt in a few different places, earning a laugh from you.

“No, you’re fine. It’s because you’re so close that I can smell it.” He sighs and laughs almost at himself. “Is that where you and the boys went?”

“Yeah. I don’t usually smoke but it’s something like a special occasion.”

“Absolutely it is. You deserve it.”

He simply hums, letting a a few seconds pass before he speaks again.

“You smoke?”

“Weed? Rarely.”

“Cigs?”

“Not once in my life.”

“Good for you, we’re all nicotine addicts in here.”

“Vape away, I could never judge.”

At that you both turn towards the other at the same time, chests inches apart.

His eyes are low from the weed, the whites tinted red. He’s looking down at you, a silly, boyish grin on his lips. You can’t help but blush under his gaze, lips curving into a grin of their own.

“Thanks for coming tonight.” His voice is soft, barely audible. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning into him, wishing to hear him a little louder.

“Of course, I had to support the homie. And play wingman.”

He tilts his head back to glance around the room , the realization hitting him then.

“Oh shit, I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Then I guess I did a good job. I barely did anything but whatever.”

He laughs, voice deep and rumbly. “You did great.”

He leans onto the counter, his arm resting closing to where your hip sits against the edge. He slowly shifts his eyes back over to you, looking over your frame. Just once, even his sluggish brain is careful not to get ahead of itself.

“I’m glad we finally got to meet.”

“I am too.” Your skin is on fire under his intense gaze. It’s not so much intense as it is just so warm, so amiable. You deflect to take some of the heat off of you, quite literally. “Jungwoo talks about you all the time.”

“Yeah? What does he say?”

That you’re so fucking handsome and I’d be stupid to lie and disagree.

“That you don’t say too much, but you’re a really good friend.”

A surprised look washed over his face, then he turns sheepish.

“He’s…… that’s sweet of him.” Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck, thinking on his next words as carefully as his crossed mind will allow him. “I’m glad you’re his friend. He needs someone like you.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone who isn’t as shy as him.”

“Haha, you think I don’t get shy?” It’s funny when you think back on how nerve wracking is was to shake his hand for the first time.

But he’s just giving you this knowing look now, a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

“If you do, you hide it well.” You could scream. Can he see right through you? “But seriously. You push him to do well.”

Jaehyun is slow to speak, but even inebriated he’s intentional. Something you’ve learned in just the past few hours about him is that it may take him a while to get his thoughts out, but it’s more than worth it to hear what he has to say.

You hang on to every pause like your life depends on it, eager to hear what comes out of his mouth next.

“Before you guys worked together, he was a lot more… reserved. And passive? Like, he’s good at everything he does. We know this. But… he never really sought recognition.”

“You’re right. But he deserves it.”

He nods while he thinks on his next words.

“Yeah. I remember in school he was just happy to pass and be included in things. Never attracted much attention to himself. Never wanted to be in the spotlight. But since working with you, he’s become proud of the work he does. His confidence has grown. He’s louder. Funnier. You pushed him a lot.”

“That’s all him, he works hard-“

“He does, you pushed him though. When he finally started modeling last year all he could do was say how thankful he was for you. How you encouraged him, helped him with headshots. Went shopping with him and made sure he felt good going into auditions. And it took off.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“He… he said that? Really?”

“He did. You’ve been a very good friend to him.”

Blinking away the tears that started to pinprick behind your eyes, you smile at Jaehyun whose own eyes are filled with mirth. Even cross faded, Jaehyun’s words were so sincere and kind.

“Are you crying?”

You sniffle, using your thumbs to collect any tears in the corner of your eyes so not to ruin your makeup.

“I was gonna but I’m okay.”

He laughs that hearty laugh again and ruffles your hair. It’s such a small gesture, but so comfortable. Domestic even. Like you’ve been friends for years. It makes your heart even fuller than it already is and if he keeps it up, it’ll burst before the end of the night.

The alcohol coursing through you is doing nothing but spread this warmth, double time. Happiness feels good coursing through you.

“Let’s get some water, yeah?” He cocks his head toward the fridge. “Doyoung brought some sparkling water.”

You begin to follow him as he takes a few steps backwards. “What flavor?”

“We have…” He starts, opening the door to the fridge. “I can barely see. Wow.”

“Move, I’ll look.”

You hip check him out of the way, and hear someone come into the kitchen behind you.

“I’m no better, but this looks like ginger peach. And calamansi.”

“Pass me a calamansi, please? You want a sparkling water, Taeyong?”

“Do you think it’s a good mixer for gin?” He asks, loud enough for someone in the living room to hear.

Then, that someone yells out: “Another round of shots?”

Laughing, you hand Jaehyun his sparkling water, and pass a ginger and peach flavored water to Taeyong. “Let’s find out, yeah?”

More cheering is heard as you shuffle back into the living room and let Doyoung pour the next round of shots.

He’s a sweetheart and pours the shots right into you and Taeyongs cans, Jaehyun sneakily placing a sealed water bottle next to your foot.

It’s well into the night, the hour a single digit when the party starts to die down.

Jungwoo is in the loveseat for one and a half, your friend snuggled into his side.

You’ve found yourself back on the couch with Jaehyuns head resting on your shoulder and one of his legs swung over Taeyongs. Miraculously, Donghyuck has found a way to lay across you all comfortably.

“I’m going to order a ride home for us soon,” your friend says through a yawn. Donghyuck is already whining, earning some light smacks from the older boys under him.

“We’re so comfy, why would you want to mess up our cuddle pile?

“I’m not cuddling, I’m being leaned on,” you tease, grinning down at Jaehyun who can barely hold his eyes open. He’s trying his best to focus on one of your faces because he sees three, but he’s not complaining.

“Hm… my bad.” He moves to sit up, but Donghyuck just nestles into him even further, and Jaehyun can’t seem to muster up enough strength to (care) knock him into the floor. “I really… I really did try.”

Jaehyun has hit peak silly hours. From little hums and cute noises to the worst dad jokes you’ve heard in a while, you understand what Donghyuck meant earlier. Jaemin and Jungwoo even got him to cutely pose for drunk selfies earlier.

Laughing through your nose, you use the hand that’s free to reach around and pat his cheek affectionately. In this state he instinctually leans into your touch, humming in approval. You have to fight the urge to squeeze his cheeks. “Jae you gonna be alright?”

“I told you she was going to have to take care of you!” At that, he and Taeyong had enough and pushed him into the floor. He lets out a squawk as his body hits the ground with a light thud. “Fuck. It’s comfier down here anyway.”

Jungwoo slowly stands up, helping your friend to her feet. “So Donghyuck is sleeping here, literally right there. No blanket. I don’t want to see you using something weird as a replacement either.”

While the boys still present start to bicker some more, Jaehyun taps your knee to get your attention.

“I’ll be okay. Just got a little carried away.”

“You’re okay. Let’s get you to bed then?”

His eyes open a little wider, mouth parting to say something. You wait.

“Are you staying over?”

“No I’m going home tonight.”

He pouts, and it almost sends you to another dimension.

“Aw don’t make that face, I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay. Good.”

You call to Taeyong, who really isn’t that much better, but he does help you get Jaehyun off the couch and down the hall to his bedroom.

You let Taeyong handle the hard part of getting him out of his jeans and under the covers, heading to the kitchen to fill a glass of water. “Jungwoo, you have any painkiller?”

“In that drawer by the stove.” He stands beside you in the kitchen. “For Jae?”

“Yeah. You want any water?”

“Nah I was good tonight. I’ll be okay.” He purses his lips. “You’re sweet for that. Taking care of him.”

“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know… exactly what I mean.” You shake your head and walk to Jaehyun’s room, entering while Taeyong exits.

“He’s decent, just whiny.”

“Thank you, I’ll just leave this for him then.”

You approach the side of the bed where he’s sprawled out, eyes barely open but you can see them following you even in the dark.

“Brought you some water. And some painkiller. Take it when you can, yeah?”

“Hm. Tell Jungwoo to give Hyuck a blanket.”

You chuckle and ruffle his hair before moving to leave.

“Have a good night, Jaehyun.”

“Hmm…”

unknown number: hey it’s jaehyun

unknown number: jungwoo gave me your number. thanks for coming yesterday. don’t be a stranger!

[gay-dorito-dust]

I see him in the back of my mind, all the time.

This fic came to me in a dream, woke up crying.

You couldn’t help but feel abandoned, left behind to deal with the onslaught of emotions all by yourself as your eyes remained firmly on where Viktor once was before the arcane consumed him whole.

The war was over but the hollow feeling within your chest only grew stronger when seeing loved ones reunite in fits of hysterical tears and bone crushing embraces, the lump in your throat got worse as the ache in your heart had something missing, someone missing that made it beat faster than normal. There was nothing Viktor left behind of his existence besides from his cane that you kept tightly clutched within your hand, mimicking the way he’d love tap the ground with it, as though you were trying to prove to no one in particular who cared that he still exists.

Silent tears seemed to flow endlessly down your cheeks as you wandered through the hallways of the Academy, and yet you felt numb, cold like you were already long dead and didn’t know it just yet as even your fingers felt cold to the touch, but you didn’t know whether that was from the biting cold wind or something else entirely. You didn’t care either as your reason for caring and for loving every aspect of life was taken away from you, taking your beating heart with him as he did and you didn’t know whether to hate him or love him even harder for giving you the best moments of your life, memories that seemed to all play out before you as you entered the now empty laboratory.

You could still hear the laughter and the scolding echo as though the walls with complex equations scrawled upon them had harboured the essence of the people who once worked diligently to the point of physical exhaustion. Your throat clenched again you delved deeper into the lab with one place in mind like you were being pulled towards it by an unseen force; Viktor’s workbench that had now upon closer inspection had a fine layer of dust settling over it, something he would’ve never let happen despite the tendency to leave his things scattered everywhere he pleased but still become cutely annoyed when he couldn’t find them.

However there seemed to be one thing that the dust refused to touch, a broach. Your brows furrowed as you looked at it confused, what was a broach doing in a place like this? It looked like it was made a while back but yet had a polish to it that made it seemed like it was made only recently. You knew Viktor didn’t wear broaches so seeing such an item on his workbench specifically was leaving you more questions then answers, questions that were soon answered when you noticed a small note underneath it, scrawled with Viktor’s usual chicken scratch writing;

‘For my dearest muse, for I will always be with you, always - Viktor.’

You clutched the cane tighter now as the pain within your chest almost made you collapse on the floor. This broach was for you. Viktor made it for you and never had the chance to give it to you, or perhaps he was waiting for the right moment to do so, but fate decided to be cruel and change the trajectory of your life for the worst; the common con when you happened to fall in love with a scientist determined to make a change. You sighed unevenly as you reach for the broach, your fingers closing over the cold metal of it while gingerly lifting it off the workbench, holding it up to your face so that you could take in the details of Viktor’s most beautiful creation.

The broach had a decent weight to it, not too light where you could easily crush it within your hand, but not too hard where it was proven difficult in your hand for prolonged periods of time. It was beautifully done as on the front of the broach was a an intricate design of a mechanical Blue Jay bird. You ran your thumb across the bird to feel the engravings that made it beneath your finger tips. The bird began to glow a vibrant blue, making you jolt a little, and the broach opened up to show it’s insides to you as a soft melody began to play from some hidden component within the broach.

The moment the first notes of the soft melody hits your ears the tears that had stilled in you moment of curiosity began to fall once more, this was the song that you had told Viktor once upon a time ago was your favourite, and so for him to make you this broach with your favourite bird on the front and your beloved song on the inside, you’ve never felt more loved by a man such as him. Yet you couldn’t run to him and kiss him senseless, not anymore, which made the broach itself a reminder that even if he was long gone you were the last thing on his mind.

‘Oh Viktor.’ Your voice came out weak as a sob broke from your lips as memories resurfaced as the melody continued its tune just for you.

…

‘Viktor!’ You burst in the lab, making him jolt as he looked over at you with what he wanted to be conveyed as annoyance but came across as a cute pout in your eyes.

‘My dear how often must I tell you not to burst in here so abruptly and without warning, what if something went wrong and you had gotten hurt.’ Viktor scolds as you merely shrug and moved over to his side to look over his shoulder, trying to see what he was working on, only for him to move it slightly away from your line of sight.

‘We’re both alive aren’t we?’ You said sarcastically and Viktor sighs as a small smile graced his lips as his amber eyes looked back at you with the warmth you always use to being greeted with. ‘You truly fear nothing my love but the next time you pull sometime like that you’re banned from entering the lab for the rest of the week.’ He says warningly as he points his wielding tool at you to emphasise his point.

You leaned over to kiss his forehead. ‘Duly noted my love but can I see what you’re working on? Or is it a secret for me to find later?’ You then ask as you once again tried to see what he was making, and once again Viktor move it away from your curious eyes, making you pout once more as you looked at him pleadingly.

Viktor sighs, your curiosity was never ending and while he would indulge you on his creations, he couldn’t do so for this one. This broach was his most ambitious project thus far and it was a project he has dedicated to you a long time ago the moment you both sat at the docks, hearing a harmonious melody within the wind as you admitted that it was your favourite.

It was that moment where Viktor decided to make something that you could keep on your being forever and thus project blue jay broach was underway. He was halfway done with it, all he had to do was finished wielding some components on the inside that would play the melody the moment the broach was opened, then he would move onto engraving the blue jay on the front as a final touch to a months long work in progress. ‘Practice your patience and you shall find out what it is soon enough my muse.’ He says softly as he kisses the back of your hand.

‘Alright keeps your secrets, I’ll find out sooner or later.’ You said as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Viktor raised a playful brow. ‘Is that a threat or a promise my muse?’ He asks.

You shrugged your shoulders. ‘Why not both.’ You said and Viktor laughs which makes you smile in response, feeling your chest warm as you looked at him, vowing to treasure this beautiful man for the rest of your life.

…

‘I know it’s not much but I wanted to make you something…I know it’s not the best but-‘

‘I love it my muse.’ Viktor starts as he takes the gift off of your hand, cradling it within his own as he looked over the amateur wielding and more so at the love and effort you’ve put into making this just for him.

You looked between him and the bird that you’ve made for him on a whim one day, wanting to repay him for loving you as he did in a way he’d recognise, even if you weren’t familiar with it you’d give it a try just to see him smile that gorgeous smile of his that made his amber eyes seem to brighten.

‘Really? You mean that?’ You asked and Viktor brushed his hand against your arm softly, stopping to hold your hand and squeeze it reassuringly.

‘Unequivocally my love. It possess a uniqueness that is undoubtedly yours and yours alone.’ He replies while pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

‘That’s a poetic way of saying that it’s made by an amateur who can barely wield shit without almost hurting themselves.’ You muttered under your breath as you rested your head against his shoulder. Viktor chuckles as he puts aside the mechanical bird on his workbench in order to hold you against him as he rests his head atop of yours.

‘If it’s any consolation it’s a well made creation for an amateur wielder.’ He says, smiling to himself when he hears you muffled groan. He wishes to stay like this forever if he could, just have you in his arms for all of eternity until that eternity fades to nothing, and it was just you two locked in the moment in the blanket of never ending darkness.

‘I hate you.’ You say.

‘I love you too my muse.’ Viktor replies as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

…

‘Viktor?’ You asked.

‘Yes my love?’ He replies, looking at you.

‘Do you think we’re together in every universe?’ You then looked at him, finding him more beautiful than any star that hung in the sky before you.

Viktor makes a face full of thought before letting his hand find yours, squeezing it as he presses a kiss to the back of it. ‘Of course my love, for what would I be without you to be my muse, my confidant and my anchor.’ His face then becomes one of seriousness as he leans so that his forehead touches yours. ‘Do you believe that we’re together in every universe?’

‘Without a doubt.’ You answered back, kissing his lips. ‘I don’t think I could live in a reality where you don’t exist my beautiful Viktor.’ You add as you started deeply into his amber eyes, watching them soften in relief as Viktor reciprocated your kiss with one of his own.

‘What a coincidence I was thinking the exact same thing my muse.’ Viktor whispers softly to you as he kisses you once more. You held the back of his head to keep him close as the stars watched you both display your love for one another in the most innocent way possible.

…

Mel wondered down the hallway but as she was about to pass the lab, she heard the soft melody coming from it and stopped to peek through the open doorway. Sat fast asleep on Viktor’s chair, body splayed uncomfortably across his dust covered workbench, was you and she couldn’t help but smile sympathetically for you, after all you had just lost the love of your life before your very eyes and with no plausible way of getting him back.

What was making the melody Mel did find as her eyes landed on the open broach within your hand, Viktor’s final gift to you as it hummed the melody for the fifth time. It was a beautiful song Mel thought to herself as she moved next to you, resting her hand over your shoulder as she heard you softly mutter in your sleep. ‘I’m sorry Viktor. I love you.’

‘I know he loves you too.’ Mel replied as she reached over and closed the broach in your hand, seeing the mechanical engraving on the cover as she did so before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wanting nothing more then let you sleep and be with Viktor in the land of dreams as she moved to walk back out the door. Mel looks back at you once more and in a moment of nostalgia overcame her she saw Viktor sleeping in that very chair instead of you. He was clutching his cane the same way you did and in that moment it looked as though your hands were touching; together intertwined in the smallest of things.

Viktor would always be with you, always.

[hoe4hotchner]

Letter opener | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader x Jack | WC: 0.7k | CW: Fluff

A/N: This was whipped up so quickly y'all won't believe it!! But I just had to get it down on paper cause I finally had the idea how to write this thought I put out weeks ago now. So please don't mind any mistakes 😅

Jack’s excited chatter echoed across the school parking lot as you pulled up to the curb. Even before you had the chance to fully stop, he was sprinting toward the car, backpack bouncing and a beaming smile on his face. You barely had time to roll down the window before he tugged the door open and hopped inside, vibrating with excitement.

“Guess what I made in the woodshop today?” he said, his voice filled with pride as he unzipped his backpack, rummaging through it.

“What did you make?” you asked, grinning at his enthusiasm.

Jack carefully pulled out a small object wrapped in tissue paper and held it out for you to see. As you unwrapped it, your heart melted at the sight of a handcrafted wooden letter opener. It was a little uneven, and the edges were slightly rough, but it was unmistakably shaped with care and love. The handle was carved with simple grooves, and Jack had even tried to smooth the blade.

“It’s for Dad!” Jack announced proudly. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Like it? He’s going to love it, Jack,” you assured him, ruffling his hair as he beamed. “It’s perfect.”

The ride home was filled with Jack’s endless excitement. He told you about how his teacher helped him cut the wood and how he worked extra hard to sand it just right. Once home, he hopped out of the car and dashed inside, already planning how to present his gift.

“We need wrapping paper,” he declared as you followed him into the kitchen. “And a card. A really good card!”

You combed through the craft drawer, pulling out colorful paper, markers, and tape. Jack picked out Hotch's favorite color for the wrapping paper and decided on a big red bow to finish it off.

Together, you worked on wrapping the letter opener, Jack concentrating hard as he folded the paper. He insisted on doing most of it himself, though he happily accepted your help when the tape refused to cooperate.

“Now the card,” he said, grabbing a piece of cardstock. “What should I write?”

“How about you tell him why you made it?” you suggested, sitting beside him.

Jack nodded, his brow furrowing and his tongue poking slightly past his lips as he wrote in large, careful letters:

Dear Dad,

I made this for you because you’re the bestest dad ever. I thought you could use it for all your work stuff. I hope you like it!

Love,

Jack

You watched him draw little hearts and stick figures at the bottom before slipping the card under the ribbon on the gift. Jack held up the finished package with a grin.

“Perfect,” you said, giving him a high-five.

When Aaron finally came home that evening, looking as tired as ever but smiling when he saw you and Jack waiting for him in the living room, Jack wasted no time.

“Dad! I have something for you!” he exclaimed, bouncing repeatedly as he handed over the carefully wrapped gift.

Aaron knelt to Jack’s level, his expression soft and curious. “For me? What’s the occasion?”

“Just because,” Jack said, his voice brimming with excitement.

Aaron opened the package carefully, his eyes widening as he pulled out the letter opener. He ran his fingers over the carved wood, his expression shifting to one of wonder.

“You made this?” he asked, looking at Jack with so much pride that it made your chest ache.

“Yep! In woodshop!” Jack said. “It’s for your letters and stuff.”

Aaron held it up to the light, admiring the details. “Jack, this is amazing. I’m going to use this every day. Thank you, buddy.”

Jack threw his arms around his dad’s neck, and Aaron hugged him tightly, the letter opener still in his hand. When they pulled back, Aaron’s gaze met yours, and his smile deepened.

“You’ve got a pretty great helper here,” he said softly.

“Don’t I know it,” you replied, your heart warm as you watched them.

Aaron placed the letter opener on the mantel, a spot of honor — where it would stay until the next morning when he would bring it to work with him — and pulled Jack into another hug. The room felt full — of love, pride, and the little joys that made all the hard days and the out of state cases worth it.

[tinybeetiny]

Night Drives: J.W

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

Im on such a Wooyoung kick… maybe because of his birthday but ffuickckkckc I need him bad fr

->Starring: Wooyoung, Afab!reader ->Genre: SMUT SMUTTY SMUT ->Taglist: @e3ellie @yoonshiiu @yunlazia @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie @atztrsr @honsans-atiny-24 If you don’t see your blog tagged I could not find it so I am so sorry 🥲 also just know I smile and kick my feet reading the responses… I love all of you 🥹 If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form ->Cw: Fingering, blowjob, road head, please be safe on the roads, two hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road please

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

Ever since Wooyoung got his license he's been wanting to drive everywhere and anywhere. The grocery store that's just a 10-minute walk? Yup he's going to drive that 3 minutes instead.

The current time is 2:30am and you are driving aimlessly around with your antsy boyfriend. You're pretty sure you're about an hour away from the apartment but neither of you seems to care not when the roads are bare and the music is calming. His hand rests comfortably on your bare thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on your soft skin. You stare out of the window distracted by the passing lights, too distracted to notice his hand sliding further up your thigh. You didn't realize until he was pulling on the hem of your shorts. You look over in his direction to see his calm demeanor as if his hand wasn't moving to brush over your clothed heat. "Woo?" you see him smirk ever so slightly "What?" his look of innocence is a huge contrast to what his fingers were doing. You have to admit the way he looks driving with one hand is definitely a turn-on. His grip on the wheel tightens when you grab his hand and grind against his fingers. You let a little sigh at the feeling but you wanted more "Do you want me to finger you or something?" You look at him with a glare "Do you have to ask that way?" You groan and he just shrugs in response "Yes I want you to finger me" You say before slipping your shorts and panties off.

The filthy sound of your wet pussy squelching fills the car but they're barely audible over your moans "You like that pretty girl? I can tell by how wet you are" You clench around his fingers at his teasing and the way he curls them has you arching off the seat "Oh fuck Woo you're gonna make cum" You breathe out as your head falls back onto the headrest "That's it baby cum all over my fingers" He says before pressing his thumb to your clit. You grip his wrist teetering on the edge of your release and with one last swipe of his thumb, you're tumbling over. The prettiest noises leave your lips as you see stars brighter than the ones in the night sky. Wooyoung's fingers continue to move in and out of you, working you through your orgasm. Your body jolts when his thumb continues to move against your clit. You whine and attempt to move his hand. "Did so good for me" He says as he slides his fingers out of you bringing them to his lips and sucking each digit clean.

You look over to see the tightness in his sweatpants and the need to have him in your mouth takes over. He looks at you with questioning eyes as you unbuckle your seatbelt (I swear if you ever do this i will throw you in timeout so fast that the image of the corner will be tattooed in your brain) and adjust yourself so that you're facing him “Do you want me to suck your dick?” You ask with the straightest face ever “HAH what?” “Do. You. Want. Me. To. Suck. You. Dick?” You emphasize each word and he nods aggressively. His head falls back when you bring hand to palm him through his sweatpants feeling how hard he is. You grab his waistband and pull them down enough for his beard thick cock to spring out, slapping his stomach. You grip the base of his cock, leaning over giving his pretty red tip a little kiss. You hear suck breath in when your finally wrap your lips around his tip.

The feeling of your plump lips moving up and down on his cock was causing him to lose focus. He makes a sudden turning causing you to fall forward a little, his tip invading your throat as you gag. “Oh fuck do that again” he moans grabbing the back of your head pushing you down on him again. He couldn’t help but buck his hips at the feeling of your throat contracting around his cock. The sound of your gaging and lewd slurping made his stomach clench as he inched his way to his release. He lets out deep groans as you bob your head faster loving the salty taste on your tongue “Fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that” his grip on your hair tightens as he shoots ribbons of cum down your throat “fuck fuck fuck oh god. Your mouth feels amazing”

You didn’t realize you had arrived back home until Wooyoung turned the car off “Get upstairs. Wanna fuck you so bad” he mumbles swinging the door open but you grab his arm before he can move “what if… we fuck in the backseat?” Without a second thought, he’s climbing over the seats.

[stonerfromlesbos]

✦ make it worse. | b.e

warnings: smut, oral, strap usage, hair pulling, tit sucking (all !r receiving), degrading, spanking, brat !reader, brat tamer !billie, mentions of safe word (not used), jealosy, billie being sweet at the end.

summary: how you should react to that? some random girl calling your girlfriend ‘mommy’ right in front of you, after weeks that billie hadn’t fucked you properly… well, maybe you ill had to tease her until you get what you want.

“baby please, i have to get ready to enter the stage in a few minutes.” billie said as you two were cuddling on the dressing room couch. your legs crossed on both sides of her waist, holding her sides tightly. “im gonna miss you so much.” you said with your usual whiny dramatic tone, making a pout face.

“is just one show… you will be watching it in your usual vip spot tho, ur already being privileged, my girl.” she says giggling and kissing your forehead softly. her fingers go up to your head, caressing your hair gently. the ‘my girl’ never failed in getting you flushed. “let me be selfish, bills.” you said with a pout face again, she just smiled gently at you. billie loved the way you wanted to be glued with her 24/7. she gave you multiple fast kisses, getting up and entering the box she was transported in.

the show was starting now, you could hear all the fans screaming and shouting at billie while she sang. her voice was almost angelic, she sang all those lines with all her heart. billie couldn’t stop herself of looking at you, no, she looked at the crowd, but at you? she boldly stared. those lines at her song ‘lunch’… she was almost singing them just for you. at many moments you cried, hearing her soft voice sing the most beautiful lines in the world.

but one in specific was your favorite, when the party is over. and it was a big moment in her show too, you felt so proud remembering that you gave her the idea of synching the vocals, she didn’t thought it was going to work because of the silence but it did. and it was fucking beautiful everytime. when she was preparing herself, she started her usual speech.

“guys.. i need you to be quiet right now.” she said and shortly after you could hear a girl screaming from the crowd, and it just made your blood boil. “yes mommy!” the girl said, clearly kidding, but after that billie started giggling. she was fuckin’ laughing at that, in front of you? it wasn’t a big deal, but, your blood just boiled, knowing that other girl called her that, and she fucking thought it was funny.

you would usually think it is funny too, but after she dragged you into a tour and almost refusing to fuck you, you were almost insane. billie didn’t want to take a night off to pay an hotel to be alone with you just because all of you were going to give the first tour break in like, 3 days. you were trying really hard to fight the urge of fucking her every single night, but this? this was too fucking much. as soon as the show ended, she leaded you towards the backstage.

“hi my angel” she said gently, holding your waist and walking with you by her side towards the dressing room. “hi billie.” you answered in an raspy tone. giving a clear hint that something wasn’t okay. “what happened?” she says closing the door behind her, looking at you with true concern. “you tell me, laughing at those fucking stupid things.” you didn’t look directly at her eyes, crossing your arms, you were acting childish, but you couldn’t help it.

“its because of that? seriously?” she said in misbelief, giggling getting closer to you, holding your waist. you still refused to stare at her, those goddam eyes, the smirk you could feel on her face, it was all to much. you took her hands out of you, going towards the other side of the room. sitting on the couch and going through your socialmedia, completely ignoring her.

“ignoring me huh?” she said standing in front of you, grabbing the phone from your hand and lowering herself to make you stare at her. her hair was messy and down now, but her black liner was still perfect. billie’s eyes just drowned you into them, it was some sort of magical power. “js showing you what you should’ve done with that girl.” you said raspy, staring at her with a nonchalant face, trying to hide how bad you wanted to make her take you right there.

“stop bein’ a fucking brat, you know damn well it was a joke.” she said with a serious tone, but you knew her. she wasn’t being serious, she wanted you to misbehave. just with that phrase you knew, she was going to fuck you tonight. “maybe i wouldn’t be if you just fucked me like you usually did, now im here, having to watch other girl call you ‘mommy’ while the ‘mommy’ here is just an lazy bitch.” you said trying so hard to not smirk, it was kind of your game… you would push her to her limits, until she was fucking you brainless.

“you’re such a slut, are you even hearing yourself right now? you can’t stand not being fucked by a week? maybe i will gift you a fucking vibrator if you need to cum that bad all the time.” she said mockingly, smirking at each word. “maybe i wouldn’t need a vibrator if my girlfriend wasn’t so incompetent, why im even dating you if you can’t make me cum properly?” you said getting up, staring at billie, getting closer trying to intimidate her. as she just grabbed your arms tightly. “i can’t make you cum? you are really sayin’ that?” she says with an smirk, you knew that you reached it, you made her mad enough.

billie’s hands were now grabbing your hair, not in a gentle way. she forced you to sit on the couch as she refused to kiss you. “gonna show u what i can do, slut.” she said almost ripping your tank top off, now staring at your exposed tits. “no bra?” she said sliding a hand underneath your skirt, and realizing that you were not wearing nothing underneath. “no underwear? desperate slut almost begging to be fucked.” she said in a low teasing voice. “stop being a fucking bitch and do it.” you said smirking and looking at her eyes, the next thing you felt was a harsh slap across your face, as billie grabbed your chin and pulled your face closer to her.

“fuckin’ behave, this is not going to end well to you, so you might as well don’t make it worse. keep this up and ill edge you all night, not letting you cum even a single fuckin’ time. understood?” she says with a even lower voice. staring deep at your eyes, you knew she was serious, because she already did that. and it was fucking hell on earth. she slapped you like thirty times just because you touched your clit. “yes..” you said giving in, in a more fearful tone.

“already tamed? weak slut, can’t stand the thought of not cumming huh?” she said mocking you, smirking as she layed down, giving her lap gentle pats. you understand the signs and go to sit on it, straddling her sides. billie’s hands quickly find their way to your skirt, lifting it up to exposed your bare ass. you try to kiss her, but she puts you away. “if you act like a slut, you get treated like one.” she says grabbing your ass tightly, feeling your soaked cunt starting to grind on her crotch. “fuckin’ stop that, sit on my face, now.” she demanded you, as you started going up. finally fitting the lower half of her face in the middle of your thighs.

“you’re dripping baby.” she said before entering your needy hole with her tongue, and after that, making her way to suck on your clit. you could feel every way she flicked her tongue on your sensitive spot. you covered your mouth with your own hands, trying not to scream in pleasure right now. it was not a fucking hotel, it was an dressing room, and you knew that all her team was on the room beside this one.

“taste s’ good, mamas.” she was fucking devouring you, like she was a starving beast. you could feel your hips grinding billie’s face as you were almost cumming. she could feel your insides tightening around her tongue, and then, she stopped. “do u really think im goin’ to let u cum this easy? after all you did?” she smirked giggling as she took your hips off her face, getting up of the couch and grabbing her bag.

that fucking bag.

billie took two straps out of the bed, one black and one red, you were used to the red one… but the black? that one was new. your eyes widened as you saw the size of it, it was fucking huge. “what do u wanna take first? huh? the black is 9 inches and the red is 7,5.” you were so fucking screwed, you were sure it wasn’t going to fit inside of you. “9 inches??? bills… i can’t take that.” you said with genuine concern.

she opened an gentle smile. “but you will.” her smile started to turn into a smirk. “ill get you prepared to it, and if it really is too much, you know what do to.” she said refearing to your safe word. you knew she wasn’t ever gonna do something to hurt you, so you trusted her. now she was unbuckling her belt and placing the red strap on her, getting closer to you again. “face down, ass up.” you obeyed her without questions, getting on the position she demanded you to.

"such a good girl." she says placing the faux cock on your folds, teasing you. you kept quiet, whimpering as you were being teased... it turned billie on, but she wanted to hear you. she harshly slapped your ass cheek. "are you behaving because you´re a good girl or a needy slut who got tired of acting up, huh?" she says chuckling, and grabbing a fistfull of your hair, pulling your head back. "don´t get cocky, you know i had to act up. or else you would keep me here insatisfait... then maybe i could write a song just like "over now".." you said giggling, mocking her, she kept quiet, but you still decided to hum the lyrics of her song.

"It's not that complicated"

"I wasn't satiated"

"You weren't that bad, just lazy"

you were so focused on humming the lyrics that you couldn´t realize that she was placing her cock right on entrance with the hand she had free. billie slammed her whole cock into you, making you unable to continue teasing her. she was rough, but she didn´t want to hurt you. after slamming her faux dick on your insides, she kept it there for long seconds, making you get used to it. after that, her pace was brutal. you could tell that she just kept quiet in that moment for you to burn yourself even more, and give her an excuse to be even rougher with you.

"never gonna tease m' like this again, mama." she almost growled as one of her hands holded on your waist as the other slapped your ass in a way that you knew that you´d be all sore. you tried your best to keep quiet, failing miserably. in a stupid attempt you shoved your head into the couch cushion, trying to muffle your moans that were coming out as almost screams of pleasure. "im gonna teach u a fuckin' lesson, cock addicted slut." you just whined, your whimperings being muffled by the cushion. "such a fucking whore, only able to behave with my cock filling you up, huh?" she mocked you, but you were unable to even form a sentence.

billie could feel your insides tightening around her, and then, she pulled it out, not letting you cum. you whined, with your legs trembling. "do you think you deserve to cum that easy huh? pathetic slut." she says as you turn yourself to lay on the couch and stare at her. she walks towards the bag again, taking the 9 inch strap from there and handing it to you. "you want to cum with wich one angel? do you think you can handle that one?" she spoke softly, with genuine concern not wanting to take it too far. "yes... i think i can bills, jus' let me be on top.. okay?" you said looking up at her with your usual sweet eyes. "whatever you want, angel." she said giggling "seems like i fucked the bratiness out of u so easily, huh?" she chuckles, taking the dildo from your hands and strapping it onto her crotch.

billie sat on the other side of the couch, because you made a mess on the other one. "come here angel." she pat her lap, as you crawled towards her, now straddling her sides. she holded you by the waist, pushing your sore body towards her. she gently caressed your cheek, pulling you into a slow and soft kiss, that just turned you on even more. you broke the kiss after she started to play with your neglegted clit, not being able to be quiet anymore. her skilled finger just played with it slowly, it felt like a torture. her half lided eyes just staring at you with a smirk on her face. she stopped, not wanting you to cum just yet... she took her strap and took your hips up, placing it on your entrance and staring at you, with both of her hands.

"whenever you´re ready, angel." she said as you took a deep breath and started to lower yourself in her cock. "so good baby, you´re doing such a good job." you managed to get half of it inside of you, taking another deep breath. "if you want to stop, just say the word, okay?" she says remembering you "i-im okay.." you say with your shaky voice, lowering yourself slowly until your cunt hits the base of it. "such a good girl, taking all of me." she says kissing your neck, and then going down to your exposed tits, sucking on it briefly as you are getting used to the size. "can i see where im at?" she asked and you nodded, allowing her. one of her hands started press a few places on your belly, until she saw the bump that were on your tummy, smiling knowing she was that deep inside of you.

you started moving yourself, riding her, it was slow. she helped you with your moviments, holding your hips and guiding you. "doing so good for me baby, so good." at this point, you were already in a fast pace, riding her cock as you got used to the size, it hit your g spot just right. your moans were increasing, so you took your hand to cover your mouth. she was staring at you, admiring how pretty you were while fucking yourself on her cock, how pretty you sounded being filled with her. "wanna hear you, mamas... don´t worry about them, you can fuckin' scream if u want to." she says grabbing your arm and putting it down, you soon took both of your hands to the sides of the couch, leaning on it to help you move, you were so fucking loud.

the room was filled with sounds, the sound of billie´s cock being shoved into your drooling cunt, of her sucking your tits, or even the wet sound of her playing with your clit... but it was clear that the loudest one was of you moaning, whining, screaming while being filled by her. "you´re so gorgeous fuckin' yourself on my cock, such a angel." your walls tightened around her faux dick as your moviments slowed down due to your now tired hips.. "i-im so close, can you help me.. bills?" you say staring at her with your tired eyes "don´t even need to ask me twice." she grabbed your hips, pulling you up, as she started to pound you in that position. she wasn´t gentle, but she didn´t hurt you. "gonna cum huh? gonna let you cum now, such a good slut." she mocked you, trying to get back to her dominant self. her pace was fast, hitting your g spot over and over again.

but she ended you in the moment that she stopped holding your hips with one hand and started to play with you clit again. in that moment you could feel your orgasm hitting you in one way you never experienced before. your whole body was trembling, as you were almost unable to moan. her pace slowed down, letting you ride through your orgasm in a way that you felt like you were on heaven. "can i pull it out already, babe?" she asked you, bringing you back to earth after pulling you onto the edge of pleasure. you nodded, as she gently took it out of you. holding on your waist gently while she pushed you closer to kiss her.

billie kissed you slowly, letting yourself rest after all she put you throught. "you know that you´re the only one, right my love?" asked you.. "i know." you answered it in a lazy tone. she quickly took her phone, texting someone. "what is it?" you ask "gonna take you to a good hotel tonight okay? gotta take care of you now, prepare yourself, gonna to spoil you all night baby.." she said in a soft tone "really huh?" you said giggling with a wicked smirk "gosh not in that way... you´re so naughty sometimes... can´t be a good girl even after i had railed you?" she says slapping your exposed ass again. "so no naughty spoil?" you said in a playfull sad tone.

"only if you can take it, my love."

taglist: @chrissv4mp @karaeilishh @iluvapplesxh @hkkuugu @bilsdillldough @n0vabug @certifiedwomenlover @dollyvuu

[silversnake888]

Astrology Observations

DISCLAIMER: i cannot guarantee these observations are absolutely correct. this post is based off of sidereal placements (but its awesome if you relate either way!)

if you're curious about your sidereal placements use cosmic insights app and/or prokerala website!

please read to the bottom because i have a bonus question ! (anyone and everyone can answer this question it is not placement specific!)

being an ashlesha rising is not fun. you get extreme reactions out of ppl especially men (which tends to be overtly sexual if you have 8th house placements). its not for the weak.

aquarius rising is the most mysterious ppl i've ever met especially if they have a debilitated moon (scorpio moon and/or jyestha moon) it's hard to figure out their emotions. its okay to talk about your feelings haha.

ever heard that gemini risings are one of the tallest ascendants? i agree! they're the tallest ppl i've met regardless of gender, and this rising reliably creates tall people. even if they're from a culture where the people tend to be short they will somehow defy norms haha. unless there is saturn aspecting their rising then they'll be taller than everyone. (ex. rupaul, margot robbie)

similarly, aquarius risings tend to be very tall but it hasnt been as reliable unlike gemini. however, if they are tall they are insanely tall.

if you want to "glow up" then use famous celebrities with your rising/moon nakshatra for inspiration. rising is best for appearance and moon is best for aura. further explanation:

rising for: makeup, clothes, hair styling etc

moon for: demeanor, how you should interact with others etc

it's even better if u find a celebrity you love with the same rising + moon as you! you'll find it easier to mimic them because this energy is inherent within you. all you need to do is follow their wisdom.

mars in taurus, talk about a temper! they can get angry super fast!

ever heard that sun and mars is best in the 6th house? i agree. these ppl are the ultimate work horses, but also, the best survivors. they will survive anything.

the most reliable house to tell if you'll have a foreign spouse (jupiter for women, venus for men) is 12th house. there is other placements which indicate this but this placement gives you 90%-99% chance you will marry a foreigner (and this will hold for multiple marriages, ex. donald trump, elon musk). The other house is the 9th house.

there is a high possibility you will share at least one placement with your parents. the placements with the highest possibility is: same moon sign with your mom, and/or the same sun sign with your dad. similarly, it's common for you to share the same rising with either parent.

Feel free to tell me if you agree/disagree with my observations!

Bonus question(s): look at your third house. 1) do you have younger siblings? 2) do you have any planets there? if so, which planets are in ur third house?

[harrysfluff]

Choices

A/n: Hello! Lol I am currently writing my applications for PhD programs and need a break. This was a draft I had and wanted to polish up for you guys. Btw i haven't written anything with angst or really a plot in a hot minute so I'm sorry for the plot.

Tw: smut (p in v, unprotected sex), angst (couple fighting)

Harry's forearms came on either side of your head as your bare bodies touched one another. Your hands snaked their way down his ass, grabbing at him in tight clenches. The bedsheets were crumpled together towards the foot of the bed leaving both of you exposed to the cold room. "I think we would make cute babies," Harry smiled down at you, pushing his hips deeper into you.

Harry had recently become obsessed with babies. He had brought it up to you a few months ago and hadn't stopped since. Harry never was doing things in order since some people would have at least waited for a ring. "I just know you my person and this is exactly what I want with you in this moment," he said each time. It slowly wore down on you, and as you started to come around to the idea. Suddenly, you were also imagining a small bundle that was a mix of both of you.

You could feel his hard self push against your clit, giving a light sensation from the bud. You let out a heavy exhale from the feeling, while your hands move upward to his back. "I think so, too. They would have your eyes." Harry buried his face into the crook of your neck, sucking against the skin gently. You threw your head back into your pillow, giving him more access. "And hopefully my sense of humor," you tease.

"Oi," Harry lifted his head back up, "What did I do? I'm just trying to make love to the woman I love." He defended.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I just love to tease you. You get all worked up!" You brought his face down to yours to share a kiss. “It’s cute,” you shared before your lips collided. You opened your mouth slightly to allow his tongue to slip through. The kiss deepened as you engulfed each other. You brought your legs up providing the perfect angle for Harry. Usually, the two participated in more foreplay. However, the feeling of him against your clit had built up a hunger for him inside of you. Taking the cue, Harry slipped himself in.

The feeling of him inside of you always made you realize just how empty you felt when he wasn't. You pulled your lips away from each other as Harry slowly rolled his hips into you. The gentle waves of him caused a growing intensity in you.

Harry's brow furrowed, "I wanna savor this." He lowered his face down again for another passionate kiss. "God, I wanna be inside you forever. Do you want me to be inside of you forever?"

"Yes," you exhaled. "Please never leave me."

It came out as a whine which always sent Harry into overdrive. He pulled away from you. The emptiness makes you shiver. Harry's hands grabbed onto your knees, spreading them. You were completely exposed to him, glistening in the light as some of you leaked onto the sheets. Harry pushed himself in again, this time with more speed and power. "Fuck. I'm going to fill you up with my cum. Wanna have my baby, don't you?" He brought the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing firm circles. The movement sent pulses through your body as your breaths became more shallow.

"Yes, please fill my tummy with you," you begged. The feeling radiated from your pussy reaching higher intensity with each thrust from him. "I wanna have your baby so bad, H."

Every time Harry hears those words from you, a primal feeling erupts. "I'm about to fill you up," he grunted. His movements are becoming increasingly faster. "Fuck," he gasped, slamming his hips into yours. "Oh Harry," you screamed out as you released over him. Harry collapsed on top of you, still staying inside of you.

He stayed there for a moment, before lifting his upper body from you. His skin was sweaty and you could see the beads of sweat on his forehead. "You said you never wanted me to leave," he smirked, slowly rolling his hips into you. “I just wanna make you sure you’re extra pregnant,” he laughed.

You giggled too, still in your post orgasm bliss. “I think I’m plenty pregnant. We haven’t left this bed all weekend and I’m full of your cum,” you said pushing him off you. Harry settled on his side, his hand being placed on your stomach. He began to trace his finger gently, his eyes stayed concentrated on it. “You know it doesn’t happen immediately, right?” You say.

“I know but this is just so perfect you know? Like this moment. I don’t know I like imagining our baby. I would take them down the street to that coffee shop. And I could get a bike!” His eyes came up to yours, beaming with excitement. “You know I’ve been thinking of getting one since I’m always renting one. I don’t know I could get one and then get one of those baby attachments so we could ride around together.” His mind rambled on, imagining himself riding around with a little one. He settled onto his back and you nestled yourself into his side. Harry’s arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you close. “Either way it will be perfect. I’m winding down so I’ll have time and you’ll take off work -“

“Wait what?” You sat up, staring confused at him. You clutched the sheets around your chest, covering them from him.

“Yeah, I was thinking you could you know take some time off.”

“I didn’t know that. When were you gonna tell me you wanted me to quit?” You asked, starting to feel the heat in your face.

“Y/n I’m not asking you to quit I just think you should step back.” He defended. “I think it’s for the best if we can be there together in the beginning. And besides, it’s not like we need to worry about money.”

“But it’s not about money. It was never about that.” Your blood started to boil as you found your thoughts. “I’ve worked so hard for this between all my school and years at this company. I’m not gonna throw it all away because I have a family. I had this job before you and I’ll have it after you.” You hastily scooted off the bed and wrapped the sheets around you to hide your body from him.

“Y/n you’re not listening to me. I’m not asking you to quit. That’s not at all what I’m saying: I’m just saying we should both take a step back from work.” He pleaded in a gentle tone.

You walked right into your closet to grab some sweats. The last thing you wanted was for Harry to see your body. “Harry not everyone can just take time off,” you reply loudly before mumbling, “Not everyone is a fucking pop star.” You walk out to the bedroom to face him. “Besides why can’t you raise the kid? You have the time.”

Harry rubbed his face harshly. This is not how he envisioned the night ending. “You know what? Don’t take the time off. It’s fine I’ll raise the kid, it’s fine. I’m sorry I said you should back off. I didn’t think.” His tone was flat across each word as he spoke. He swung his legs to the edge of the bed, grabbing his underwear off the floor. His hands fiddled with the shorts, pulling them up his legs while his eyes stayed concentrated on the floor.

“Harry it’s not about that, I'm angry that you just assumed I would take time off,” you paused, trying to read his face. His brows were furrowed together and you could see he had clenched his jaw. "Like do you think that low of my job? Like are you just another out-of-touch celebrity? God the shit I put up with because of you. Listening to you complain about clothes and albums-"

His head snapped towards you, face hardened. "What the fuck? That was fucking mean Y/N and you know it." He stood up from the bed, grabbing his pillow and tucking it under his arm. "I'm gonna sleep in the guest room tonight. I need space right now."

You sighed, the guilt beginning to wash over you. Your face fell into your hands and you contemplated your next move. Following him downstairs would probably not solve anything, but going to bed angry at each other ate away at you. Your mind flashed Harry's face as he was storming out. He was angry and didn't want to even be near you. So much had changed in less than 15 minutes. Not wanting to antagonize him further, you crawled into bed almost engulfing yourself in the thick duvet.

The alarm on your phone went off as it did each morning. Having been use to Harry reaching over to you, you felt a pain in your chest when you were reminded of last night. Normally, he would have tried to pull your closer as you struggled out his grip to start your day. However, there was no struggle as you got out of bed.

You tried to slow your morning get ready as you were scared to go downstairs but yet it seemed to go over quickly. You planned to keep your head down heading out of the kitchen on the off chance he was there, and pick something up on the way to work. It was a solid plan till you got downstairs and saw no trace of him. You were grateful till you saw his car was gone in the garage. It was odd since Harry rarely drove in London and either walked or biked. You shrugged it off, not sure you could understand him right now.

Harry didn't message you all day. Each time your phone flashed a notification, you anxiously checked it wanting to see his name. You sent him a few messages admitting fault and wanting to reconcile yet there was no response. Now you were confused since Harry usually replied.

Turning your key into the door, you imagined him sitting on the couch. Perhaps he was waiting to see you in person to try and repair things. Yet, when you entered the home was undisturbed. There was no trace of him still. You wandered into the guest room and saw the bed messily disturbed. The pillow he had taken was still there. You walked over to it to hold it close to you. Inhaling, you smelled the comforting smell.

Just as you were setting down the pillow, you heard the door open and the sound of footsteps. Coming out of the room, you saw him pushing his shoes off. "Hey," you squeaked out. "I uh just wanted to say I was sorry last night. I should not have said that and I'm sorry." You gulped hard, your hands finding ways to fidget with each other. Harry's eyes came off the ground, peering back from you. They were still cold, and his lips were still in that hard-pressed line. "Harry please say something. I don't like it when you do the silent treatment to me." "I didn't want to say something I would regret," he said.

"Okay, that's fair but I'm sorry. I want to move past this, please." You came closer to him in an effort to reach out to him. However, as you came closer, he backed away from you.

"I'm not sure I'm quite as ready. You hurt me Y/n. Sometimes you're rude to me when we argue and last night crossed a line. I provide for us, for our family, and this is what I get? I understand you have a career but I do too and just because mine is different does not give you the right to belittle it." There was a pause as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Frankly, I don't know if I want to be with you right now. " Harry finally exhaled, regaining his composure. "Look I'm just here to grab some things. I need more than just a night in the guest bedroom." He pushed past you, walking up the stairs.

You stood there shocked and almost paralyzed. It wasn't until you heard him coming back down that you wiped the tears from your face. "Yeah, erm okay. I understand." You softly whimpered, wiping another tear. "I love you, okay? And I'm really sorry." You were struggling to find the words, burying your face in your hands.

Harry looked at you, his eyes softening at the sight. He would have wrapped his arms around you but felt his arms glued to the sides. There was a part of him that was reluctant to do so. "I'm sorry, too. I hope this isn't the end. I just need some time. That's all."

You nodded, wiping the tears more as you tried to compose yourself. "Yeah, I get it." You gave him a weak smile, watching him leave.

[mayullla]

Title: His Dream Wife

Character(s): Richard (Original character / Original work)

Synopsis: He always wanted a perfect family, but life never gave him what he wanted. Instead, he was blackmailed into marrying a gold digger. But after seeing you for the first time the wife of his friend all he could think of was you. So don't mind him when he was given the option to swap his wife's consciousness with yours he took that chance immediately.

Warnings/tags: Yandere Dilf x meek reader, yandere pov, general yandere themes, body swap between reader and Yandere's wife, cheating (not done by reader), arranged, baby trapping, Yandere wants that traditional wife and lifestyle. Word count: 4.2k (Please tell me if I miss anything!)

Note: I just finished reading the webtoon "Marry My Husband," so you can probably see many small ideas taken from it in this story!

Ever since he was young, Richard had fantasies and dreams of a perfect family. He always loved the idea of someone relying on him just as much as he would on them, and someone who would love him exclusively and trust him completely. Maybe that was why he liked wolves, having been told back then that those animals would mate for life. He liked that. He wanted that. Friends were nice there is nothing wrong with that. But there is something about a family that he wanted. Maybe it was because he was jealous back then of how affectionate his grandparents were between each other, while his parents were far from that.

That was what he wanted and well maybe he started to want a little more the older he got. He wanted what his grandparents had, he wanted what the movies had… he wanted what his fantasies had. He loved the idea of a family, coming back from work to an affectionate housewife with her tummy big inside a second or third child while holding the first. The idea of kisses between each other, while his lover irrupts in giggles, playfully pushing him back telling him that he should not let the food turn cold or let the kids see them.

Someone he could spoil and give everything to while she relied on him and his money. He would work hard every day just for her and the kids, to give them the home they deserve. She would give back by cooking and cleaning the house, anybody knows that those things are hard work and everything takes time. But she would do it for the both of them, for him. 

Yet he wasn't able to attain that dream. He wasn't allowed to have it. He attracted the attention of a viel woman, who had used any and every blackmail to tie him down to her. He was a manager at a big company already quickly climbing up but also came from a rich family, he unwantedly got the attention of a woman who was greedy for money and something handsome. 

And her own manager was ripe for the picking.

She did many things but somehow he was able to avoid many of them however that could only go on for so long. She was cunning, too smart for her own good. He didn't know how she did it, it made him furious at what she did waking up in a hotel with her right beside him. He had no memories of the night yet she did when she told everyone that she had his baby a month later.

Everyone was frantic, his parents especially who cared so much about their appearance and reputation than anything else. While he hated them for the lack of love or care only forcing him to their whims to get a word above their acquaintances and rivals. The idea of him their own son mudding their name with the fact that he got someone pregnant without marriage made them furious. They wanted him to marry her immediately and he had no choice not when they held his job, reputation, and life above him not when that woman too did the same with her connections and people behind the scenes. It was idiotic that he fell into her hands like this, no matter what he did she did not let go and sank her claws deep into his skin.

Richard wanted to know if this child was his, but there was no time when everybody demanded his and that woman didn't give him a chance to check. Only to cry after the marriage that the child from miscarriage due to stress from his selfishness. Many blamed him even though he knew that she was lying this whole time but no matter what he said her crocodile tears worked far better than any explanation.

He was furious, angered by everything that happened but he wasn't allowed to do anything he wasn't allowed to break up with her. His life, everything that he worked for had turned to nothing by this woman. She could care less about love or something genuine and only cared about his money, demanding that he give her money to go shopping to buy expensive brand items and clothing while also going to parties and bars with her friends coming back home late leaving only a mess with how drunk she was.

Some days she would not come home at all and he assumed that she was with another man, as he didn't give in to her sexual demands even if they were husband and wife. At this point, the idea of touching her body even her hand disgusted him.

He thought he lost everything, he felt hopeless when he could not break up with that woman who made sure that he could not have a divorce without destroying his reputation and paying her a huge amount of cash. She was insane.

Rather than be with her he would rather drown in his work in his office. The house smelled like her strong perfume that could only make his head hurt the moment he took one whiff of it even though that woman wasn't even in the house having already left to head to the next new bar that opened up in the city.

That was his life, he genuinely thought that this was his ending, a story that didn't end so well, yet unable to change anything with knives around his neck daring him to move. But in the end, nothing is concrete, sometimes all it takes is helping an old lady who just so happens to be a fortune teller. 

Typing away at his computer late at night in his office as he looked at the time, his thoughts could not help but let his thoughts drift for a moment. Richard closed his eyes slightly burning from looking at the laptop for too long. Leaning his chair, he pulled his tie down a little as he thought about this afternoon when he helped out a poor fortune teller the old woman after picking some stuff up at the market, who looked to be in her 80s stuck outside homeless and struggling to open her shop. As she had dropped something that had rolled towards him he picked it up and gave it to the old lady. He didn't know what moved him to help her. But as a present, he had gotten a small viel.

"Thank you for your help. You are quite the hard worker." The old woman said, sitting on the chair when everything was finally set up. She looked at him with a sly smile on her face. The old woman he later realized had a way of speaking, that wasn't normal. Weird yet at the same time sharp... too sharp. “Too bad you are stuck with such a mean spirit woman. How you handle such a woman for so long now… I am impressed.” Sharp as in she knew too much than he would have liked for a stranger to know.

"Buahahaha, don't worry boy this would be the last you would ever hear from me after this." The old woman laughed at his stiff glare. He didn't know how she did it but she seemed to know a lot about his relationship with his wife and the trouble that he was in yet at the same time she had a knack for poking at his sore spots. 

Before Richard could think about calling the police she suddenly pulled out a vial inside containing a blue liquid, "You help me with my little trouble so I want to give you a little something, that could help you with your own little trouble. Besides, I couldn't resist helping someone in need.” 

“A little swap potion, let your wife and your sweetheart drink it and they will swap at the start of the next day. The lil spell would wear off in a month but if there is nothing to return to… well then that means nothing could even happen. Dont yah think so boy? Haha!” He took the vial from the lady, thinking about throwing it when she was nowhere in sight. The creepy grin didn't match her so-called kind action, but she was not finished with talking.

“You better move fast my boy, that woman will make sure you will be dead before a year. It is very easy to hide evidence with a car crash.”

After that, it was difficult to throw the thin vial. Part of him could not drop the liquid into the bin, so he stored it on his office desk, locked but with a key, along with other important documents and such.

"Richard!! Why did you not show up at the dinner party?! Do you know how much embarrassment you have caused me?" his wife screamed. He couldn't help but groan in annoyance the moment he walked through the entrance. It was too early in the morning for such screaming, but she just continued on and on: "And why are you here now?!! It is the next day!? Explain yourself!"

"I don't need to explain myself to you at all." Walking past his wife who was glaring daggers at him. The more he learned about his wife the more he realized that she was similar to his parents, cared only about reputation, and was selfish putting themselves first before anything else. Hypocrites. "I had to finish up some work so I stayed at my office. I needed to finish all the file work before the meeting." Unlike a certain someone who would come home the next day afternoon after being in someone else's arms. 

Walking into his own home, he could not recognize it... everything was thrown about and trashed everywhere. Expensive decorations on the floor and shattered. Sofa and pillows ripped letting cotton spill from them. Walls wet and dirty with glass cups, and pots of plants shattered on the floor. Looking at everything he kept his anger internally holding everything in as he continued to walk towards his office and bedroom locked with a key.

This wasn't the first time this happened, he had found out that there was no use to teaching someone who saw no reason to change her ways. He just needs to call in some cleaners, replace the things that broke and that was it.

Heading to his home office to place his bag on the table he suddenly received a text on his phone. Pulling out the device to check who it was while the woman continued to scream at him.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me you couldn't join the dinner!" It was because she wouldn't listen, no matter what. If he had told her, she would have either demanded that he come or screamed at him—first on the phone, then again when he got home. "Answer your phone when I call! Are you even listening to me?!"

He knew of the calls and messages. She had been calling non-stop and texting for an hour since he didn't come to her friends' dinner. He just didn't care to answer and left it on mute to let him focus on his work. Looking at the sender he couldn't help but sigh.

"Hey, I am talking to you!" Her shrill screaming was mind-numbing as he got his clothes unable to stand her voice and would rather change elsewhere. "RICHARD!!!"

He quickly left the house and got into his car, ignoring the high-heeled shoe that was thrown at him—missing as it landed. Starting the engine, he drove off, tuning out her shouts.

It was past midnight, and he was alone on the road. No one else was in sight. As he waited at a red light, he pulled out his phone to check a message. It was from a "friend" he had made at university, inviting him to dinner the next day. The guy had always been friendly—or at least tried to be. He had the personality of a know-it-all, and while he didn’t care for him much, it seemed the guy had once considered them friends. That was until money and popularity got to his head.

The guy knew a lot and had multiple connections and friends, he was the one who helped him find a cleaner will to keep silent about everything that happened in the house after the housemaid quit due to his wife assuming that he and the maid had done something sexual in the bedroom. The woman was crying as her hair had been pulled and her face slapped by his wife.

He also had seen the lust in that friend's eyes whenever he looked at her. Even after the guy was married for over a year he still looked at another wife with lust, it was disgusting to Richard that his friend would do such a thing but as the guy had helped him with a few of his troubles he didn't just cut him away.

The message was an invite for a double date. Having just left his house and his furious wife behind (not that he would ever take her anywhere unless absolutely forced), he tried to decline, saying that his wife was a bit "busy."

[Dude, dont worry about it and just come then.]

[Won't it be awkward for your wife?]

[It doesn't matter she would just say that it is fine either way.]

[Don't leave me here with her. You have already talked with her either way it is not a problem anymore. ]

From what he remembered it seemed that it was an arranged marriage between the two. Something that was decided by their parents for the benefit of their companies. The guy absolutely hated the fact that he was pushed into this marriage and had nothing good to say about his wife but that was a goody two shoes and boring. "She lacks the wildness that I am looking for." The guy said he was drinking in a bar one time having called him to express his frustrations after an official meeting with her. "She probably doesn't know anything except how to clean dishes.”

"I would not leave the house with a babe like yours. How do you keep everything in your pants?" The guy asked too drunk from all the alcohol to be careful with his words. "You might like my fiance a lot with your uptight attitude and lack of fun. Maybe we should switch wives later. Hey, wanna wife swap one time? It would be fun~~."

He had ignored the very obvious lust in the guy’s eyes, choosing not to address it and instead steer the conversation elsewhere. In the end, between hiccups, the guy told him he’d introduce him to his future wife and insisted that he should come to the wedding.

A few days later, with the invitation in hand, he attended the wedding. There, he saw the guy’s wife—and he was absolutely floored.

It was just a moment. A fleeting glimpse. He caught sight of her for only a second, walking toward his friend across the hall. Through the open door of the bride's room, he saw her, and he froze.

She was stunning.

He could not believe that a woman like you would become the wife of the guy. He wanted to take a step back to see you again, yet when his wife called him he was forced to start walking again not wanting to cause a scene due to her fickle pride. 

After all, he could see you again on the walkway when the wedding starts.

But he didn't want to leave either way.

Seated on the husband's side as the music stopped hinting to the guest that it was about to start soon. He watched as his friend walked the aisle, knowing but not commenting on the dirty slutish look his wife was giving to the guy looking at him up and down and waiting for you to show up.

You arrived soon after, dressed elegantly and sophisticated holding bouquets of flowers. He noticed how pretty you were, your walk and movements were elegant and soft, a far cry to his wife who walked to call the men's attention dressed a little too revealing for the formal occasion.

Would he have married a woman like you if this wench hadn’t come to destroy his life? Would he have married you if your parents and your friend’s family hadn’t forced the two of you into it? If this wasn’t some kind of mask, and this really was you, he wouldn’t have any complaints about being stuck with you. In fact, he would have demanded it—forced it, if he could. But that wasn’t how life turned out... You were not his.

The wedding soon came to an end and that was it. Legally you were tied to his friend while he was already stuck with his own problems. It wasn't fair. He just couldn't let it go as he stayed in his seat even after the end of the wedding speech as everybody started to leave to eat and dance. While his wife went to meet up with the groom he stayed where he was just thinking.

How surprised he was that he ended up meeting you so soon.

The guy had invited him to dinner a few times and he quickly understood that it was to have someone else in the group after the guy was forced by his parents to take you out a few times. But that didn't matter to him when he was finally able to talk to you, to chat with you.

When he reached the restaurant, the guy stood up after a small conversation, stating that he needed to run to the bathroom, take a call, or use some other excuse he had up his sleeve. He left the table for as long as possible only to come back near the end with maybe a lipstick on his shirt or something. And if Richard’s wife was there, the guy would start subtlety flirting with his wife, uncaring if he or his own wife was there, not that the woman herself cared.

He pitied you, as you kept on your smile even when your eyes swirled with an understanding of your place, yet at the same time, you were still so hurt. You were silent for the most part keeping to yourself.

You and he become rather close but not really, it was a kind of comradery of your situations or that was what he would like to think. Whenever you and him were left alone, rather than keep the awkward air around he would start to talk to you.

You were a little flustered at first but slowly you started to get used to talking with him. Chatting amicably as if enjoying the conversation between you and him. He also did enjoy conversing with you. No heavy topics, it wasn't business or anything to do with work but stuff like traveling, hobbies, and favorite food. The things that you would like to do if you only had the time or chance to do them. 

You weren't loud but you were delicate, gentle, and easy to fluster too. You were polite and careful with your words but also curious asking him many questions when he talks about his own stories. You would keep all your attention on him, even if he noticed you didn't seem maybe that interested in a topic or two.

There was one time he went to your apartment, an invitation from your husband who invited him and his wife. Your place was in a high-end apartment probably paid by the family, with decorations that were chic and modern but there was also a homely feeling to the place, cleaned and cared for with love, unlike his messed up house. The smell of the house was similar to that of a fragrant laundry detergent instead of strong perfume. Just for a moment, he realized that you were the one who did all this when he saw you coming out from the kitchen unwrapping the apron you were wearing.

Just for a moment you gave him an actual vision of a home, a vision of what he wanted so much and could have had yet was taken away from him. You gave him a vision of what it would be like to have a wife who cares so much. 

He could not help but crumble and fall.

He started to crave for you, the more he chatted with you the more he fell every night he fantasized about you in his arms. He wished... he craved for you so much that he thought he started having delusions that you were his. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing you clearly in the darkness.

But you just had to break everything, you just had to slam a hammer to his dreams and fantasies just like everyone else.

"I'm sorry," you said, a sorrowful smile on your lips. "I know my husband is using you to get out of our date. I apologize for taking up your time when you're so busy. Please, I’ll make sure this doesn't happen again. You don’t have to come every time he asks you to. I’m sure you’re busy too."

Why...? Why did you say that? He thought you knew that he already understood. He thought you knew that it didn’t bother him at all—especially when you both always had such enjoyable conversations. Why did you apologize? Why would you tell him to stop coming? Why were you pushing him away?

Your eyes looked at him in sorry and guilt and it clicked you were scared you were so scared that something wrong might happen. Because in the end, you were loyal, loyal to a man who didn't even love you.

It made him livid. 

Even if you thought you knew more than he did, he was the one who knew more. He knew well what your husband does on nights that he isn't home, where he goes, and what he does there. In Richard’s own house, he could hear the sounds of two people with familiar voices thinking they were alone. 

His wife and your husband.

You didn't know that, while you probably knew that he partied every day you seemed to have hope that he didn't have the audacity to lay in bed with another married woman much less the wife of his own friend. He didn't care who that guy lay with, but it made him irritated that a guy like him had you.

That appointment ended up awkward. Too awkward as both of you waited for your husband to arrive. The guy knew something was up the moment he arrived but seemed to choose not to say anything having enough tack not to right at that moment when he usually didn't.

Looking at the message again he sighed declining the invite again even when the guy tried to put up a fuss. It was just that he could not face you right now, not when you made it clear that all you felt towards him was guilt.

If only it was you... if only he had found you first if that woman didn't chain herself to him using blackmail and connections.

If he could just swap his wife with you he would have been happier... he would have the life he wished he had and he would spoil you with all his love and time. While you would wait oh so lovingly for him while cooking and cleaning while he worked to bring the money to keep you happy materially. He would be a better husband than your own and he already knew that you would be a far more better wife than his own.

But you just had to draw that line. That line of law and morality.

Watching the road as he drove, he could not help but let annoyance fester him at this whole situation till he saw a poster pass by him. Purple with a familiar design that he saw just this morning. Something to do with a certain fortune teller who knew a little too much and who gave him a small vial.

Truthfully he didn't believe in such things, but part of him had become so desperate that he just could not think straight. He was desperate and he knew that the old woman knew that and was laughing at him for it.

"Here yah go. This is a little something that would have cost a shit ton but I am gonna give it to you for free." The old woman cackled, she was having way too much fun knowing his situation. "If you plan to add this to a drink don't worry about the colour at all."

He didn't believe in such things. But there was a whisper in his mind a little spell in his brain that told him that this would work. That there was something different about that mad woman who probably lived only in entertainment.

His hand moved before he could even think about it, accepting the dinner invitation as he finally reached his office. It was supposed to be closed, but a few employees were pulling an all-nighter, so the building wasn't locked. In his mind, all he could think about was the life he once dreamed of—the life that had been taken away from him. All he wanted was a life with you, and that thing—that vial—would be the answer to all his problems.

[eicee]

Will forever be grateful for this post and your writings crab! I usually read this every know and then! Really recommend and read crabdrables blog!! Sorry for the VERY late thoughts but taking L's left and right irl lol Onto some of my personal thoughts:

Relating very much with reader's unending cycle of self-doubt and hatred that may stem from themselves and from family too.

Ain't exactly an academic achiever expect when college but please for the love of find time in social life to or you'll kind of end up with reader here. Asian things lol.

Speaking of Asian things, reader's parents love language here is more on actions and less on verbal. This alright but kinda toxic when its something one thing only. Reader craves to of validation through words too. What's one action can be interpreted as another; example

Academic validation you'll find in majority of families unfortunately something reader thought that they should do for majority of their life but their is life outside school too.

Pleasing for other people is what person's identity will get themselves killed literally and metaphorically, it shows that reader is drained from what all happened in their life.

Reader really giving it all, as they think it would be make it or break it on the military.

Sad with reader that even if they joined the 141, their feelings of doubt and emptiness is still their and not easily those feeling be swayed easily.

Reader be yearning and wanting to be part of the 141 fam yet really made them out of place at the task force at first.

Calling "kid" by the 141 pulled me some of my heart strings, reader for sure was touched by their endearment thought they are still processing what the 141 say.

Reader's mind and thoughts be really damaged, so deep in their mind that they forgot the positive interactions with the 141.

Not the reader overhearing the string of Gaz' words and reader walking away not hearing the whole convo. Gaz seeing through reader and worried mother hen.

Ghost be the terrifying lt yet softie understanding big bro here.

Soap the ever social butterfly yet respecting social boundaries for reader.

Dad!Price ain't giving up reader that early. Yearning for someone like Price wanting to understand and talk to like reader here.

Reader may not feel that they have place in 141 but they already are, they are just in denial and still on process.

Reader be shocked that Price finds them.

Price be observant due to years being in the military.

“Something on your mind?” Price asks that lead to conversation his understanding that led to Reader's opening up even when they cried earlier.

Price be knight in shining armor and Papa bear that is ready to defend anyone and especially 141 and that includes the reader. "Violence and timing." as Price known quote.

Reader be awkward on calling Price's first name and sharing what on their mind is.

Price despite reader's doubts on their place on 141 still reassures and knows that reader is in the right place. That not anyone could replace reader as they already carve into 141's hearts.

Price giving reader more credit as he sees that reader worked their ass off hard and well.

Not the joked that turned to not joked with hugging and effing Reader still protecting their parents and Price horrified with the silence and revelation.

Captain with his words about obligation and not love for sure hit Reader's head like a truck.

Price really giving the words that Reader crave and wanted to hear for their whole life, did gave them hope and made them less empty.

Papa John Price gave hug that Reader may not realized that they need it.

Reader felt seen and appreciated for who they are. Reader be stuck and with their found family as long as they can (forever).

Hiii Crab so happy to see you write outside of our rants/idea chats and my fellow delulu cod enjoyer! Would love to request Platonic!141 + Reader (sorry if this is long and somewhat confusing lol). You can do headcanons, drabble or whatever you comfy for. An idea that popped in my head kinda semi personal: Civ or 141! Reader though has parents and family is the reader is quite something else. Reader despite having somewhat normal upbringing still feel empty; they shouldn't be feeling this numb and empty deep inside of them. The reader craves the love that they give but couldn't or lack of receiving it back, though they don’t expect it or selfishly want it. Just someone who understands them even in their deepest darkest secret or flaw then boom cue the task force 141 unexpected yet welcoming to their life and maybe the one that the Reader can lean and let them be vulnerable on (finally).  

Take your time on doing this Looking for to your other writing genuinely -Cee, your fellow Soap delulu

GN!Reader & 141 (Mostly Price)

Warnings: Slight angst Ships: None. A/N: This absolutely ran away from me and I do not at all regret it, hope you enjoy, Cee!!! Words: 3549

Almost your entire life had been a cycle of self doubt that also started to churn and twist into self-hatred. You blamed yourself for the feelings. Afterall, you had a relatively normal upbringing. Two parents who were both present in your life, both of whom worked so that you all had food on the table and a roof over your head. A luxury that very few had.

The least you could do for them is follow the path that they wanted to put you on, no matter how much you didn’t want to do it. Because you loved them. 

So you excelled in your education, studying hard to try and impress your parents– to make them love you just as much as you loved them for everything that they did for you for your entire life. They wanted you to do all three sciences despite the additional workload it would add to your already stretched thin time? Then you would do them, take any extra classes after school in order to keep up with the work and not lag behind any of your peers. 

There was no such thing as a social life, either, not when you had homework and projects due. Friends were few and far between. Generally, most people left when they realised how hyper focused you were on your grades instead of social interaction. 

Did a classmate get a higher grade than you on a test? Well obviously you didn’t study hard enough, you just needed to dedicate more time to school even though school was all you had.

Did you get the highest marks in the class? Good, that was what was expected of you. Why didn’t you get full marks? You were better than that. You would do better because you loved your family. They showed it in their own way, of course, by encouraging you to study harder and get better grades. That was their love language, and yours was doing as they asked without a second thought. Because, at the end of the day, you were lucky to have an upbringing like you had. You would ignore the hollow void clawing at your chest because you had no right to feel that way– not when you had a roof over your head and parents that loved you(?).

It was when you came top of the class with full marks in a recent test, you came home with a beaming smile on your face and proudly showed the test to your parents. They took the papers from your hands, flipping through your work with critical eyes, before handing the papers back to you. 

‘Well done, we’re so proud of you.’ That was all you wanted them to say to you. That was all you needed to hear. To know that they loved you. 

‘Your penmanship is terrible.’ Was what you got instead. When you tried to point at the big 100% in green pen, you were waved away. ‘How are you expected to get a job when you write like a child? I’m surprised the teacher could even read your answers’. 

After several years of balancing a work and educational life and paving a way for a line of work that you didn’t want for parents you should have been grateful to have, you decided that enough was enough. 

No matter how hard you worked, no matter how high your marks were, they would never be proud of you. They would never return the love that you had for them until you nearly killed yourself trying. 

Spending your entire childhood, teenagehood and all of your current adulthood trying to please your parents predictably would damage one’s psyche. You had no friends, family who had never been devoted to you as you were to them, and high grades serving as the foundations to a prison-like future.

You dropped out of University. The only option forward that you saw was joining the army in the vain hope that the empty feeling inside of you would dissipate when you actually did something that you believed was more worthwhile than any University course. 

So you threw yourself into the military, working harder than all of the other recruits and training at every chance you could.

Your skills and determination became widely recognised amongst your peers. It took several years, but you eventually caught the eye of none other than Captain John Price. 

Impressed by your willpower that not many soldiers possessed, he offered you a place on the 141. 

Naturally, you agreed. You believed that being part of such a well renowned and respected team would finally beat back the lingering self doubt and emptiness that had curled itself around your heart.

It didn’t. If anything, it made it worse.

You were invited to join the 141, sure, but they had already established their own relationships between each other, had already bonded into a close knit group, and you were simply an outsider. Yes, you had been hand picked by Price himself, but that didn’t mean you were part of the team. They had their own inside jokes that they told to one another, leaving you feeling left out on most days.

And you felt… lacking around them. Ghost was stronger, Gaz was faster, Soap was smarter (he was a demolitions expert for crying out loud!), and Price was almost all of those rolled into one. They all complimented each other as a team. Meanwhile you felt like a spare tyre, a master of nothing and barely a jack of any trade. 

Despite how you felt about it all, they all called you ‘kid’. Regardless of age gaps between yourself and the rest of them, the nickname stuck mostly because you were the newbie. It came as a surprise that it wasn’t spat with vitriol as your peers before had, but it was in fact said with… an affection you couldn’t quite place.

You couldn’t ignore the hole in your chest that had been chipped at over the years, forming a gaping maw that no reassurances could really mend. 

Doubt lingered in the back of your mind, chipping away at your sanity as you prepared for the worst. How long would it take before they realised you weren’t good enough? 

You were so deep in your doubts that you didn’t realise that you had been distancing yourself even more than before until you overheard a conversation in Price’s office a few months down the line.

“-- they don’t belong on the team.” Gaz said as you passed Price’s office and your heart dropped. It was only the tailend of what he had been saying but you had gotten the gist. You wanted to stay, to listen to the conversation more and listen to what your team had to say about you, but you didn’t. What you were going to hear were likely things you had already told yourself right from the start. You keep walking on, ignoring the sting of tears burning in the corners of your eyes. The blood rushing in your ears prevented you from heating the rest of the conversation. 

“-- not only are they acting like they don’t belong on the team, but they’re acting like they’re not good enough.” Gaz continued, sighing in frustration.

“Maybe they need more time.” Ghost rumbled in reply, “Let them come out of their shell a little bit. Best not rush these things.” He was talking from experience, after all.

“Aye… maybe I can invite them out for drinks or sommat? I wouldn’t want them getting transferred before we got to know them a little more.” Soap had been the one that had tried the hardest to get close to you but had also tried to give you space so as to not suffocate you with his personality. 

“They won’t be getting transferred.” Price said with conviction, tapping his desk, “I chose them to be part of this team and this is where they’re going to stay. Let me have a word with them first.”

“Aye, sir.”

— — — — — —

You found yourself in the smoker’s shelter outside the main building. It was late enough that most of the soldiers had gone to bed or off to do their own things elsewhere so you doubted that you would be bothered for a little while. Just enough time for you to get your thoughts together. Your tears had dried in your eyes a few minutes ago, making them sting in the cold air. You didn’t need to look in your reflection to know that you probably looked like a wreck– entirely unbecoming of a soldier of your apparent status. 

You didn’t want to get transferred. Despite your distance with the 141, you didn’t hate them. Far from, actually, you held a great deal of respect for each and every one of them. It was just that you felt like you didn’t have your place amongst them. Not good enough to be associated with them. 

“Bit late to be out here in the cold, chuck.” A voice startled you out of your thoughts– one that you would recognise anywhere from the low rasp of a smoker's lungs. 

“Captain.” You croaked, wincing at the patheticness in your voice. There was a scuff of boots as Price came closer, leaning into your line of vision with a furrowed brow which only furrowed more as he took in your dishevelled appearance.

“Something on your mind?” He asked kindly, perching on the arm of the bench to give you some personal space. He left his question open, allowing you any chance to steer the conversation how you wanted to. There was no judgement for catching you at your lowest, no disgust at your red rimmed eyes— just polite understanding and a non verbal offer of pleasant company. 

“Why did you pick me, Captain?”

The question made him tilt his head, a frown beginning to tug on his features. You were worried you had insulted him.

“What brought this on, huh? Someone say something to you? Need me to have a word with them?” He straightened his back, scowling. Whilst you felt like you didn’t have a place in the 141, you could never deny the shield of protectiveness that Price held over his team. You remember in the back of your mind the day that some General who thought he was hot shit had the audacity to undermine Soap as nothing more than a ‘yappy dog’ when offered the Scot’s demolitions expertise. Price had appeared almost out of thin air and almost ripped the General a new one and things would have escalated into a fist fight had Laswell not intervened. It wasn’t as though Price didn’t think his own soldiers were capable of defending themselves, but he couldn’t care less about punishments aimed his own way over that of his Sergeants and Lieutenant. It was just a surprise that the protective streak extended over you, too, despite your distance to your teammates.

“I’ll sound stupid.” You mumbled, looking down at the ground as if expecting him to chastise you like a child. He didn’t.

“I’ve had my fair share of stupid over the years. Try me.”

“... and ungrateful.”

“I once had a guy punch me in the face two seconds after I took a bullet that would have killed him.” Price countered with a cut off chuckle once he remembered what was probably a mission long finished and cleared his throat. “C’mon, tell Captain what’s on your mind.”

And he sounded so sincere when he said it. Sounded like he genuinely wanted to hear what was going on in your head– that he was willing to waste what was already his important and limited time on someone like you. 

“Sir—”

“John.” Price corrected gently, crows feet more noticeable at the corners of his eyes scrunched up when he smiled, “We’re off duty, you don’t need to be so formal.”

“... John.” You echoed, finding that you really didn’t like saying that. It felt like calling your teacher by their first name in primary school or a classmate’s parent other than their last name. 

“Now, c’mon, tell me what’s on your mind. Might not be a therapist, but I’m better than bottling it up.” You wondered in the back of your mind how often Price did this. Sat with his soldiers and talked with them, offered them a listening ear to hear their vents and fears. You couldn’t help but feel honoured to be one of the few he willingly offered said time to. Your silence stretched on as you thought of the words to say, how to phrase what you wanted to say without sounding unappreciative of the opportunity that Price had offered you when he requested you join his team. 

“I don’t feel like I belong here.” You blurted once the silence had stretched on for long enough to border on uncomfortable. John’s face fell and you quickly realised how bad that sounded and rushed to correct yourself.

“No, no, wait, let me explain–” the Captain closed his mouth to allow you to continue speaking, but you could tell that it was hard for him. “I just… you could have anyone better than me, you know? I’m not a demolition expert. I’m… I’m not the best Sniper. I’m the slowest on the team, pretty sure I’m the weakest–”

“Nope.” Price interrupted, finally breaking the bubble of your personal space as he took a proper seat next to you on the bench but still respecting the distance enough to keep a few inches between you. “Nope, not lettin’ you say another word.”

“But–” 

“Nope.”

“Cap–”

“No.”

“But you could have anyone better—“

“But they wouldn’t be you.” He deflected easily. Far too easily. He leant back on the bench, crossing one leg over the other as he folded his arms over his chest. His fingers twitched and you could tell he was itching for a cigar but didn’t light one out of respect. 

“Alright, sure, I can ask Laswell to give me one of the best soldiers in the SAS and have them brought here tomorrow. They could be the best of the best, top of their class, better than you and maybe even better than me. But that’s a bit of a stretch.” He winked and earned a weak chuckle from you. “But they won’t be you. I don’t pick just on skill alone, kid, I pick based on how I feel people would fit into the team. I chose you because I knew that you’d be perfect.”

“As for not being a demolitions expert, let  me let you in on a little secret. I’ve no fucking clue about demolitions, either. And you don’t have to be on the team to be the ‘best Sniper’. You’re better than most, and that’s what’s important. As for being the weakest– did you or did you not bodily lift Gaz in a fireman’s carry during training the other week while he was trying to act as an injured civilian? Quite dramatically, might I add. Swooned and everything.”

You remembered that practice mission. Quite fondly, actually. Gaz was a civilian and , after being struck by a foam bullet from Soap, had dramatically screamed in agony and crumpled to the floor. When you had lifted him up and over your shoulders, the bastard continued to wail something along the lines of telling his non-existent spouse that he loved them and that his money be given to his equally non-existent children. Soap got in another shot to the man’s head, knocking off his cap in the process. Distracted as you were trying to haul your teammate out of the danger zone, you couldn’t help but laugh thinking about it now. 

“Last time I checked, Gaz is somewhat heavier than a sack of flour. Don’t tell him I said that, I’ll hurt his feelings.” Price was right, you supposed. You were more than capable of carrying Gaz over your shoulders, maybe even Soap or Price himself if the time called for it. Ghost you weren’t so sure about, though. The man was a walking mountain. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you have to give yourself more credit. You’re more than good enough to be on my team. I chose you for a reason.”

You… did not expect that sort of reassurance from Price. You had hoped for something along those lines, yes, but perhaps with a thrown in criticism or three. You waited for a ‘but’ that never came. The man snorted beside you and when you gave him a quizzical look, he waved off your concern.

“Shit, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the next thing out of your mouth would be that your parents never hugged you as a kid.”

Your silence made him slowly turn his head towards you. It would have almost been comical if the situation wasn’t. His face crumbled and a wounded sound emerged from his throat.

“Sometimes they did!” You rushed to defend the people that raised you. “And they gave me food and shelter, clothes when I needed them–”

“Fucking hell. No, that’s what they’re supposed to do because they’re your parents. What about telling you that they were proud of you? That they loved you? I saw your records. Top of your class in not just your training but in your education, too. Triple sciences, mathematics, all of it. They had to be proud of you for that? My parents would have killed for me to get even a passing grade in my GCSEs.” You looked down at the ground and it was Price’s turn to have his eyes fixed on you. 

“They were proud of you, weren’t they?” He asked again, leaning forwards so he could catch your eye, his own filled with concern. “Kid?”

“I don’t talk to them much anymore.” 

Price inhaled sharply and he leaned back again, looking around and clenching his jaw as if fighting back his anger. His fingers twitched again. You admired his self control as he was still yet to grab a cigar that you knew he kept on his person. Usually in his breast pocket while his lighter was in his right pocket.

“Listen to me.” The Captain said, a more stern edge to his voice now that he had gathered his thoughts together. “Whatever your family said to you— how they treated you? Forget it. They showed you obligation. Not love. They didn’t want what was ‘best’ for you, they wanted bragging rights. What you’ve achieved– here, in bootcamp, in university and in school, is something to take pride in– no, no, look at me.”

Your gaze had trailed to the side so you avoided looking at your Captain in the eyes. He noticed and clicked his fingers to gain your attention back on him.

“Don’t look away from me because I want you to listen to what I’m gonna say and I want you to look at my face as I say it.” Your eyes met his blue ones, “You should be proud of everything that you’ve achieved in your life. I’m sorry that your family never told you that and I’m sorry that I haven’t said that enough to you since you joined 141.”

You opened your mouth to say something– to argue or disagree but he shook his head.

“No. It’s my turn to speak now. I’m proud of you. I am so proud of you. Everything you’ve done and everything that you’re yet to do, I will always be proud of you. You’re an exemplary soldier and I knew the moment I saw you that you would be a perfect addition to the 141 and you have proved me right time and time again. You belong on this team just as much as the rest of the boys. Do you understand?”

So many words– proud, proud, proud. That’s all you had wanted to hear for so many years from someone whose opinion mattered to you. You wanted to be seen and Price, this godsend of a man, had seen you and more.

“Kid, do you understand me?”

You nodded once and then realised that Price wouldn’t have been able to tell through your shaking. Tears blurred in the corners of your eyes and you nodded again, not trusting your voice in case it shattered. 

“What do you need from me?” Price’s voice was oh so soft, like he was talking to a frightened fawn. He could see how much his words had affected you and it clearly broke his own heart.

“A hug.” Your bottom lip wobbled and his face softened as he opened his arms, twitching his fingers to urge you closer.

“I can do that.” 

You leaned into him and he quickly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in close. You could smell the lingering scent of his last cigar. The smell of his office and cleaning oil. You felt his chin on the top of your head and felt how his chest rumbled as he spoke.

“You’re part of the 141 whether you like it or not, alright? Me and the boys want you here for as long as you want to be.”

At that moment, for the first time in your life. You felt wanted. You felt appreciated and you felt seen.

have a request? send one in!

[therealcocoshady]

Hii

I lost my puppy recently, can you please write one where the reader is a bit depressed and Marshall gives her a puppy?

A/N : Hi Anon ! I’m so sorry about you losing your puppy ! I’m sending you tons of love 💕. I wrote a little something and I hope you like it !

Finding purpose 🐶

« I dont know, » you’d said in that monotone voice of yours. « I just feel like… there’s no purpose. I have no purpose ».

After weeks of beating around the bush, Marshall had finally confronted you, and your answer broke his heart. You were the most vibrant person he had ever met, so full of life and laughter. But in the past few months, he had seen you decaying. Your laugh, once his favorite sound, seemed like a distant memory and he couldn’t tell the last time he’d seen you actually smile, no matter how hard he tried. You had become withdrawn, distant. Sometimes, he would at you and he could see stare into the abyss, as if your mind was miles away. But every time he would ask what’s on your mind, you would shrug it off.

His first instinct was to blame himself. Maybe he’d taken you for granted. It wouldn’t be the first time after all. He was never really good at keeping his longtime girlfriends entertained, his workaholic nature often taking over. But his best efforts to win you over with impromptu date nights and presents seemed to be in vain. Then, he tried asking your friends, but no one seemed to know what was going on. As far as they knew, nothing had happened. You were doing ok at work. Your family was fine. And as far as they knew, you didn’t have beef with anyone. So it was kind of a mystery. But still, the facts were there : you kept on withdrawing, keeping people at a distance. You were once the life of the party, but you barely went out anymore. Even keeping up with your text messages proved to be difficult. Yet, everyone was getting increasingly worried. They could see the dim smiles, the dark circles, the weight fluctuation… They all tried to be subtle about it, not wanting to be insensitive or too harsh. Until Marshall decided enough was enough.

You had ghosted him for three days. No phone, no text. Nothing. When he showed up at your place, he was immediately taken aback by your gaunt face and hollow eyes. You weren’t alright and he was done being subtle about it. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees. You looked up as he let himself in, your eyes dull and tired. « Thank God I have your spare key » he sighed. « Otherwise, I would have called the cops to report you were missing ». You looked down, mumbling an apology. « We gotta talk » he declared in a voice that was a little sharper than he intended. You turned your head back to him, hough your eyes remained dull and distant. « About what? » you asked. He sighed and sat in the chair across you. « About you » he said. « About whatever’s been eating you alive for the past weeks. I’m tired of pretending like everything’s fine. You think I don’t notice ? You think I don’t see how different you’re acting ? »

Your jaw tightened and you looked away. « I’m fine, Marshall » you mumbled, though even you could tell how unconvincing you sounded. « Stop! » he snapped, his frustration evident. « You’re not fine. You’ve barely said more than five words to me in a day for the past three weeks! You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. You don’t smile. And I’m sick and tired of pretending like everything’s ok when it’s clearly not ». His voice was getting louder and louder, his tone sharp and cutthroat. You couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes and, for a second, you were pretty sure you were going to lash out at him. But instead, your face crumpled and you let out a shaky breath. « I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Marshall » you whispered, your voice cracking. « I don’t know. I just feel like… There’s no purpose. I have no purpose. Like nothing I do matters. I wake up, and I don’t see the point of getting up. No purpose ».

Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He stood up and crossed the room in a few quick strides, taking a seat on the couch, right next to you. You tried to turn away but he gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. « Listen to me » he said, his voice low but steady. « You do have a purpose. You do matter. You matter to me. I don’t care what’s gong on in that beautiful head of yours, I’m not letting you drown in it. We’ll figure this out together. But you need to let me in and tell me how you’re feeling, babe ». You nodded, letting your tears spill over. « I don’t even know where to start » you quietly sobbed.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to anger in his embrace, instead of pushing him away after a couple of seconds. He held you against his chest, gently stroking your hair as you sobbed, letting out the storm that had been going on inside your mind, that was too much for you to put into words. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, Marshall never letting go of you, whispering sweet words of reassurance. « We just start here, Y/N. You and me. You’re not alone. I’m here. ». Eventually, exhaustion took over and you fell asleep, your head resting against his chest, your breath uneven but steady. But Marshall couldn’t follow suit. Your words kept on echoing in his mind. The way you said you don’t see the point of getting up, that you had no purpose… You had said it with such emptiness, like the thought had been carved into your very soul. He could see the pain, the suffering in your eyes. He could hear it in your voice. And he wished he could take it away, suffer in your place. All he wanted was to make you happy. You were the love of his life, a beautiful soul, and you deserved nothing but happiness. And he couldn’t sleep until he found a way to give it to you. Sadly, words wouldn’t do. He needed something more. Something real, tangible. Something that would bring back the light in your eyes.

And then, like a lightbulb flickering in the darkness, he had an idea.

The next day, your boyfriend found himself standing in the middle of an animal shelter. To say he was feeling out of his element would be the understatement of the year. He’d had a few pets in his day, but he had sworn off them a long time ago, arguing that they required too much work, too much energy. But maybe it was exactly what you needed. Something that would require work and energy, that would give you a reason to get out of bed. The sound of barking and meowing filled the air as he walked past rows pf cages. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but he knew he’d recognize it when he saw it. And he did. There was a small dog waddling inside one of the kennels, its stubbly legs moving unevenly. He had a misshapen ear that flopped to one side, a patchy coat that looked like it has seen better days and a back leg that didn’t quite work right. It wasn’t conventionally cute but it had the kind of charm that he knew would tug at your heart. He’d seen you at the market, picking up bruised apples and misshapen tomatoes, sad that nobody else would want them. He saw you pour your heart not the smallest things, believing they deserved love too. Hell, you had taken him in, of all people. That had to be the ultimate sign you didn’t mind things - or people - being a little broken.

He pointed the dog to the staff member that was with him. « That’s Ralph. This little guy came in a few months ago » she explained. « He’s got some mobility issues and… well, he’s not the first one people ask about but he’s a good one. Loves cuddles and, despite the leg thing, walks, too ». Marshall crouched down, holding his hand out. Ralph sniffed it tentatively, then licked his fingers before flopping over on its side, demanding belly rubs. Marshall laughed and indulged him. He could already picture you with him. « This is the one » he said with a smile.

When he got to your place, Ralph waddled awkwardly behind him, its tiny legs working double-time to keep up. He’d picked up a few essentials - a bed, food, a leash, a couple of toys - but he knew the dog wouldn’t need much to win you over. You were in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders. You looked up as Marshall walked in, your eyes tired but curious. « What’s going on? » you asked, your voice soft. Instead of answering, your boyfriend stepped aside, revealing the little dog, who waddled into view, its mismatched body moving with clumsy determination. You let out a gasp, sitting up straight as the dog barked once, a cheerful and awkward sound that definitely matched his appearance. « Marshall…? What…? » you whispered, hands flying to your mouth.

« I heard what you said, » he told you, his voice steady but gentle. « About not having a reason to get up in the morning. And I figured maybe this little guy could help with that. » He gestured to Ralph, who was now sniffing the corner of the coffee table. « He’s not perfect. He’s got a bum leg and kind of a funky look, but… I thought maybe you’d see him the way you see those lopsided peaches at the market. The ones you always say deserve love, even if no one else thinks so. » Tears filled your eyes, spilling over as you slid off the couch to kneel on the floor. The dog trotted over to you, tail wagging furiously, and licked at your hands. You laughed through your tears, scooping the little guy into your lap and cradling him like he was the most precious thing in the world.« He’s perfect, » you whispered, your voice trembling. « Absolutely perfect. » Marshall knelt beside you, watching as you showered your new friend with affection. « He’s yours, » he said. « And he’s gonna need you. You’ll have to help him get around sometimes, maybe even carry him when he’s having a rough day. But I thought… I thought you could take care of each other. »

You looked up at him, eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something that had been missing for too long. Hope. « Thank you, » you said, your voice thick with emotion. « I… I don’t even know what to say. » He gave you a smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. « You don’t have to say anything. Just get up tomorrow morning and love him. That’s it ».

[lazy-gyu]

TAGS: NSFW , SUBMISSIVE TOP READER , GENTLE DOMINANT BOTTOM YANDERE , MALEWIFE YANDERE , OFFICE WORKER READER , SENSITIVE READER , BEEFY YANDERE , MDNI

♡ Malewife Yandere always greets you with a gentle smile. His hands held you so gently that you almost fell asleep in his embrace. His perfect husband working hard to feed and spoil him..he's so grateful to be your wife! his plump lips not forgetting to give you a sweet kiss on the cheek or a needy sloppy kiss just to let you know how much he missed you.

"Welcome home, my love."

"You’re finally back where you belong."

♡ Malewife Yandere could never be mad at you. He would constantly praise you when you do good things and gently scold you when you do bad things. He also hates seeing you teared up and crying because you messed up something.

"I'm so proud of you for trying, my darling. Let's fix this together, okay?"

♡ malewife yandere loves giving you his attention. It doesn't matter what he's doing, if you come to him and ask him for a kiss, he would gladly give you some. his hands would touch your weak spots when he claim your lips.

"Come here, you sweet little thing. Asking so sweetly… how could I ever deny you?"

♡ malewife yandere loves to hug you and bury your face on his big tits while you look up to him with your puppy eyes. Your arms wrapped around his waist with gentle possessiveness. He giggled at your actions, petting your head softly.

"It’s okay, my love. You can stay like this as long as you want. I don’t mind being your favorite thing in the world."

♡ malewife yandere who let's you do what you want with him when you're needy. His shirt discarded as you latched your mouth on his fat nipples. Sucking hungrily while grinding your clothed cock on his thighs. His eyes are fixated on the tv while he watches a movie. His breath hitches whenever you tug his sensitive nipples.

"ah..my love.. don't get too rough, okay?"

♡ malewife yandere who tolerates you being a naughty boy for him. His body pinned on the couch with his thick thighs open with vulnerability. Your mouth is eating his fat pussy out like a starved man. His teeth biting his lower lip while he looked down on your kneeling form. his heart pounding loudly on his chest as he admired you. His sweet and innocent looking boy is so desperate for him...

"you're..ah~..doing such a..uh~ great job for me..~"

♡ malewife yandere who loves kissing you lovingly even after you just ate him out, praising you, calling you a good boy for pleasing him. His arms around your neck while your fingers stretch his sensitive pussy. Your face heating up as you sink your cock on his pink, fat pussy, your cum filled balls resting on his ass. Your hazy eyes looking at his bouncing tits while you impale his slicked heat with your cock. He can feel how tired you're getting so he switched positions with you and rode your cock like a bitch in heat. Him smothering your face with his tits while your eyes rolled back.. pleasure consuming your mind. Your hands are shaking and grabbing his ass trying to make him slow down but you can't form a single word because of the pleasure.

"You’ve been so good lately, haven’t you?"

"But I think you can do even better for me, can’t you? I want you to behave, to be a good boy… just for me."

"You’re mine to look after, and I know you want to make me proud, don’t you?"

"You’ll listen to me, won’t you?"

"Be a good boy and cum in my pussy."