#if there are any little girls in your life

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[sidemari]

• "Themed Phrases" - 18+ Scenarios Collection •

Important note: I had to repost this work because Tumblr's algorithm censored my previous post. Forgive me for any mistakes, English isn't my native language.

About the game: Both characters' names and themed phrases are in alphabetical/numerical order to facilitate your life as you read this work. Thanks for spending some time on here <3

Pairings: Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Venti, Xiao and Zhongli [separately] x Fem!Reader

Word count: 7,5K+ words.

Childe's Scenario

28. “Is this too fast for you?”

36. “You don’t need to be shy, my love”

42. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle”

TW: Alcohol consumption. 

After some glasses of wine, kisses were not enough: both of you needed something more efficient than that to bring relief to your desires. 

"I'm feeling... I'm feeling weird" You mumbled against his neck, breathing in his cologne. 

"I know you're. It's easy to notice you're excited" His breath hit your ear. "Or should I admit you're horny?" 

"Ajax... Stop with your teasing for once" 

You felt a kiss against your collarbone that made you shiver, despite the warmth the candles in the bedroom provided. 

"It was your idea to drink, in the first place. You know I get... Like this" You muttered. 

“You don’t need to be shy, my love” He pulled you to a quick kiss, right before smiling devilishly. "You know I'm around to help you" 

And then in the middle of confusion, the reason you both were commemorating. 

"It's our anniversary..." You unbuttoned the first button of your coat. "I may have something else for you" 

His gaze became piercing, almost cornering you when you showed him your lingerie. 

"Lacy?" He grinned. "You're such a sly girl, uh?" If the fabric of your coat wasn't thick enough, it would have torn. 

Your breasts were now fully exposed, as they looked perfectly sculpted in the cup of the bra you were using. 

You finished undressing and that was when he guided you to your bed.

Your heart was racing inside your chest when he took off his gloves.

"Can I?" He asked for consent while his fingers caressed your hips. 

"Yes... Yes, please" 

His tongue felt warm. 

Your body shivered under his ministrations. 

Sucking your clit right before swirling his tongue around your bundle of nerves was enough to have you whimpering. 

"Ajax- F-Fuck..." Your hands pulled his ginger hair weakly, pressing his face against your intimacy even more, to the point that the words he tried to say were all muffled, because wet and slurping sounds fulfilled the bedroom as Tartaglia prepared you to receive him. 

“Is this too fast for you?” He muttered when he broke the contact to breathe.

“Please… Fuck me already” The fatui only smiled, quickly taking off his clothes in order to get freedom to move properly. 

“Lift your hips for me and put your legs on my shoulders” 

“Ajax…?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle” 

His thrusts were steady and initially slow. 

"It's a shame you're now only wearing your bra. That set was pretty hot on you" 

A fast pace was settled and you  could barely move much or handle all the stimulation. 

"You know how I feel when you're all obedient and devoted to me, right, darling?" A hard thrust of his almost reached your cervix, making you whimper and squirm. 

"A-Ajax..." 

"Shush… We're both almost there" 

Your bodies reached the limit some minutes after that, having you both completely surrendered to each other during the rest of the night.

Diluc's Scenario 

1. "I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to" 

2. "Friends don’t do this kind of shit" 

36. “You don’t need to be shy, my love”

43. “I’m going to fucking wreck you” 

49. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

52. “I'm not done with you yet”  

The crystal glass containing an untouched wine was now a fidget on Diluc's hand. 

"Tsk, who am I fooling? I despise this shit" 

He sounded bitter, almost raged when he abandoned the glass above the table, getting up from his seat at the Winery Salon to walk towards you. 

"I'm sorry I have to talk to her right now, Kaeya. Perhaps you can talk finishing your conversation after I'm done with her" 

"Diluc...?" You asked confused, as he guided you upstairs with a tight grip on your wrist. "I'm not... I'm not done talking to him"

"Save it" The man hissed. "I'm losing my patience with you, and you're aware of that" 

"Diluc... What have I even done this time?"

"You're mine, (Name). You're mine and mine alone. Still, you can't bring yourself to stop seeking attention from other guys, uh? Especially from Kaeya, that..." He didn't finish his line, he simply locked the door behind him, sighing in frustration. 

"This is... This is stupid" You said quietly. "You were the one who was disinterested in me. You said it would only bring confusion to the both of us. I guess you were right, afterall"

"What are you even talking about?" 

"Don't you remember? You were the one who said 'Friends don’t do this kind of shit', Diluc" You said firmly. "Our relationship doesn't mean much more than being friends with benefits for you, right?" 

"You know I didn't mean that phrase in that way, (Name). You're everything I could ever ask for... That's why my blood was boiling with jealousy of seeing you so close to Kaeya" 

"So it was all about jealousy...?" 

"Is it so astonishing having me confessing something like that?" He took off his gloves slowly, guiding you to his bed with his steps. 

"Diluc... He's probably still downstairs..." 

"It's even better if he listens to anything" A soft chuckle left his lips. "Now strip of those clothes, because I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to"

The only thing you remembered the next morning was how that single time felt so special and different from any other nights you shared together. 

"That's my good girl... Look how wet you're with so little stimulation... Perhaps you were close to Kaeya only to make me riled up, uh?" 

You didn't answer him, you only squirmed when his slim fingers brushed against the most sensitive spot of yours. 

"You wanted to get me jealous so I could fuck you hard enough to remember you that you're mine alone?" He chuckled softly. "And I must admit it worked pretty well, dear" 

Diluc said before his tongue started exploring your sex, with his fingers still there. He had the habit of collecting some of your essence with the tips of his tongue before swallowing all of it. 

"I can never understand why do you taste so freaking addictive on my tongue" 

Your hands shakily pulled his red hair softly, not making him feel pain, but pleasure as he savored your heat. 

"Diluc..." His name was nothing more than a mewl that left your lips. 

"Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

He was right, were you needy for him. 

But you didn't answer him. 

"Say you want me to fuck you senselessly against this mattress, my lovely" 

Still no answer, only moans leaving your lips as his fingers kept stimulating you. 

"My lovely?" His movements stopped abruptly. "Answer me" Diluc slapped your thigh, gaining a louder moan from you. 

"Fuck me, please... I need you filling me up completely... I need to feel you inside of me right now..." You obeyed him. 

"I’m going to fucking wreck you” 

And so he did. 

It was the first time Diluc was rough with you during sex. 

He was fucking you raw on that bed. 

"You know what you signed up for, (Name)" He said between the hard thrusts of his hips. "You know how much I despise feeling jealousy. It's only fair that I'm the responsible one to teach my little girl a lesson, uh?" 

You simply nodded continually, not being able to say much when your body was being pressed against the silk bed sheets while Diluc ravished your body. 

The belly bulge his length formed every time he bottomed out inside you made him arrogant about it.

"Do you see how much our bodies match? You were hand-made just for me to fuck you this good, baby..." His hand gripped your chin, lifting it up for you to watch him closely.

"You're perfect... The most precious thing I have" His hips thrusted against yours roughly enough to leave you sore the next day. 

"Diluc..." Fuck, he knew you so well that he could almost read your mind thinking about how close you were. 

"Cum with me, doll... Let me feel you squeezing me as I fill you up with my seed" 

Your nails sank against the skin of his back while your legs kept him inside of you even after your high. 

"Look at you... All marked up as mine, uh?" 

Sleepiness followed your orgasm, but you could feel Diluc getting ready once again inside your heat. 

"D-Diluc...?" You asked quietly, almost shy about what would happen next. 

"You don’t need to be shy, my love” That only made your cheeks glow red even more. “Even if you’re worn out, I'm not done with you yet”

Kaeya's Scenarios

Scenario 1

5. “I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-” 

9. “Bite me”

15. “Now take a deep breath…”

17. “Don't pull out”

28. “Is this too fast for you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive here”

30. “That feels good, baby?” 

31. “You want me to claim you, don’t you?” 

32. “Make love to me, please”

49. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

50. “I’ve been thinking about you all day” 

54. “I just want to make you feel good”

55. “I may or may not have left some…. Marks” 

TW: Omegaverse, heats, creampie. 

"This feels... Uncomfortable" You mumbled, changing your position for the hundredth time that minute. 

Sweat covered your warm skin but that didn't make you feel better. 

It was only getting worse. You'd reach a point that ignoring your urges and instincts would only lead you to your own destruction. 

"Kaeya... Please, come home" You whimpered, pressing your legs together so you could try to release some tension. 

But things started getting blurry.

And the sounds seemed so stuffy. 

You had fainted. 

And your boyfriend found you weak, sweating coldly as your body kept trembling despite how warm your skin felt. 

"I'm here... Hey, I'm home" 

"Kaeya...?" You blinked torturously slow. 

"Yes, it's me. I'm here to help you" 

"What's happening...? But your thoughts were foggy, since you were way too confused to think straight.

“You’re burning up with fever” 

“My meds… I’m irresponsible”

“It’s something normal, (Name). It’s not like any of us can control our cycles” 

“I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-” You got up from the bed so quickly that your sight became black and your knees faltered. 

“How many times do I need to say to you that you don’t need to suppress anything from your omega nature?” 

“Kaeya… This is a burden. I’m a burden…” Gelid and strong hands pressed your body against his own, trying to help you come to your senses. 

His lips pressed a kiss against your damp neck, gaining a whimper from you. 

“K-Kaeya…?” 

“I just want to make you feel good” Another kiss met your skin. “Allow me to take care of you, my love” 

Carefully your clothes were taken off by his skilled hands right before he helped you to lay down on the bed. 

The silk bed sheets seemed cold the first seconds you laid on them, but they were less cold than Kaeya’s fingertips that traveled against your arm, then hips and finally thighs. 

Shivering, you suppressed another whimper when he sucked on your collarbone, marking you as his once again. 

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive here” Kaeya jokes, kissing the bond mark you received long months ago, during your first cycle together. 

“Kaeya… I’ve been thinking about you all day” 

“I know, love. I know. And I couldn’t take my thoughts out of you”

His lips touched yours, asking for the permission you gave him instantly. 

Your tongues explored each other slowly, while little wet sounds were made and propagated through the bedroom. 

The kiss finished when you both needed to breathe properly.

“Open your legs for me, omega” As if you were enchanted, you obeyed him without thinking twice. 

Your intimacy was fully exposed to the one who claimed you. 

His fingers eagerly collected some of your essence just so he could taste you on his tongue. 

A smile formed on his lips when the captain saw your expression. 

“You want me to claim you, don’t you?” 

“Kaeya… I need you… Myself was never enough for me”

“Shush… I’m here now, remember? Just trust me”

“Please… Please!” 

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

“Just…” You whined when his finger stimulated your clit. “Just make love to me, please”

The man pulled your body towards his, slowly penetrating your sex. 

Some tears of reflex formed on the corner of your eyes just to be kissed away by your partner. 

“Good girl…” You felt a thrust. “Now take a deep breath…”

A steady pace was settled as Kaeya made sure to mark every inch of flesh his eye could admire. 

His hips now collapsed against yours creating lewd sounds that anyone could hear if they were close enough.

Your hands went from the bed sheets to his back, scratching him slightly in pleasure while you struggled to take him properly inside you. 

“Is this too fast for you?” He asked concerned, afraid that your weakness would take the best of you.  

“No… This feels… This feels s-so good” You gasped between his thrusts. 

“Ah…” His voice carried a provocative tonality. “So that feels good, baby?” 

You didn’t answer him.

It was not like you needed to for him to know you were close to your limit. 

One of your hands went to his head, caressing his navy blue locks, guiding him towards your neck. 

“Bite me” And so he did. Alberich’s sharp teeth sank into the healed bonding mark on your neck, bruising it once again and sealing your love one more time. 

“Shush… You’ll be fine. It’s only some blood” 

Some more seconds and you came undone under his body.

The soft squeezes against his shaft made him melt and get closer to his own orgasm. You were able to feel him twitching inside your walls and with that you enlaced your legs around his waist, preventing him from leaving your sex. 

“Don't pull out” You whispered. “I wanna feel it. Fill me up to the brim, please”

• Time break •

His embrace was warm, despite the coldness from the room. 

“Thank you” You whispered when he hid his face against the crook of your neck.

“We’re bonded, right? We should take care of each other all the time” 

You smiled, caressing his hair. 

“I’m quite sore” 

“You must be… It took many rounds to control your dark necessities” 

“K-Kaeya!”

“It’s not like I’m complaining though. Work was tough and at least you helped me to unwind” He kissed your neck once again. “Also… I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

Scenario 2 

4. "I don’t care if they watch"

25. “Don’t cum without my permission”

35. “Can we cuddle afterwards?” 

44. “Not so cocky now, are you?” 

52. “I'm not done with you yet”

“When will you make me your priority?” You complained with tears in the corner of your eyes, but his attention didn’t leave the paperwork in front of him. “You’re always so careless… Don’t you ever think about what your own partner will think about your attitudes?” 

“Enough” The captain got up from his seat, coming towards your direction. 

You thought he would stop in front of you, but his steps didn’t falter one single time, until your body was fully pressed against the wall of his office. 

“K-Kaeya…?” His hand squeezed your wrist, without the intention of hurting you, but only signaling that if you went a bit too far you’d regret it. 

“Not so cocky now, are you?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and anger. 

“If you’ll only argue with me once again, I’ll leave” 

“My, my. Perhaps I don’t have any other choice. besides claiming you in this exact office, right, my doll?” 

“It’s not like this will solve our problems” 

“But we can forget about them during some minutes and that’s enough for me” 

“Kaeya… We are at the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. This is the last thing we should be-” A kiss was stolen from you. 

Dominantly, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, exploring your own tongue with curiosity. 

One of his hands was still holding your wrist tightly while the other held your waist strongly, pressing your body against the door frame. 

“Take off your clothes, quickly” He whispered in your ear after he broke the kiss. 

Shivering with his voice tone, you only had the strength to obey his words. 

The woodend table felt cold when your naked body laid down. 

“What if… What if someone needs to talk to you? What if someone sees us?”

"I don’t care if they watch" His gelid hands opened your legs wide apart, just to see how wet and ready you were for him. “Perhaps you get turned on by arguing?” His finger brushed your clit vigorously, making you squirm. 

“Mhmm… It’s s-so sensitive” 

“Look how prepared you are, dollface. I could start pounding you right now and you’d have no trouble with it, right?” His finger scooped some of your slick, bringing it to your lips. “Taste yourself” 

You sucked on his finger, only to grow addicted to your own taste. 

“See? You’re addictive” The captain unbuckled his belt, hitting your right thigh with the accessory. “I'm not done with you yet”  

Standing still and without trousers, he finally penetrated you, already building up a fast pace within seconds. 

“F-Fuck… This feels so freaking good” You whimpered, forgetting about any topic that you were arguing about. “Kaeya… Kaeya!” His tip brushed against your g-spot continually, making you melt with the stimuli. 

“Keep moaning my name like that. It’s pleasant” His hand scratched your hip hard enough to leave a little mark. 

“I’m… I’m so c-close” 

“Don’t cum without my permission”

“It’s too m-much…” 

“Only some more thrusts and you can come with me. Don’t you dare cumming before I say so. Or else, you’ll be in trouble and I won’t give a fuck we’re at work” 

Your answer was a small whimper and a nod from your head. 

Your body jerked up with his movements while his hips didn’t stop collapsing against yours for once. No thrust failed.  

“Kaeya…?” You asked for permission when your legs started trembling around his waist. “Please?” 

“Deliver it to me, my darling” 

And once again your body obeyed him without questioning anything. 

Your fiancé emptied himself inside you, marking you as his in another way before pulling out of you. 

Your body was way too sticky to put your clothes back on properly when a knock was heard against the door.

“Fuck” You whispered, finishing dressing up. 

“We will finish this later in our bedroom” 

“Can we at least cuddle afterwards?” 

“I’ll take care of you all night long, don’t worry”

Kazuha's Scenario  

28. “Is this too fast for you?” 

41. “Just let your body take control” 

51. “Your scent drives me crazy”

52. “I'm not done with you yet” 

54. “I just want to make you feel good” 

The night breeze carried something sweet to his senses but he knew that such delicate scent he felt wasn't from the small tree that was part of his room's landscape. 

"I know you're here" Kazuha said calmly. 

"I missed you" It was your time to say something after not being able to see him for months straight. "And I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier than you expected-"

His lips shut your mouth with a delicate kiss. 

"I understand that being an adeptus is draining, love. You have nothing to apologize for... But if we finally met today, I shall admit I just want to make you feel good" 

He was perfect. 

He was everything you could ever ask for. 

You've never been with a man who could make you feel so human, so safe and so loved whenever you were together. 

After his whisper, you could feel his hands on your shoulders, his fingers trailing down your neck, as his thumbs stroked your breasts above the fabric of your shirt. 

His hand hoovered along your body, feeling your curves and the softness of your skin. 

"Your scent drives me crazy" Your breathing strained with his tone and you shivered.  Despite the warmth of the room, something about the words and the way he said them into your ears made you weak for him. 

"Kazuha..." You whimpered when he finally guided you to his bed. 

"Is there something wrong?" 

"It's just... I'm not that good when it comes to receiving attention like this" 

"Is this too fast for you?" Worry was all over his face. Forcing you to do something was never on his plans. 

"No... I need you now, Kazuha" 

• Time break • 

He reached your soaked panties, pulling them down so he could fuck you with his skilled fingers. 

You moaned soundly with your back arched, eyes closed tightly as you simply enjoyed that warm night by his side. 

You haven't felt like this in so long.

You needed this feeling. 

You needed his love.  

And you needed him. 

Your hips buck as you try to get away, but his grip is tight while his tongue savors all you had to offer him. 

"Kazuha..." His name was nothing more than a whisper that left your agape lips. 

It was hard for you to let your guard down like that, even if you trusted him enough to do such. Almost as the man above you could read your mind, he reassured you: 

"Just let your body take control” He was growing impatient, just wanting nothing more than to be inside of you. 

"I'll make you mine once again" 

When he slides inside you, filling you up to the brim, you cry out with a mixture of overstimulation and euphoria. 

He makes your love deeper every time he thrusts into your sensitive core over and  over again with his body pressed against yours, his face oh so close to you that he had to steal some kisses from you. 

Kisses that were hot and hungry. 

His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip before taking it between his teeth. 

Kazuha teases your mouth with his tongue, flicking it this way and that until you can no longer stand it, so you open your mouth, letting his tongue explore further. 

Your whole body tingles from head to toe.

Everything else disappeared from your mind except the feeling of his body on yours, his hands caressing your body, his kisses and the way he ravished you in the most sinful way he could. 

Your body would remember him after that. 

Your body would show you belonged to him and him alone. 

His cock twitched inside you when he was finally close, just when your orgasm ripped through your body. 

Kazuha's voice sounded raspy against your ears after he marked your insides with his seed, which easily found its way towards your womb due the constant contractions of your tight walls. 

"I'm not done with you yet”

Scaramouche's Scenario 

5. "Shit, I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-"* Edited to: "I'm still having heats even if I dope on medication…"

9. "Bite me" 

17. “Don't pull out”

18.“Why do you smell so good?”

25. “Don’t cum without my permission” 

32. “Make love to me, please”

35. “Can we cuddle afterwards?”* Edited to: “Can I cuddle you?” 

TW: Omegaverse things

Finishing reporting your last mission to the Tsaritsa was incredibly hard when all you wanted to do was laying in bed and having someone to take care of your stupid heat.

"I consider your mission a success. Now leave." The archon said with contempt before you left the gelid room swiftly. 

Your vision was blurred and your legs were weak enough to make the walking to your room difficult. 

"It stings..." You gasped, trying to breathe properly since the oxygen felt heavy and inefficient. "I'm still having heats even if I dope on medication…" You were so lost in thought - talking to yourself - that  you didn't notice there was someone passing by the corridor. 

The collision was strong enough to bother your sensitive body. 

"Can't you see I'm trying to pass this freaking corridor?" The harbinger said harshly before he knew it was you that had bumped against him. "Oh, (Name)... It's you… My bad" 

"Scaramouche... Forgive me... I just- I just need to get to my bedroom" You runned through the last few meters of the corridor just so you could enter your place and lock the door. 

"Fuck... This feels so overwhelming" You whimpered, with your body glued on the door frame. 

Having the wooden door behind you being knocked on so harshly made your body shake a little. 

"Open the door, please" 

"Scaramouche… I'm fine, you can leave" 

"I can smell your scent from miles away, omega. If there's something you need right now it's someone to take care of your heat, right?" 

'How can him be so accurate?'  You thought to yourself. 

"Come on, we've done this before-" 

Before he could finish his line, you opened the door slowly, blushing while you watched a grin form on his lips. 

Pulling your body against his, the harbinger whispered in your ear, close enough to make your body shiver. 

"I know exactly what you need, my love" The door behind you both was closed abruptly. 

"So… Can I finally help you?" His fingers gripped your chin weakly, only applying enough pressure so he could make your lips touch. 

His cold nose brushed against your neck, breathing in your sweet scent, before so soon, a kiss being stolen from you. 

It started softly, almost showing his affection towards you but soon he deepened the kiss until your lips were sore. 

"Why do you smell so good?" Scaramouche whispered, pressing kisses down your neck. 

"Make love to me, please" You whimpered, gripping his clothes with weak and shaken hands. 

"You seem to not be able to focus on anything else besides my hands. Tell me, my love. Do you want me to do something with them?"

"Touch me, please" You whimpered. 

"Ah, I see. You're so obediently waiting for me to start playing around with you, yet I'm here, all words, no actions" His fingers left your chin to hold your face delicately, with his thumb brushing against your lower lip before he could steal a peck from you. "Let's get started with this" He whispered while laying you down on the comfortable bed before getting above you. 

A soft squeeze on the flesh of your breasts was enough to make you whimper.

And the thin fabric of your shirt made you feel every stimulation of his fingers against your nipples. They always had been a sensitive spot of yours and Scaramouche seemed to understand that rather quickly with the help of your reactions. 

Soon the soft touches were lowered to the level of your hips and thighs. The skilled fingers gained goosebumps from your body as the harbinger carefully explored your weaknesses. 

At some point, you unconsciously opened your legs, giving him enough room so he could finally touch your sex. Pulling your panties to the side, he teased your clit with his middle finger until it was soaked with your slick. 

"It seems you're nice and ready for me, even though I barely touched you" You felt his fingers brushing against your aching walls as he thrusted them into your sex. “Fuck, you’re perfect" 

You swallowed dryly with his statement, trying to not sound that needy. 

His fingers' pace suddenly became faster and the constant stimulation made you reach your high so easily it was almost comic. 

"Your little sounds are so cute yet so sinful" The harbinger whispered, taking his fingers off your walls right before he licked them clean. "And your taste is so freaking addictive I could eat you up all night long” 

“Scara… I need you now” You gasped, cheeks red in embarrassment. 

“You made a mess of me, doll" You could see through his pants how hard you had gotten him. “Wanna feel it inside of you, my love?” You nodded. 

Watching him taking off his shorts and underwear made you not pay attention to his next actions. 

Your heart skipped a beat when he pulled your body close to his. 

Your faces were really close once again that night as you felt the urge to pull him for a kiss before anything else could happen. 

"Can I?" He asked for permission after corresponding to your kiss. 

"I’m yours" 

Even though you were ready for him, it was difficult for you to take him properly inside your walls. 

The soft squeezes your insides made every now and then made him almost lose concentration while he built his pace up. 

"You feel so freaking good~" He was strong enough to pin you down with only one hand, as the other stimulated your bundle of nerves. "I absolutely adore how vulnerable you look while I ravish you like this" 

"Scara..." You squirmed under him as your orgasm got closer. "Deeper, please" 

A smile formed on his lips before he took your legs from his waist to put them above his shoulders, allowing him to reach deeper within you. 

You saw his frame through your blurry eyes: his hair looked so beautiful even when the indigo locks were messy because of his movements. His hand wasn't holding your own against the mattress anymore so you took the chance to caress his hair with love before pleading;

“Bite me” And your wish was finally fulfilled before the harbinger laughed quietly at how lovely you looked: red cheeks, plumpy lips, sweaty and marked skin with some of the hickeys he had given you. “Fuck… I’m close…” 

 “Don’t cum without my permission” He ordered, before thrusting against your sex even faster, making your hips sore. Holding back your orgasm made you feel weak, but obeying his orders to make him proud was worth it. 

“Please…” You whimpered, marking his back with soft scratches. “Please, let me cum, master… I c-can’t hold it any longer…” 

A smile formed on his lips. 

“Deliver it to me, my darling” Was what he said before both of your bodies got soft due your climax.  "I'm glad I finally made you mine again after craving you for so damn long" Pulling him to a kiss, you both exchanged glances of affection before you asked him for another detail. 

"Don't pull out" You whimpered, bringing his body ever closer to yours. 

"I won’t pull out for now…" You felt a kiss against the skin of your neck. 

“Could you cuddle me?” You whispered shyly.

“So pure and so passionate…” His thumb brushed against your lips. “I’ll cuddle you all night long, my doll. And in the morning, I’ll still be here. I don’t care about the Tsaritsa rules” 

• Time break •

The next morning, you still felt his body against yours, cuddling you with love. 

“Scara…?”

“I’m here” 

"Could you make me yours once again?"

Venti's Scenario 

16. “I think we were a little too loud last night”

25. “Don’t cum without my permission” 

26. “I think ropes would look lovely on you”

44. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

53. “Remember the safeword, you're allowed to use it” 

55. “I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

"Being so vulnerable and devoted to your God is something beautiful, my muse" The bard's voice was nothing but a murmur against your lips. "I could almost write a song about our love, so the winds would tell the entire Teyvat the story of a mere bard and his loved one" With that, the kiss finally started, making you melt under his body. His tongue explored your mouth with delicacy, slowly sucking your own tongue every now and then before he broke the contact to breathe properly. 

You felt something brushing against your arms' skin before you gasped his name. 

"Venti..." A smile formed on his lips. 

"I think ropes would look lovely on you" 

"Ropes...? Are you planning-" A cute giggle left his lips before the god started bondaging your body to his taste. 

"Your innocence is so sweet, my muse" 

The first spot that got his attention were your breasts and a silly but meaningful idea crossed his mind. 

His slim fingers traced patterns above your flesh, making you focus on what was he writing against your skin. 

"M... I... N... E..." You whispered. "Mine..." 

"You're a quick learner, my muse" His face got closer to yours so he could murmur something against your ear. "You belong to me" Lowering his head, his tongue now swirling around your nipples, making you squirm under him while his slim fingers traveled to your core, stimulating you to the point that tears of pleasure formed in the corner of your eyes. 

"Venti... Just like that..."  His fingers stretched you out for him for long minutes until your body couldn't take it anymore. 

Your whimpers told him you were close, but letting you cum without having him inside you so he could feel the soft squeezes of your walls while he marked you with his seed was a waste. 

“Don’t cum without my permission” He told you with a demanding tone, before letting his fingers go off you. "You should do as I say, right, my muse? You want to make your master proud, don't you?" 

"Yes, Venti... I wanna make you proud of me" 

"Ne, my muse... You provoked me all day long... Touching me, stealing kisses and whispering lewd thoughts against my ear... You really thought you're the one in charge in this relationship?" A soft chuckle left his lips before he entered your sex without much warning. 

"F-Fuck... Mhm~" Your back arched a little in the perfect angle to show how deep he was into you with the bulge on your belly. "So... S-So deep..." Your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you felt his hips collapsing against yours at a hard pace. 

"Look at you... You can barely talk properly, my muse..." He kissed your forehead. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

The ropes created enough friction against your skin to provide some pain that mixed with pleasure made you feel alive for once. 

His length brushed against the certain spot that made you melt under him while he marked your body as his and his only. 

"Barbatos-" His true name left your mouth when you felt overstimulated for the first time that night. "Too much..." 

"Remember the safeword, you're allowed to use it” 

"All I need is you, now" You said softly in answer, even though you were feeling so many sensations that your mind was foggy. 

You didn’t remember much of what happened after you finally reached your climax. 

You could say you whimpered when you felt his warm essence entering your womb, instinctively pulling his body against yours as you both came down from your high. 

Your body was feeling too heavy and sleepiness made you fall into a slumber. 

The next morning, the sunlight woke you up. 

"Windblume..." Venti, who was cuddling you, whispered in your ear. "Good morning, my muse" You squeezed his hand as an answer, still way too sleepy to start a conversation. 

"I think we were a little too loud last night" Was the only thing you said within long minutes of cuddling. 

"Oh... You think so, my muse? But... I must admit that being a bit loud is part of my personality" He kissed your neck delicately to not hurt the sore skin from his hickeys. "Mhm... Windblume?" 

"Yes?" 

“I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

"V-Venti, come on... I still work at the tavern, you know?" You complained. 

"Ne, it's okay, princess. People will simply know that you belong to me forever" His voice became mischievous. "And you can't say you weren't in the mood for some marks"

Xiao's Scenario

8. "You’re so turned on already? That was fast" 

11. "I want you now" 

14. “Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good” 

32. “Make love to me, please” 

51. “Your scent drives me crazy” 

52. “I'm not done with you yet”

55. “I may or may not have left some…. Marks”* Changed to: "I may or may not leave some marks on you" 

Having the one woman that messed up with the adeptus' feelings right in front of him made him aware of what could happen next. 

"Xiao...?" You asked quietly, getting up from your bed at Wangshu Inn rapidly. 

"My apologies. Appearing out of nowhere like I do may scare humans like you. I just felt I should check on you, is all" His eyes glowed intensely inside the barely illuminated room. 

"To... Check on me?" You asked confused, since he almost never showed up to you, even though he was always in the same area.

He didn't answer you, but a scoff of irritation left his lips, making you shiver. 

"Is there something wrong? Are you hurt...?" 

"I need to be honest, is all, (Name)" His voice carried some frustration. 

You nodded, giving him space to start talking whenever he felt comfortable to do so. The worst thing you could do with Xiao was pressuring him in any way. 

"I hate feeling like this. But you changed me. You managed to destroy the walls I passed centuries building up just so I could isolate myself from anyone or anything. You with your way of being... You showed me a side of myself I didn't even know was alive anymore. You showed me that perhaps giving myself a chance to start over isn't as dreadful as I thought..." He approached you with careful steps, checking your reactions to see if he could go any further. 

Your heart skipped a beat with his words. 

So after all this time you both had met... Xiao was finally able to comprehend what he was truly feeling? 

"I'm stretching on this speech... What I need to say is... I love you, and I need you, (Name)"

The distance between you two disappeared when you pulled him to a kiss. 

• Time break • 

"Your scent drives me crazy" The adeptus almost whimpered against the crook of your neck. "I've been trying to deny my feelings towards you but it's useless... I think we just need to get carried away with our urges" 

His hands moved swiftly across your body, your breasts, arms and thighs. 

"I want you now" He moans as he pulls your panties to the level of your knees just so he could rub your clit against his thumb.

"Xiao..." Your voice was shaky. "S-So sensitive..." 

"You’re so turned on already? That was fast" The adeptus teases as he feels you squeeze the finger he now pumped inside your heat. 

Your little sounds made the most sinful thoughts cross his mind while he explored possibilities with your body. 

"Good, good..." He murmurs as he continues to work your clit with his thumb while two other fingers stimulate your sweet spots. "Such a good girl you're, (Name)..." 

"Please... I need more" You gasped. 

"Make love to me, please” You moan as you feel his hands on your breasts just so his fingers could pinch your nipples.

He then slams into you, filling you so perfectly well that every muscle of your body goes into spasm. Your eyes water as you try to blink them back shut, but you can't stop the hot tears from streaming down your cheeks as your body continues to tremble every single time Xiao thrusts into your insides. 

“Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good” His voice was raw, showing the side of him he always tried to hide

"Oh gods" You mutter as you clutch his shoulders and kiss him, your tongue exploring his mouth as he kisses you back.

You feel his hands on your hips, then his fingers trailing down your inner thighs he holds you tightly during your lovemaking. 

You can feel the tip of his length almost pressing against your cervix, and you can feel as your walls tightened around him as your orgasm hits you. 

"Xiao..." You sounded like an angel to him. Pressing his body against your even more with your legs as his hips rock back and forth against yours non-stop, you soon felt he had finally reached his high. 

A warm liquid marked every of your walls' crevices in jolts, as his breathing became uneasy right before Xiao stole a kiss from your lips. 

An almost aggressive kiss that showed you his desires were not satisfied just yet. 

"I'm not done with you yet” A weak smile formed on his lips as he brushed a lock from your hair out of your forehead. "May this night make up for the time we've lost" 

"Still..." He continues. "I may or may not leave some marks on you" 

"It's not like I'll mind them" You answered before changing positions.

Zhongli's Scenario 

5. "Shit, I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-" 

11. “I want you now” 

14. "Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good" 

31. "You want me to claim you, don't you?"

47. "Come for me, you've done so well"

51. “Your scent drives me crazy” 

TW: Omegaverse things

"Shit, I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-" You whimpered, thinking you were alone inside that place. 

You could only hope your scent wasn't too strong or tempting at that moment. Afterall, with your status as an omega and having an alpha being your manager was specifically hard due your instincts. 

Your nature could take the best of you at any moment and that thought by itself was almost terrifying. 

"Hey" Zhongli's voice made you jolt in place. "Hey, it's okay..." 

"Zhongli... You were supposed to come to work only t-tomorrow-" Before you could finish your line your knees faltered due to the weakness from your heat. 

To your surprise, strong hands prevent you from falling, leading to both of your bodies pressing against each other. 

"Didn’t expect to see me here?" His voice sounded confused. "Or it's only a deception I came here during such a delicate moment, my omega?" 

“So you noticed that detail…”

"So warm, sweet and inviting" You felt a kiss against your nape. It was so delicate and desperate it made his mind sink into lewd thoughts. "You're aware of the truth, right?"

“Zhongli…?” He inhaled your aroma slowly, letting every note of your scent trigger the right sensations from his being.

“Sooner or later our natures will take the lead. It’s better to get to know each other while our minds aren’t so hazy” 

“Please, m-make this stop-” You whimpered when his fingers pressed against the place a bond mark should be. 

“Your scent drives me crazy” The man whispered, before carefully  leaning you on the table of the office. “I’ll make you mine, and I’ll be yours” 

Zhongli started kissing your stomach as his hands gripped your hips tightly right before opening your legs with strong hands, massaging your entrance right above the fabric of your panties. 

Your back arched a little with the friction and you moaned. 

"You're so vulnerable like this it hurts" 

“Zhongli… I want you now… I need you now”

"You want me to claim you, don't you?" 

"Mhm…" 

He was already hard, ready to just penetrate you. Stroking his member and brushing himself against your folds almost drove him insane. 

The one who was your boss penetrated you slowly, enjoying every inch of his cock being involved by your wet and warm walls. With his length now entirely inside you, his tip almost reached your cervix. 

"Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good" 

Morax started his thrusts and your slick only made it easier for him to do what he craved and needed. 

His lips captured yours in a warm and slow kiss and his tongue explored your mouth as he stimulated your clit with the fingers of one of his hands. 

Everything quickly became too much to you, with your orgasm being so close it almost hurted. 

"Alpha!" You whined, your nails scratching his back in pleasure.

"Come for me, you've done so well"

And your body obeyed him that time, and many other times later.

[personapeters]

✰ 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭-𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

— frat boyfriend rafe if he turned to college instead of crime (lol)

rating: sfw — cw: a little suggestive, language

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… during the day wears his regular rich boy attire: a polo, fitted shorts, and sneakers worth more than a semesters tuition. after hours, you’ll find him casually dressed in a university branded tee that hugged his biceps oh-so perfectly, gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a backwards snapback that held his long hair out of his face — perfection.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… is supposed to wear glasses but rarely does, saying they make him look like ‘a fucking geek’. eventually, he became comfortable enough to wear them around you and only you in the privacy of your dorm, and you’d tease him about how he’s the hottest ‘geek’ you’ve ever seen.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… never lets you walk back to your dorm alone, no matter the time or circumstance. whether it be broad daylight or the middle of the night, he makes zero exceptions — he’s seen the way some of the guys interacted with the girls on campus and he’ll burn the place down before it happens to you.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… isn’t really fond of coffee unless its fully black, but occasionally brings you your favorite cream filled and sugar loaded latte when you have an early morning class, loving how much sweeter it makes your mouth taste.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… begrudgingly walks (practically drags) your drunk friends back to their dorms whenever you ask him to, though he couldn’t care less how they got home. as terrible as it sounds, he only does it for you.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… enjoys to show you off to his frat brothers but simultaneously hates when they look at you. it didn’t make sense, and he was well aware of that, but it’s true — in a ‘look how hot my girl is’ yet a ‘she’s mine, don’t look at her’ way.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… met you at the campus library, as cliche as it is. he was only there to make quick deal outside, but when he spotted you through a window as your fingers grazed the spines of the books on the shelf, he knew he had to go inside.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… loves when you wear his university branded t-shirts and hoodies, loving how they swallow you whole as your sleeping gowns or when you roll them up, paired with leggings: “fuck, keep that one — looks so fuckin’ good on you.”

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… insists on covering any and every cost that your scholarships don’t and more; books, supplies, dorm furniture, food, clothes, gas, fees, whatever. of course, you were bewildered as to how a college student had enough money to fund someone else’s life, let alone their own, but once you learned the entirety of his lengthy backstory, it all made plenty of sense.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… has gotten into his fair share of fights over you, feeling it’s mandatory that everyone on campus knows who’s girl you are and what happens when they challenge that. let it be a suggestive comment or a lingering touch, rafe’s always quick to set shit straight. typically, that type of behavior would result in expulsion, but with the cameron family’s high status and money, rafe was never actually punished for anything.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… only made it into the same university as you due to his wealth. sure, he was smart but wouldn’t have made it in without his monetary advantage. he’d often get angry and frustrated whenever doing work he simply couldn’t master, but you were like his personal tutor, reassuring him that he can, he just needs to take the time and study (with your help, of course).

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… has your schedule memorized, often casually leaning outside of your classroom with his arms crossed over his chest as he waits for you to emerge so he can shamelessly perform some p.d.a. before escorting you to your next location.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… once brought you to visit his home town on a break, the outer banks, taking you to all of his favorite spots and, hesitantly, introducing you to his close friends and family. he even explained the whole ‘pogues vs kooks’ thing, emphasizing his distaste for the latter — you honestly thought it was insane: “y’know… if i grew up here, i’d’ve been a ‘pogue’, too,” you reasoned. “yeah, well, you didn’t,” he stated stoically.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… only went to college with the plan to build his credentials, promising his father he’d soon join in on running the family business. his father was impressed to hear that, saying, “really? wow… m’proud of you, son,” hugging him firmly in a way he seldom did; all rafe’s ever wanted was to be loved and accepted by his dad, and this was his way to do it.

— frat!boyfriend rafe who… is very aware of and annoyed by how other girls throw themselves at him during parties or in the halls — instead of it fueling his ego, it only angers him because he knows they can see you standing right next to him: “swear the bitch is fuckin’ stupid… like she doesn’t see my hand on your ass.”

 personapeters 2024 — all rights reserved • masterlist

[amphitriteswife]

Heir

Pairing: Emperor Geta x wife reader

Warning: nsfw content. Also he’s hairy because i say so okay. You are too because it’s normal to have hair there. I’m bad at smut. Idk squirting ig

Summary; Geta was thinking about having a child after you once held one in your arms, unknown thay he was experiencing baby fever.

Note: i’m seeing the movie next monday aaaaaaahhhh and it got cringe to write this sorry🥲

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Geta walked up to your chamber, he had just gotten back from visiting another temple. This time the temple of Juno. He had visited Venus last week and found that it was pretty effective. His cape was dragging in the cold, flat tiles. He hadn’t seen in you in a while even if you were his wife. It was common for you to spend your time occupied with something or with someone else. It’s not like you hated him, no. He knows that you love him and only him. But the duty of the empress calls just as often as the duty of the emperor. The last time he had seen you was when the both of you sat in the throne room, you holding a baby and giving your blessing to the little one. He doesn’t know why, he really doesn’t. But that interaction had sparked something in him. You were holding the baby so gently, and it looked up at you as if it could feel your gentleness. The way your eyes held a soft gaze, something you only shared to the peasants and children. You looked so motherly that it made him wonder: what would it be like if you indeed had a child? Ofcourse he knows that such a thing is not an easy task nor job.

He knows that in the early staged when the two of you were just newly wed, that you didn’t want any children. You found it to be too soon. Too much work. He knew your stance on it. It meant your life was now about the child on top of being and empress and wife. There was going to be a lot on your shoulders if you indeed had his child. But apart from that, it also raises the discussion of the baby being a boy or a girl. Most would think that a boy would be the ideal child, it would take over his legacy and conquer more land. It would be a good emperor and continue his bloodline. Yes it always had been like that. But girls are cuter, and he can’t deny that girls usually seem to be daddy’s children. Besides he has his brother who counts as a child…having a girl doesn’t seem so bad…men just exaggerate. Yes. They’re just dramatic. Baby girls are cute. Geta snickered to himself as his mind wandered to images if him holding a baby girl in his arms, brushing her hair and her smiling at him. She’ll be so cute! But…his mind also wandered to images of having a son, teaching him how to use a sword or spear…making sure he turns out into a great man, husband and emperor….oh gods on mount Olympus help him. He can’t decide. He wants both. They’re both so cute. So little. His heart feels as if it’s about to burst. Geta’s footsteps came to a halt, his eyes wandering over you. You were eating pomegranates…it made him sigh. You always had a fixation on Proserpina and Pluto. Many often even feared to speak their names yet here you are, eating the fruit they symbolize. But then again, it’s not like he doesn’t know you. It’s such a you thing, being so daring. It makes you sexy. He noticed that you were reading something. Probably about taxes. At least that’s what he assumes. His eyes lingering on your stomach…he feels weird, did you notice him being weird too?

‘What are you staring at emperor?’

The question made him let out a stunned sound. He hadn’t realized that you were looking at him while he was staring. Did you notice something? Should he tell you? Yes, he should. It’s making him feel very weird and he really wants it. Besides, it won’t hurt to have a conversation about it right? Yes you had your stance but maybe you changed your mind? After all you had grown to love him and he loved you back. Perhaps you shared his desire to have a child? It won’t hurt to ask. He walked over to you, his heart a pumping a little faster, he didn’t necessarily feel nervous…just a little…scary. His hands fumbling a little with his cape as he say down next to you on the sofa. Placing your legs in his lap and rubbing your legs.

‘Empress…do you have a moment?’

‘Yes, speak your mind emperor.’

‘I wish to have a child with you…i am uncertain as to why i suddenly feel this way, but it has been on my mind for quite a while. I do not expect to have one right away. But i would like to actively try for one.’

Your silence made him a little nervous. Did you not feel the same way? He doesn’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to. It’s just an idea…an idea that makes him feel very aroused and made him lay awake for many nights. He feels embarrassed, embarrassed that his mind is filled with such scenarios. He wants to try for a baby. Oh my gods he wants to have a baby. He has to make one…which means he has to has sex with you! His expression turned a little shocked. He totally hadn’t thought about that. The two of you never did it before. Venus help him! He can’t take this!

‘Emperor? Hello? Emperor! You look like a gaping fish!’

‘Ah- uhm sorry i was thinking about…stuff.’

‘Oh…okay…but to answer your question, i had been thinking about the same thing.’

The room was filled with the sounds of pleasure, mainly Geta’s voice overpowering any other. Even the sound of skin coming into contact with one another, his hand’s were holding your hips, moving along with your figure going up and down in an unsteady rhythm. He knows that you’re doing it on purpose. He knows it, you’re trying to make him come first. The many rings around his fingers felt cold against your skin, making you shiver when they moved along with you. Geta watched as he saw himself disappear into you, he could feel the wetness of your pussy staining his ginger pubes. His lips came unto contact with your neck, licking along side it and sucking onto your skin, he took his hands away from your hips and instead wrapped your arms around you. His mouth dry from the moaning and groaning, geta’s fingers reached for your folds, his lips pressing onto yours as he rubbed his fingers against your clit. His middle finger flicked against your clit, rubbing and stimulating it until he felt a sudden gush of warm liquid against his hand and a strangles of moans from you. Geta smiled and grabbed your face with his other hand, making you look back at him and pressed his lips against yours, the insides of his mouth invading yours. His eyes focused on the wet spot on the bed.

Geta moaned in your mouth before pulling away. He flipped you on your back, pulling your legs over his shoulders and leaning into you. His hands grabbing his heavy cock and gently pushing the tip inside if you. His voice was deep and hoarse when he whispered in your ear.

‘There we go…shhh…it’s okay…I’ll make you feel good okay?’

He moved slowly, only letting the tip enter your body and holding you steady, his voice laced a little with concern. He patted your pussy with the tip of his fingers. The soft and gently touch to your sensitive clit making you groan a little.

‘Are you holding on my empress?’

He chuckled when you nodded at him and placed another kiss onto your lips. Geta hummed in your mouth and have you a wink, his other hand drinking your hair. You’re holding on so well. You deserve a reward.

‘Think you can take it all? We’ll do it slowly okay?’

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part12

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: time jump, anxiety(?)

EXTRA -`✮´- JJ’s and Reader’s lock screen.

previous - next

Twelve Month Old.

Life moved fast. There was no denying it. 

Everything happened in such a whirlwind that before you knew it, an entire year had slipped by. A whole journey you had managed to navigate, though, of course, not without JJ’s irreplaceable help. 

The kitchen hummed with a peaceful kind of chaos, the sweet scent of strawberries mingling in the air. You stood at the counter, focused on decorating the cake while half your attention was tuned to the laughter drifting in from the living room. Small giggles, paired with JJ’s playful chuckles, echoed through the walls of your little home. 

As you carefully placed sliced strawberries atop the creamy frosting, you glanced toward the living room. Your little girl sat in the corner, clutching her stuffed teddy with delighted excitement. Across from her, on his knees, was JJ, pulling the silliest faces imaginable to keep her entertained. Her infectious laughter seemed to chase away every ounce of exhaustion you felt. 

For a moment, a warm wave of contentment washed over you. Sometimes, amidst all the chaos, it was these simple moments that made life truly worth it. Still, you forced yourself to focus. As much as you wanted to join them, you had a cake to finish—and today had to be perfect. 

As you piped the homemade frosting onto the cake, you listened closely to the sounds from the other room. JJ’s low murmurs, the pitter-patter of tiny feet, and your daughter’s joyous squeals filled the house. 

Even without seeing them, you could picture it all in your mind. A soft smile spread across your face as you worked on the cake for her first birthday celebration. Tomorrow, she would officially turn one. An entire year. 

How had you made it to this point? Time had flown so fast you never even had the chance to ask, “What’s happening right now?” Everything had raced by, and now, here you were—your daughter, a whole year old. Twelve months gone in the blink of an eye. 

The party wouldn’t be big. Just a simple setup on the back porch with a decorated table. Your parents would come, along with JJ’s friends and maybe a couple of neighbors. Mostly, it would be Liliana’s playmates from the park. That was all. 

Even though she wouldn’t remember it, you wanted her to smile when she looked back at the photos one day. You wanted her to feel a sense of peace, a happiness unclouded by memories of the separation her parents had gone through. 

In fact, you hoped those memories wouldn’t even cross her mind. 

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled you from your thoughts. You set down the piping bag and turned to see JJ walking toward you, your daughter balanced in his arms. A wide grin spread across your face. 

“She’s all worn out from playing too much,” JJ said, his smile as easy as ever. He started tickling her with his free hand, and the kitchen filled with her bright laughter. Just hearing it warmed you from the inside out. 

“Oh, is that so?” you teased. Anytime they played too hard, Liliana seemed to go straight into what you called “hibernation mode.” She’d be asleep in minutes. Classic JJ effect. Joining in, you reached over to tickle her too, but you both stopped after a moment, not wanting to tire her out any further. She was already sleepy enough. 

You stepped back slightly as JJ leaned in to check on the cake over your shoulder. His hand hovered dangerously close to the frosting, ready to sneak a taste, but when he caught your raised brow, he quickly withdrew. 

“Almost done, huh?” he said, his eyes still locked on the cake like it was a masterpiece—or maybe just his next meal. 

You nodded, glancing back at your work. “Isn’t that right, Liliana? Look what Mommy made!” 

JJ pointed to the cake as Liliana let out a tiny laugh, reaching her hands toward you. Without hesitation, you scooped her up into your arms. 

“Yeah, do you like it, sweetheart?” you cooed, giving her a gentle sway. Her head lolled onto your shoulder, and you and JJ couldn’t help but chuckle. Her sleepy demeanor was always the sweetest thing. She wasn’t an overly hyper child, but when she was tired, she turned into the most docile little angel. 

“You really wore her out,” you murmured, stroking her messy hair with a fond smile. It was far from the neat ponytails you had done that morning—proof of how much fun she’d had with JJ. 

“That’s my specialty,” he said proudly, tapping Liliana’s chubby cheek with a grin. He lifted her tiny hand and planted a series of dramatic kisses on it. “Swear she’s about to knock out,” he added with a lopsided smile. 

You lifted Liliana and pressed a kiss to her plump cheek, unable to stop the warmth that filled your heart. This past year had been the best of your life. Every moment with her had been worth everything. 

The first few weeks had been tough—what new mother didn’t struggle? But you were endlessly grateful for the people who had stayed by your side, supporting you every step of the way. Your parents had stayed with you, helping whenever they could. And then there were Cleo and Sarah—both absolute sweethearts who never hesitated to lend a hand. 

Thinking back to the times when it was just the four of you always brought a smile to your face. And Sarah, oh Sarah. Her relentless efforts to declare herself “Aunt Sarah” to the world were both endearing and hilarious. If you’d let her, she probably would’ve gotten it printed on a banner. 

And then there was JJ. You didn’t even hesitate to call him Liliana’s uncle. Because he truly was. He stood behind you like a fortress, always keeping you steady. Whenever you felt overwhelmed or doubted yourself, he was the one who wouldn’t let you fall. In the early months of your pregnancy, you had stumbled more times than you cared to admit, but once JJ became a permanent fixture in your life, that never happened again. He simply wouldn’t let it. 

Of course, there had been challenges. But his unwavering support had made it all worthwhile. 

Liliana’s tiny hands brushing against your face made you laugh softly. You kissed her little fingers and smiled. “If you can keep her entertained for just a little longer, I’ll finish up the cake and then put her down for a nap. Sound good?” 

You glanced up at JJ as you spoke. He was leaning casually against the counter, one arm propped up while his free hand snagged a strawberry from the cutting board. Popping it into his mouth, he shrugged, barely pausing to enjoy the taste before muttering something nonsensical to Liliana, who giggled in reply. 

JJ licked his fingers clean and reached toward you to take Liliana. “You know, I could do it,” he said with a mock-seriousness as he adjusted her securely against his hip. You watched as Liliana instantly settled, her little head coming to rest against his chest. The sight of the two of them like that filled your heart with warmth. 

“I know,” you replied with a nod. But JJ didn’t look entirely convinced. His uncertain gaze lingered on you, as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. You knew he had a full plate—work often wore him out, and some days it was a struggle for him to even take time off. Yet no matter how tired he was, whenever you needed help with Liliana or anything around the house, he never hesitated. 

Even so, you didn’t want to burden him more than necessary. Besides, it wasn’t a difficult task. Liliana was a calm child, and with her nap time fast approaching, she was already on the brink of sleep. JJ had clearly tired her out with all their playing. You were confident she’d drift off quickly. 

JJ opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get the words out, a small, unmistakable sound broke through the air. 

“Ma-ma.” 

You froze. Completely, utterly froze. The kitchen fell silent, as if the whole world had paused with you. The strawberry JJ had been reaching for slipped from his hand and landed on the counter. His wide eyes darted to Liliana. 

“What… What did she just say?” he whispered, his voice a mix of shock and awe. 

Liliana, grinning ear to ear, pushed herself against him, her small face glowing with excitement. Before you could even process what was happening, she let out a gleeful laugh and bounced in his arms, nearly losing her balance in her excitement. Her tiny pigtails bobbed as she steadied herself. 

This time, more clearly, she said it again, with determination. “Ma-ma.” 

Tears filled your eyes. Your heart swelled in your chest, beating so hard it felt like a tidal wave crashing against your ribs. You took a step closer to JJ, your hand reaching out to gently stroke Liliana’s cheek. “She can’t possibly be saying that,” you murmured, your voice trembling with emotion. You wanted to scream with joy, but you held it in. You didn’t want to startle her. 

JJ, still holding her, looked down at her with a mixture of astonishment and a soft, almost reverent smile. “We’ve been waiting for her to talk, but… Oh God,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. 

It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t been sneakily repeating “Ma-Ma” in her presence, hoping to nudge her toward saying it. 

You leaned in, kissing Liliana’s rosy cheeks, your heart overflowing with joy. If only you could’ve captured the moment on video. 

JJ, who had been relatively quiet in the background, finally spoke, his tone tinged with playful sarcasm. “So… do you love me as much as her now? Or am I still in trouble for that time I ruined the cake?” 

“What cake? What are you—” You whipped around to check the cake. Sure enough, one side of it had collapsed, the frosting smudged into an unsalvageable mess. 

JJ winced, offering a sheepish smile. “We can, uh, get a new one, right?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite yourself. There, surrounded by the warm scents of strawberries and frosting, your little family shared a moment that felt timeless. For just a while, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only love, laughter, and the perfectly imperfect chaos of this life you were building together. 

One Year Old

The living room echoed with Liliana’s joyful laughter. The little girl stretched out her arms, wobbling on her tiny feet as she worked hard to find her balance. Amid the colorful plush toys scattered on the floor, she seemed to grasp an essential truth: falling wasn’t as important as learning to get back up. With every step, her small feet trembled, sometimes tipping her forward precariously. But she was persistent. Even when she toppled over, she would immediately try again. 

JJ sat on the edge of the couch, watching her with a proud grin. Setting his coffee mug aside, he leaned forward slightly and called out, “Liliana, careful now. Let’s not bump into the coffee table, alright?” 

At that exact moment, Liliana stumbled again and plopped onto the floor with a soft “Oops!” Her wide eyes turned to JJ, as if asking, What just happened?

JJ was at her side in an instant, crouching down and holding out his hands. “Look here, young lady. Even when we fall, we get right back up, don’t we? Like a true Pogue.” His voice carried a playful warmth as he smiled at her. 

Liliana babbled in response, her tiny, nonsensical sounds making JJ chuckle. She placed her little hands in his, using his support to stand up again. JJ nodded dramatically. “That’s my girl! Now, let’s try it again, sweetheart.” 

Determined, Liliana let go of JJ’s hands, took a few wobbly steps, and fell once more. But this time, her giggle rang out louder than ever. JJ joined her laughter as you sat on the floor nearby, coffee mug in hand, watching the scene unfold. Their shared joy and Liliana’s little triumphs momentarily swept you away into a bittersweet reverie. 

You couldn’t help but think about everything that had been and everything that could’ve been. 

As you watched JJ hold Liliana’s hands and help her stand again, a faint melancholy crept into your heart. Her smile warmed you, but your thoughts wandered far from the present. 

The turbulent times with Rafe felt like a wound tucked into the corner of your mind. The fear, uncertainty, and rejection you’d faced while carrying Liliana lingered, even as your life now brimmed with happiness. Liliana was growing up so fast. She was already halfway through her first year. And one day, the inevitable question would come: Where’s my dad?

The thought sent a pang through your chest. What would you tell her? The idea of saying Rafe’s name out loud made your stomach twist. But was it right to hide the truth? 

Your eyes shifted to JJ, who was now walking hand in hand with Liliana, her little giggles filling the room. JJ raised his arms in mock triumph, shouting, “Pogue for life!” 

You rolled your eyes at his antics but couldn’t suppress a smile. JJ had his way of turning any moment into something fun, and you let him. This was their time, a little world just for the two of them to share. 

Still, you couldn’t ignore the impact JJ had on Liliana’s life. He wasn’t just a friend or a fun uncle—he was a loving guide. But would that be enough? Would his presence fill the gap in Liliana’s heart when the questions came? 

Or worse—would she misinterpret his role in her life? Would she see him not as an uncle figure, but as a father? 

Someday, Liliana would see other kids with their parents. She would want to compare, to understand. When she noticed the difference—that she didn’t have a mom and dad like the others—what would she feel? Would she long for something you couldn’t give her? 

As Liliana’s laughter mingled with JJ’s playful banter, your thoughts continued to churn. But amidst the worry, one thing was clear: you would do everything in your power to be there for her. And so would JJ. Of that, you had no doubt. 

“Hey, you good?” JJ’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. 

You looked up to see him guiding Liliana as she toddled toward you, her tiny hands gripping his fingers tightly. A smile crept onto your face despite yourself. 

“Come to Mommy,” you encouraged Liliana softly, your voice light with laughter. She babbled something in return, her tone cheerful as ever. 

JJ winked at you, clearly proud of their progress. “Little Pogues never give up, you know,” he said, lifting Liliana slightly and twirling her in the air. 

In that moment, the dark cloud of your worries lifted, if only briefly. JJ’s boundless energy and Liliana’s infectious joy silenced the unease in your heart. Her delighted giggle as she clapped her tiny hands filled the room with warmth, and you couldn’t help but join in the laughter. 

These moments, you realized, were precious beyond measure. The future remained uncertain, but this—this love, this warmth—was everything. And for now, that was enough. 

Three Years Old

The backyard glowed softly in the warm light of a summer evening. The table had been beautifully set, laden with delicious dishes that made the scene feel like a small celebration. Over in the corner of the yard, Liliana was busy playing with little flowers. She gathered daisies into her tiny hands, attempting to craft a small bouquet while occasionally pausing to marvel at the bugs crawling nearby. 

For her, bugs were still a fascinating mystery. 

JJ stood in the middle of the yard, holding a bottle of lemonade, shaking it lightly as he exclaimed, “Wait a minute, hold on! You’re telling me this now? You—my childhood best friend—are actually planning to get married? Like, for real? This is happening?” 

Pope, his hands casually tucked in his pockets, smiled with quiet confidence. “I mean… yeah. The time just felt right. Who here didn’t see this coming?” He glanced around at the three of you, and you shrugged in response. 

You honestly weren’t surprised. Cleo and Pope had practically been living like a married couple for ages. Sharing a house, sharing a life—the only thing missing had been rings on their fingers. And now, even that seemed to be taken care of. 

Turning to Cleo, who stood beside you with an unmistakable sparkle in her eyes, you reached out and clasped her hands. Rising from your seat, you pulled her into a tight hug. “Congratulations, babe. But let’s be real—I knew this was only a matter of time.” 

Cleo laughed, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. You adored her, truly. As you pulled back, she smoothed her hair with a smile. “Thank you,” she murmured, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, “Honestly, if he hadn’t proposed soon, he was about to start sleeping on the couch.” 

Both of you laughed, returning to your seats as JJ continued to hold court in the middle of the yard. He’d definitely had a bit to drink—not enough to be drunk, of course, especially not with Liliana around—but just enough to be fully basking in the moment. 

JJ flopped backward dramatically, as if falling into an invisible chair. For a split second, you almost reached out to catch him. “No, no, this has to be a joke,” he said, pointing at Cleo with exaggerated suspicion. “Because the Pope I know? He doesn’t do serious. And now we’re talking about marriage? Cleo, are you sure?” 

Without missing a beat, Cleo smacked him lightly on the head, earning an exaggerated yelp from JJ. 

“Hey! That hurt!” he protested, rubbing the spot dramatically. 

“Good,” Cleo shot back. “Maybe it’ll knock some sense into you.” 

JJ raised an eyebrow at her, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face. “Oh, is that what you think?” he teased, leaning closer to you for backup, clearly trying to rile you up too. 

Without hesitation, you pushed his face away with your hand, rolling your eyes as you grabbed a dessert from the table. A small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. JJ, ever the entertainer, turned his attention back to Cleo, who was now watching the two of you with a look that was… curious. Maybe even amused. 

You caught the glance and quickly shifted your focus elsewhere, pretending not to notice. Your eyes landed on Liliana, who was still engrossed in her flower-gathering mission. Now, though, you realized she’d made more than one bouquet—the two little bundles of daisies on the ground made your heart swell with pride. 

Meanwhile, Cleo crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow at JJ. Her gaze darted between the two of you. “Look at this,” she said, her tone teasing. “Pope might actually be the most mature one here tonight.” 

“Wow, okay,” JJ said, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll give you that, Cleo. But I’ve gotta say—you’re a saint for putting up with him. Marrying Pope? That’s a big commitment,” he joked, grinning. 

Cleo tilted her head, a playful glint in her eye. “Oh, no doubt about it,” she replied, nodding as if in agreement. 

You laughed at their banter, thinking how these friends, once JJ’s alone, now felt like your family too. Thanks to him, yes, but still—there was no denying how much you adored them. 

The cheerful mood seemed to envelop everyone. Even Liliana, who had been absorbed in her flowers, perked up at the sound of JJ’s laughter. She toddled over to the group, holding out one of her bouquets to Pope. “This is for you,” she said, her tiny voice filled with pride. 

Pope crouched down, taking the bouquet with wide eyes. “Wow, thank you, little lady,” he said warmly. It was one of those heart-melting moments that left everyone smiling. 

She went on to distribute her bouquets to the rest of you, looking so proud of her work. 

Then, tugging at JJ’s pant leg, she said, “The flowers we saw the other day aren’t here.” She was referring to the pink flowers you’d noticed on a walk. JJ scooped her up with ease, lifting her high into the air. “How about tomorrow, we go find some of those for you, Lily?” he said, grinning as her face lit up with joy. He followed up with a series of playful kisses, her laughter ringing out like music. 

For a few minutes, the evening revolved entirely around her. But as the hour grew later, it became clear it was time to start wrapping things up. While Pope and JJ entertained Liliana with a game of make-believe involving her dolls, Cleo jumped in to help you clear the table. 

Missing an opportunity to spend a moment with her? Never. 

“She’s such a sweet kid,” Cleo said, her tone warm as she started washing the dishes. 

You smiled, nodding as you packed leftovers into containers. “Thank you. She adores you, by the way. Honestly, I think she’s smitten.” 

Cleo’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “Well, the feeling’s mutual,” she said, her voice soft. It was a small moment, but it spoke volumes, the kind of quiet connection that reminded you just how lucky you were to have her—and everyone else—here.

“Not like his father—thank God for that.” You couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t a particularly joyful smile, but the fact that Liliana didn’t resemble him in any way brought you some comfort. You didn’t know much about him anymore, not really. But the thought of even a part of your daughter resembling Rafe was enough to make your chest tighten.

“How’s he doing?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it. You hadn’t meant to ask. It wasn’t that you cared—it was just… curiosity. You wondered how he was holding up, what kind of life he was leading. 

Still, it felt like a ridiculous question. You were about to tell Cleo to just forget it. 

“Same as always,” she muttered nonchalantly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. She seemed to understand why you’d asked, even though you hadn’t explained. “We all grew up. Everyone’s got their thing going on now. I don’t even know if most people still bother showing up to parties. He’s running his dad’s business now. I barely see him.”

You didn’t know how to feel. As you packed leftovers into a container, you took a deep breath. What had you even expected to hear? At least he had finally gotten what he wanted.

He was happy, and you were too. Apart, but still happy. In the end, that was all that mattered. 

Whether he still harbored anything for you, you couldn’t say. Your feelings for him felt… dulled, as if they’d been packed away and forgotten. Since Liliana had become the center of your universe, things like dating or romance didn’t even register. And you didn’t miss them. Liliana was still young; she needed you.

Maybe that’s why any notion of love, of attraction, felt so foreign now. 

“This is normal, love. Whatever it is you’re feeling—it’s normal.” Cleo’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned toward her, realizing you’d been staring blankly at the container in your hands. You blinked a few times, grounding yourself. 

Of course it was normal. 

You pushed your hair back and gave Cleo a nod of agreement as you snapped the lid onto the container and placed it in the fridge. When you turned back around, Cleo was suddenly closer. 

“You know,” she started, her tone shifting to something more teasing, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen JJ like this. He’s really changed. The difference between him back then and now? Night and day.” 

You were confused by the abrupt topic change, but you didn’t comment. Instead, your gaze drifted toward the backyard. Through the glass doors, you could see Pope, JJ, and Liliana playing together. 

“He’s good for you two, just like you’re good for him.” Cleo’s voice was softer now, almost like she was trying to coax a reaction out of you.

Your eyes lingered on JJ, watching him scoop Liliana into his arms and pepper her head with kisses. One of his hands was always hovering protectively near her, ready to catch her if she stumbled. A small smile crept onto your lips.

“Is it just me, or is there… something going on?” Cleo’s sly tone snapped your attention back to her so quickly, you almost got whiplash. Her expression was amused, her brow arched, and that same unreadable look was back in her eyes.

“What? Something going on?” Your voice was a mix of disbelief and nervous laughter. 

Cleo stepped back with a shrug, her lips pursed in mock innocence. Meanwhile, your eyebrows shot higher with every second. 

“I’m just saying!” she exclaimed, raising her hands as if she were completely innocent. The smile tugging at her lips told a different story, though. “A girl’s gotta point out what she sees.” She leaned casually against the counter, her eyes fixed on you with way too much amusement. 

“Especially when there are two people too blind to see it themselves.” Her tone was light, teasing, but the implication hit you like a ton of bricks. 

Your jaw dropped. “What? No—no, no.” You shook your head, the words spilling out before you even knew what you were saying. “That’s not… Cleo, come on.” 

She laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. You stepped closer, almost desperate to make her stop. “Cleo, no. Just—no.”

The idea made you feel strangely unsettled. JJ? You and JJ? That was absurd. You were friends, and that was it. You’d always been friends, nothing more. 

Cleo grabbed a dirty plate and turned toward the sink, seemingly unbothered by your protests. You leaned against the counter, trying to find the words to convince her. 

“We’re friends,” you said, your voice firm but a little too quick. “That’s all. For three—no, almost four years—we’ve lived together. That’s it. JJ and I are just friends.”

Cleo turned her head sharply, and for a second, her movement startled you into taking a step back. Her eyebrow arched higher, almost disappearing into her hairline. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. Cleo’s knowing gaze held you in place like a spotlight. 

JJ and you were friends. Always had been, always would be. The thought of anything else—it felt… wrong. Like it would betray everything you’d built together over the years. 

Cleo’s smirk only widened as she watched you flounder. “I—” you started, but nothing else came out.

The sound of the door opening made you jump. Your eyes darted toward it, and there they were—JJ, holding Liliana’s hand. For a split second, you felt like a teenager caught doing something wrong by their parents. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Cleo’s amused smile. You ignored it. 

“She said she had to pee,” JJ explained, nudging Liliana gently forward. You quickly stepped toward your daughter. 

“Yes,” Liliana confirmed, clutching her doll in one hand. “I have to pee.” 

“I’ll handle it,” you said, smiling at JJ. But when his gaze met yours, you suddenly felt... weird. Cleo’s earlier comments were still fresh in your mind, and now, any interaction between you and JJ felt like it carried a weight it hadn’t before. 

“I can take care of it—it’s no big deal,” JJ said with a casual shrug. He glanced down at Liliana, then placed his free hand lightly on your back. That simple gesture, one that had never bothered you before, now felt oddly charged. 

You hated it. 

This had never felt strange before. Nothing had changed—except Cleo’s remarks, which had now lodged themselves in your brain. Thanks a lot, Cleo. Really. 

“No, no. I’ve got it,” you said a bit too quickly. You saw JJ about to insist again, but you bent down and scooped Liliana into your arms before he could say anything more. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

Even his presence now made you uncomfortable—not because of anything he was doing, but because your mind kept wandering into territory it had no business being in. 

You and JJ were friends. Just friends. Imagining him kissing you, or holding you in a way that felt too intimate, felt like a betrayal of that friendship. And you were sure of that. 

“She’s got it, JJ,” Cleo’s sly tone cut in, and you took the opportunity to bolt with Liliana. You just needed a minute. Some space to clear your head. Surely, if you could shake off these ridiculous thoughts, everything would go back to normal. 

“Go grab Pope and get in here,” Cleo called out behind you. “My back’s killing me. Your turn.” 

Thanks a lot, Cleo. Really.

Three Year Old

The living room was dimly lit, a soft glow creating a calm atmosphere. You’d seized the opportunity of Liliana sleeping to make yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Meanwhile, JJ was pacing the room nervously, shoving his hands in and out of his pockets. He wore a pair of jeans and a simple shirt, but it was clear he wasn’t comfortable. 

JJ adjusted his shirt collar, his chest rising and falling like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. Do I really need to do this? he wondered. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go on this date; it was more like he was searching for an excuse not to. A noise from behind snapped him out of his thoughts. 

You peeked out from the kitchen with a smile, setting your cup on the table. “JJ, relax. It’s just a date, not a job interview.” His stress was written all over his face. 

It’s just a date. It isn’t like he’ll marrying the girl tonight. 

JJ stopped in his tracks, frowning. One hand reached up to rub his chin as if he was still weighing his options. Honestly, he looked ready to ditch his outfit, pull on something comfortable, and settle in for a movie night at home. He just needed one signal, one sign to justify staying—and he would. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “This feels stupid. I mean… it’s something a coworker set up. I don’t even know the woman.” 

You leaned casually against the edge of the table, shrugging. This wasn’t the end of the world. He’d go, spend a couple of hours out, and if he liked her? Great. If not? He’d move on. It wasn’t like you were going to stop him. What were you supposed to say, anyway? Hey JJ, I don’t go on dates, so you shouldn’t either?

Ridiculous.

You had your reasons. Expecting him to share them was absurd. It’s not like you two had ever talked about dating or relationships. Not seriously, anyway. Although, you were pretty sure he’d had his fair share of one-night stands. You weren’t naive; the nights he came home late and went straight for the shower said enough. But what could you do? Judge him for it? He was in his mid-twenties, for God’s sake.

It wasn’t your business. If he needed that, he needed it. Just because you didn’t do it didn’t mean he shouldn’t. Especially when you two were… nothing. 

Damn it, Cleo. You wouldn’t normally spiral into these thoughts. 

By “normally,” you meant before that night Cleo talked to you. Before then, these kinds of thoughts were off-limits, a red line you didn’t cross. Now here you were, dissecting JJ’s sex life. 

Of course, he could do whatever he wanted. Why wouldn’t he? 

It’s not like he needed your permission. 

Not that you didn’t have your own needs. But after years of going without, you weren’t exactly itching to jump into something casual. You didn’t want to leave your house, leave your daughter, and come back having spent the night with someone who didn’t mean anything to you. 

Maybe someday, when Liliana was older—maybe you’d be ready then. But not now. Not while she was just three years old. 

JJ’s nervous pacing snapped you out of your thoughts, and you cleared your throat. These ridiculous ideas running through your head were driving you crazy. He just needed to leave already so you could look at him like a friend again. “And that’s exactly why you should go. Who knows? You might actually have a good time. And at the very worst,” you said, pausing for dramatic effect, “you call me, and I’ll come rescue you.” 

JJ laughed a little, his shoulders relaxing. “You’re a real hero,” he replied with a smirk, running a hand through his hair. He licked his lips thoughtfully before glancing at you again. “But if I do call you, will you actually come?” 

You rolled your eyes. Was he seriously asking? “Of course I would. But not without letting you suffer a little first,” you teased. In reality, you’d hop in your car without a second thought—even though he had a car—and you’d go full drama mode if needed. Just for your friend. Yes, friend.

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “If it comes to that, I’ll call. Promise.” He wandered around the room, checking to make sure he had everything. But as you watched him, something about it made you feel off. The idea of JJ going on a date with someone else felt… unsettling. You’d spent years side by side, and he’d never really left your orbit. Still, you were happy for him. 

At least, you thought you were. 

When he leaned down to kiss the top of your head before heading out, your eyes instinctively closed. He did it so casually, like it was nothing. But you couldn’t stop yourself from reading into it. Again. Thanks a lot, Cleo. 

A few minutes later, JJ was out the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. And oh, how you hated being alone with them. Your mind always found the most nonsensical things to obsess over. JJ was a welcome distraction, and now that he was gone, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. 

Because thinking made everything feel… weird. 

Even though he has his own house, even though he paid the rent every month, he practically lived at your place. You had suggested it, and you didn’t regret it or find it awkward at all. But now, after Cleo’s comments, everything felt… suffocating. Like you were looking at your dynamic through a distorted lens. 

Your eyes drifted to the clock, the hands moving painfully slow. How much time had passed? You couldn’t tell. Your hands tightened around your coffee mug without you realizing it. You hated thinking. You didn’t want to think. You wished Liliana would wake up early, even if it wasn’t time yet. Anything to distract you. 

Who’s he meeting? What’s she like? The questions popped into your head unbidden, and you immediately despised them. Why do I care? you thought bitterly, shrugging to yourself. “What does it even matter?” you muttered under your breath. But the curiosity inside you wasn’t so easily silenced. 

When your coffee ran out, you didn’t hesitate to pour another cup. Maybe you needed some fresh air or something. These thoughts swirling around in your head were absurd, and you knew it. You blamed it on the lingering toxicity of Cleo’s words from months ago. Ever since that conversation, it felt like you’d been poisoned.

As the hours ticked by, the silence in the living room grew heavier. Every passing second transformed into an expectation—would JJ send a message? You kept your phone close, glancing at every notification with urgency. But there was nothing. 

You were ready, though—ready to rush out the door if JJ sent you a single text asking to be rescued. Or even, as he mentioned, if he called. 

At some point, you couldn’t take it anymore and went to the kitchen, fixing yourself a snack. You tried reading a few pages of a book, even made a couple of trips upstairs to check if Liliana was still asleep. But your mind kept drifting back to JJ and his date. For a fleeting moment, you thought, “Maybe it’s going badly.” That thought didn’t bring relief, though—it unsettled you. 

No, you’d be happier if things were going well. JJ’s happiness mattered. If he’d found someone who suited him, you’d convince him to pursue it. Maybe then, the tension between you could finally dissolve. But—then you wouldn’t see him as often. Neither you nor Liliana. Still, you knew his love for Liliana wouldn’t fade. 

As the night wore on, you kept yourself busy in the kitchen, but your eyes constantly flicked to your phone. No calls, no texts. You were dying to know how the date was going but fought hard to suppress that curiosity. Even after putting your phone on silent and leaving it on the table, you found yourself picking it up to check. 

Close to midnight, the front door creaked open. A few sounds of stumbling followed, grabbing your attention. JJ walked in, and it was immediately clear how much he’d had to drink. He was swaying slightly, the familiar exhaustion in his eyes telling you everything about his night. You were curled up on the couch, a book in hand, but as soon as you heard him, you looked up. 

It hadn’t gone terribly—that much you were sure of. He was drunk out of his mind and—he hadn’t called. At least his demeanor suggested nothing had happened between them—enough for you to focus on your own business. Still, you couldn’t help but note that if the roles were reversed and you’d hooked up with someone, you’d probably have stayed the night at their place. 

Crossing your arms, you watched as he wrestled with his shoes. “Well, since you made it home, I guess it wasn’t that bad,” you said, your tone laced with mockery to mask the mess of feelings churning inside. You hated yourself for saying it but couldn’t stop. 

JJ let out a laugh as he struggled with his shoes. “Actually… it was awful,” he slurred. You watched him stumble toward you, surprised by his response. You’d expected him to say it went well—but here was the truth. 

His eyes were red, and you couldn’t even guess how much he’d drunk. He dropped onto the couch beside you, head tilting back as he let out a long sigh. “She was sweet, but… I don’t know. Boring. And also…” He paused, his head lolling slightly to the side. His lips parted, and the smell of alcohol wafted over. “She wasn’t as beautiful as you.” 

Your mouth fell open in shock. You tried to form a response, but no words came out. JJ, meanwhile, seemed to be watching your every reaction, almost as if savoring it, his drunken gaze locked on you. Clearing your throat, you fought to dismiss his words. 

You were definitely going to kill Cleo.

Smiling, you raised an eyebrow and said, “Care to share the details?” in an overly casual tone. 

JJ leaned forward, reaching for the coffee table. When you realized he was going for your water glass, you handed it to him, watching to ensure he drank. “Rachel thought I was—married,” he said, breaking into a laugh before taking a long sip of water, as if he’d been parched all night. 

The words hit like a bombshell, and your eyebrows shot up as your eyes widened in disbelief. You hadn’t expected that. Now you were even more curious, but JJ’s water-drinking intermission couldn’t have come at a worse time. “Wait, what? She thought you were married? Why?” 

For a few seconds, you just stared at him, lost for words. JJ, now done with the water, clumsily placed the glass back on the table and pulled his phone out of his pocket with some difficulty. He held it out to you before slumping back into the couch. As the screen lit up, it became clear. His wallpaper was a photo of you and Liliana hugging. 

“She saw that and said something like, ‘You left your family to come here?’ Then she lost it.” He spoke nonchalantly, tossing his head back again. His eyes were nearly closed, his speech slurred to the point of incoherence. 

Pressing your lips together, you held back laughter. You wanted to say something, but no words came. JJ misinterpreted your silence, continuing, “Honestly… it doesn’t really matter. Because…” He paused again, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not more important than this.” 

Following his gaze, you saw he was staring at the wallpaper on his phone. Your heart skipped a beat. JJ’s words were purely alcohol-induced—you were sure of it. Composing yourself quickly, you forced a small smile. “You’re going to have a killer headache tomorrow. Let’s get you to bed.” 

Helping him up, you steadied his swaying form. Even though he insisted on giving Liliana a goodnight kiss, you managed to convince him otherwise and ushered him to his room. 

Once he was in bed, you pulled the blanket over him and stood there for a moment, watching him. His face was peaceful, utterly vulnerable in sleep. In that moment, you felt like you understood him more than ever. 

With a head full of swirling thoughts, you quietly left the room, closing the door behind you. But you knew—you wouldn’t forget tonight anytime soon.

Four Year Old

Outer Banks was a tangled web of memories for you. Going back wasn’t just about revisiting a place; it was stepping into a time capsule, into a life filled with complicated, conflicting emotions. The last few years with JJ and Liliana had taught you that no matter how safe you felt in the present, leaving parts of yourself behind was never easy. Outer Banks was the epicenter of your past struggles, losses, and, oddly enough, some of your most beautiful memories. 

The morning Liliana excitedly babbled about the upcoming wedding, you found yourself waking up with those very thoughts swirling in your mind. JJ was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, laughing as he answered Liliana’s barrage of questions. To her, the idea of attending Pope and Cleo’s wedding was an adventure, something to look forward to. For you, it was harder to embrace. While you were happy for your friends, the thought of returning to Outer Banks weighed heavy on you. 

“Let’s think this through,” JJ said, leaning against the counter, his gaze steady as if he could see the unease written all over your face. “I know this is tough for you, but it’s just a few days. I promise we’ll come straight back after.” 

You tightened your grip on your coffee mug and looked at him. Of course, it would be easier for him—you knew that. But going back there with a child made everything feel different. People would do the math. When they asked Liliana’s age, the unspoken questions would surface. “Is it really that simple?” you asked quietly. “Just go, smile, and pretend the past doesn’t exist?” 

They’d ask about Liliana’s father. Not just to you—but to her, too. The funny thing was, JJ had taken on the father figure role in her life so seamlessly that you were terrified she might actually mention his name when people asked. 

And then there was Rafe. The idea of him seeing you and Liliana again filled you with dread. You’d never imagined taking Liliana to Outer Banks; it always felt like you’d stay away forever. But now, with Cleo’s wedding, there was no choice. You wanted to be there for your friends, of course—but the thought of it all was overwhelming. 

JJ’s eyes softened as he picked up on your worry. Shrugging, he stepped closer until he was right in front of you. When his hands wrapped gently around yours, your eyes met. His thumb brushed the back of your hand in soothing circles, his voice calm and steady. “It’s not easy, I know. But we’re not going back for the past. This is about the present—about today. And we’re going together. Liliana’s coming with us. I’ll be with you every second if you need me. You trust me, don’t you?” 

The answer was so obvious it wasn’t even a question. You trusted him with everything—your life, Liliana’s life. You knew he’d protect you both no matter what. Without hesitation, you nodded. “Of course.” The words tumbled out quickly, your voice firm, as if to erase any doubt. JJ’s smile lit up his face, warm and reassuring. 

Liliana’s little voice broke in suddenly. She was tugging on JJ’s pant leg, her wide eyes sparkling with excitement. You noticed the toy she’d dropped on the floor and made a mental note to toss it into the bag. “Can I catch the wedding bouquet?” she asked, her words adorably slurred. You had to resist the urge to scoop her up and smother her with kisses—she was too cute for her own good. 

You found yourself smiling despite everything. Liliana’s joy was infectious, but beneath your smile, the unease lingered. Outer Banks wasn’t just a place; it was a collection of moments—lived experiences, shattered dreams, and wounds that never fully healed. 

“You might be a little young for that, sweetheart,” JJ teased with a grin. He shifted, letting go of one of your hands to scoop Liliana up, settling her on his hip. You watched as he kissed her chubby cheek, the affection in the gesture tugging at your heart. 

JJ must have sensed your inner turmoil because his tone shifted, turning serious as he looked at you again. His hand still held yours. “You know I’m here, right?” 

Those words settled something in your mind, quieting the chaos if only for a moment. There was always a layer of sincerity beneath JJ’s laid-back demeanor—a steadfastness that revealed itself when it mattered most. He wasn’t as careless as he often made himself out to be, especially not when it came to you. 

[writingstreetspirit]

All I Want For Solstice, (Is You)

Summary: What could possibly be better than celebrating Winter Solstice with your family?

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Shit ton of fluff, sappy feelings, pregnancy

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: I hope this pieces was alright, I’d thought it be finished a lot earlier this December since I started writing it in November. But my cat unexpectedly became sick and had to be put down so I’ve been taking time to mourn his passing as well as getting back the energy to write again. Anyways, I hope you all will have a wonderful Winter Holiday however you’re celebrating!

—

“We’re going to be late!” You hurried down the stairs as fast as you could in your, although low but still, heels. Scanning eyes searched for your handbag while simultaneously putting on the earrings that Azriel gifted you for your last birthday.

Azriel came out from the kitchen, a gift bag with the presents for your friends in hand. “Maybe a little. The others can survive our absence for a few minutes. Remember last Winter Solstice? Cassian and Nesta didn’t arrive until more than half an hour after everyone else.”

You huffed a breathless chuckle, grabbing for one of the warmer formal coats on the clothing rack in the hallway. “Yeah, and they’ll never hear the end of it. I’d rather not have a repeat of last year.”

Azriel, who was already dressed and ready to go outside, took a gentle hold of your upper arms. You halted to a stop at the sudden touch. “[Name], slow down, take a deep breath. You know that stress isn’t good for you.”

Breathing in deep through your nose and slowly releasing it through your mouth, you could feel the tightness in your shoulders loosen. Azriel smiled, gently squeezing his hands around your flesh. “Good, that’s better.”

Nodding, you slumped your head forward, resting your temple against your bondmate’s firm shoulder. “Sorry.”

Warm hands cupped your cheeks softly, tilting your head up so that he could look at you. Azriel’s hazel eyes held that warm and tender look that he only reserved for you, for the love of his life.

“Sweetheart, you never have to apologize for that. I just want you to be healthy and happy, the both of you.”

His hands instinctively left your cheeks to wander down your dress, settling over your swollen stomach, one lone shadow joining their master’s hands. You were well into the third and last trimester, and with just a few more weeks worth of time, the growing baby within you was to be born.

With it being your and Azriel’s first child, every single aspect of the pregnancy was completely new, both beautiful beyond words, and downright scary at times. While the both of you were ready and eager to welcome a little boy or girl, it is frightening thinking that someone so small and precious was to be brought into the world.

You sighed, leaning into the familiar and comforting touch. Azriel was always touching your belly ever since the news of a little life growing inside you were revealed, you're almost surprised they hadn’t left marks on your skin yet. His shadows were not much better, if Azriel couldn’t be near you for any reason, several of them would remain beside you to watch over and protect.

”We’re both okay, how could we not be when we have such a doting male taking care of us?” As if in agreement with your words, a foot kicked your stomach, right under one of Azriel’s palm. A smile grew on your lips, and Azriel downright beamed at the feel. You cooed, gazing lovingly at your round stomach, ”Yeah, isn’t that right, little one?”

Another kick, this time firmer and the small laugh that escaped from Azriel sounded a little choked. He leaned down, pressing a long kiss against where his hands had been seconds before. With his lips still pressed against you, Azriel whispered words that you had a hard time hearing. But the way he spoke them, the affection dripping from his voice, you knew they were made of love.

After a few more moments, Azriel seemed to be able to tear himself away from your belly, the shadow retreating to their master. Once back up on his feet, he leaned down to press a slow kiss on your lips. You couldn’t help but melt against your bandmate, arms wrapping themself around his neck to keep him close. The need after breath was what finally made you have to pull back from those alluring lips.

”Are you ready to leave?” Azriel mumbled, aiding your limbs in to your coat and buttoned it up. He pressed a kiss against your temple, a strong forearm sneaking behind and round your waist. At your smile and nod, the two of you opened the door and stepped out into the snow.

The Townhouse was bustling with activity when Azriel and you arrived. Loud talking, laughter and the clinking of silverware in the kitchen greeted your ears immediately after the door closed behind the two of you. Shrugging off the small amount of snow that had collected on your coat and in your hair, Azriel helped you out of the coat as well as his own.

With his arm wrapped around your waist, Azriel and you stepped further into the warm house and into the kitchen. Feyre, who was leaning against the counter beside Rhysand, noticed your arrival first. She threw herself over to you, giving you a hug. “Azriel, [Name]! Welcome, the food’s almost ready!”

“We’re not late, are we?” You asked upon being released, immediately being enveloped in a hug by Rhys, then Cassian, followed by Nesta, Mor, and lastly Elain. Amren had unfortunately been busy elsewhere and unable to join your family for celebration.

“No, no, you’re fine. Cassian and Nesta just arrived minutes earlier.” Rhysand reassured you, pulling away from hugging his fellow Illyrian brother. Azriel gave you a pointed, but tender look, as if saying ‘told you so’. You rolled your eyes at him, a somewhat sheepish smile tugging on your lips.

Azriel huffed, pressing his lips against your temple. His arm creeped back around your side, his hand resting against your stomach as he so usually did the last couple months. You leaned back against his steady form with a content smile.

Cassian, having seen the whole scene, let out a snort and smirked at Azriel. “You’re so wiped, Az.”

Your mate’s eyes that had been locked on you hardened a bit in warning, directing his gaze at Cassian. Feyre and Azriel stifled a giggle when Nesta’s hand made contact with the back of her mate's head, a tsked ‘idiot’ escaping her mouth.

The smirk remained, but his eyes gave away to gentleness. ”On a serious note, we’re so happy for you two. How are you and the baby doing [Name]? Not long left till your little one is here.”

You smiled, your own hand settling on top of your husband’s on your stomach. “We’re doing great Cass. Just a couple more weeks before you get to meet your niece or nephew.”

“From what I’ve gathered, Azriel seems certain that it’s a girl.” Rhysand said, sharing a look with you. That was indeed true, whenever Azriel would speak with you about your unborn child, he would always call them a girl. Whether it was about the nursery or baby clothes or what color their eyes would have, the Shadowsinger thought you two would have a daughter.

You knew your mate would be ecstatic no matter if the baby would turn out to be a boy or girl, but it did secretly warm your heart imagining Azriel with a daughter. But you would have to wait for the birth to find out if your mate was right or not.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait to find out.” You said wistfully. Azriel hummed, a loving smile on his face. He leaned down, pressing a brief kiss on your lips, whispering low for only you to hear. “I can’t wait to meet her, or him.”

Feyre smiled at your comment, gazing at her own mate before looking at the stove. “Yes, indeed we will. Anyways, the food should be ready. Let’s eat!”

The following hour was spent at the dining table, surrounded by your closest friends and family eating a delicious meal and delightful drinks. Cheeks almost sore from smiling and belly full and content, everybody eventually migrated to the living room to land on the couches and armchairs.

After the gifts were given, received and opened, Azriel sat on an armchair that was appropriately sized for Illyrian wings with you sitting with your back pressed against his chest. The sun had already gone down and the snow fell heavy outside, the energy from the day had been all but spent. In your wonderful mate’s arms, you couldn’t help but to be dowsing.

“Did you have fun today, sweetheart?” Azriel asked low, just for you to hear. You nodded, tipping your head back to look at him, a slow and sleepy smile spreading across your face. “This was the best Solstice I’ve ever celebrated.”

A warm and tender hand caressed your flushed cheek. His other hand rested on your belly, thumb swiping back and forth against the stretched skin. A couple of his shadows flowed across the skin that was not covered by his hand, curious and delighted by their soon to be new friend.

The baby within was peacefully sleeping after having kicked the whole time that the gifts had been opened. “I’m glad that you feel the same. I take it that we should be heading home soon?”

You hummed, leaning back further in Azriel’s warm embrace, face nuzzling deeper into his shoulder blade. “Not just yet. Stay like this for a little while longer, your comfortable.”

Azriel chuckled but tightened his arms around you, leaning his cheek against the top of your head. “Whatever my mate wants, she gets.”

[starfilmz]

close to you | rafe cameron

summary: you and rafe are together and no matter how long you two have been together, he still gets jealous. even if you’re admirers are 80% girls.

a/n: basically the jealousy trope but girls. bc i love girls :D

navigation

rafe cameron wasn’t the type to get jealous. at least, that’s what he told himself, day in and day out. but when it came to you—his girlfriend, the one person who had him wrapped around her finger—he couldn’t help but feel a pang of something every time a group of girls swarmed around you.

it was always the same. the way they’d giggle, whisper behind their hands, and act like they had some secret world he wasn’t a part of. he didn’t mind the guys; they were easy enough to brush off. a few sharp words and they’d back off, retreating into the background where they belonged. but the girls? it was different. they didn’t look at him like they were trying to size him up or steal him away. no, they acted like he wasn’t even there.

and that, to rafe, was a problem.

“you look good today, yn,” a girl would say as she sidled up beside you, eyes lingering just a little too long.

"thanks," you'd smile, not noticing the way rafe’s jaw clenched. you were always polite, always kind to everyone, but it did little to ease the tension in his chest.

he’d stand there, arms crossed, waiting for the moment to pass. but it never did.

“i can’t wait to see you at the next surf competition, yn! i’m sure you’ll crush it like always.” one of the girls would chirp, grinning like she had just made the most profound statement in the world.

rafe’s fingers dug into his palms as he glanced over at you, a possessive, yet proud look flashing across his face. he had to remind himself that it was because of you that all these girls were so…obsessed. you had that effect on people, on both guys and girls alike. it didn’t matter how many times he told himself he should be happy for you, that you deserved all this attention—there was still that sharp edge of irritation whenever you were in the spotlight.

“yeah, can’t wait to see you in action again,” another girl added, leaning in a little too close to you.

rafe resisted the urge to step in, though the thought of it brought an all-too-familiar feeling of frustration. you weren’t just his girlfriend—everyone knew that by now. yet somehow, you seemed to be this magnet for attention. people loved you. especially the girls.

but it wasn’t just the compliments or the giddy talk of your next competition that bothered him. it was the fact that these girls seemed to have no problem showing up at boneyard parties just to catch a glimpse of you.

“i heard yn's gonna be at the party tonight. i’m so excited!” one of them said to her friend, eyes practically sparkling. “i’ll be there early so i can get a good spot by the bonfire.”

rafe rolled his eyes, his hands curling into fists. you didn’t even notice them, didn’t care about any of this. you were just trying to enjoy yourself, trying to live your life, but it was like everyone wanted a piece of it. and most of all, they wanted a piece of you.

finally, rafe couldn’t hold it in any longer. as the girls continued to talk and laugh around you, he walked up, his presence undeniably commanding. he slid his arm around your waist, pulling you close, his face a study in controlled frustration.

“let’s go,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. the girls hesitated, looking from him to you with a mix of confusion and intrigue.

“rafe, don’t,” you whispered softly, reaching up to touch his arm, trying to calm him down.

he gave you a tight smile, but there was something unspoken in his eyes. his possessiveness wasn’t something he liked, but when it came to you, it was almost uncontrollable.

“i’ll catch you guys later,” he said, his tone colder than usual, and with that, he guided you away from the crowd.

as soon as you were out of earshot, you let out a soft laugh. “you’re a little dramatic, you know that?”

“i don’t like them around you,” he admitted, his voice low but serious. “it’s not like i think you’ll do anything, yn. but you’re mine. and i hate how they act like you’re some prize to be won.”

you raised an eyebrow at him, a teasing smile on your lips. “and i’m supposed to be okay with you making a scene every time some girl talks to me?”

“you’re my girl,” rafe repeated, his eyes narrowing with that familiar intensity. “why would i want anyone else thinking they can just get close?”

you shook your head, a playful smile curving your lips. “you know i don’t belong to anyone, rafe. but i’m with you. only with you.”

he snorted, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. “that’s not the point. the point is—i’m not sharing, not now, not ever.”

“we’ll see about that,” you teased, pushing his shoulder lightly as you continued to walk away from the crowds.

rafe couldn’t help but laugh, even though he was still a little irritated. at least, for now, you were his—walking beside him, oblivious to the crowd and the chaos you left in your wake. he could live with that, for now.

“just don’t let them get too close next time,” he grumbled, eyes scanning the horizon as if daring anyone to make another move.

you rolled your eyes, but there was something in your expression that softened. “okay, rafe. i’ll try. but i can’t promise anything.”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips said it all. for now, at least, he had you all to himself. and that, for him, was more than enough.

[imaginaryttowns]

sevika heacanons because i'm insane abt her (general and romance-related)

(mention of sex/aftercare but no smut/nsfw/lemon/whatever here)

the card games and the cards themselves have been with Sevika since she was a little girl. she has nebulous memories of a childhood that once was, where her and her mother are playing solitaire at a small table together. she doesn't seem to talk about much from that time in her life other than that. she will get defensive if you press her about these memories.

the gambling, however, started when she was a pit fighter, in her early teens. Sevika's father was the well-known heel of a pit fighting ring, who entertained crowds of wealthier Zaunites and even more corrupt Piltovans with a suave demeanor that Sevika envied, despised, and attempted to emulate all at the same time, following in her father's footsteps for those formative years of her life. needless to say many of Sevika's current habits started during those years. in that world, one had to blend in just enough to gain social favor yet stick out enough to maintain power, and she learned the name of the game quite early in life.

she has a missing molar from those days that she somehow recovered from the fight she lost it in. she now wears it on a pendant around her neck, always tucked underneath her shirts for safekeeping.

the first time you fiddle with it was while you were sitting her lap, most likely during aftercare. she's perturbed, almost offended. but as much as she tried, she couldn't bring herself to put you in your place. she decided silently that she didn't want to remove the warmth of your body from hers, and quickly got used to you fiddling with it. low-key doesn't even want to tell you it bothered her to begin with.

while moonshine and whiskey are her usual drinks of choice, this is only because they are the cheapest, most readily available alcoholic drinks in Zaun. they are by no means her favorite ones. no, her favorite drink is the bottle of imported habushu stowed away in the farthest corner of her kitchen cabinets, that she is fiercely protective over, only ever opening it for new year's day and anniversaries.

will never admit to anyone how much the habushu cost -- she is broke with expensive tastes, and this is the only splurge she allows herself regularly.

while Sevika is a regular at the brothel post-arm loss, she is not a John as most would expect. she's there to watch - watch the dancers, watch for any workers who need help with particularly invasive clients, always watching. the silent and strong sentinel. she does this without letting Silco know what she's up to. she knows how he feels about giving Babette any kind of business, but really could not care less.

"These people need protection. Enforcers ain't exactly kind to them," she tells him unapologetically the one time he caught her. he glared at her for a moment, grumbled something, waved her away dismissively, but knew better than to interfere. Deep down, he respected her reasoning and decided she was just so good at her job that her extracurricular activities were no business of his.

with all that mushy shit being said, brothels are also great places to gamble. people there are distracted, since they have their minds occupied with the 'merchandise' so brazenly advertised there. more distracted hedonists meant more wins for her, and more wins meant more cash, more notoriety, more fun. she likes to call these little visits her "bonuses" for good reason.

now back to the mushy shit. it is a common occurrence for her to show off her "bonuses" to you and only you, sometimes showering you in paper money if she's really feeling herself that time, smarmy grin always present. nothing makes her feel better than a big win.

"Mama's rich for now, baby. Anything you want, name it and it's yours." she says while making it rain on you one day. she won't take no for an answer. she enjoys being a provider, even in shallow ways. she'll take you to the jeweler's, clothing stores, pawn shops, and buy you whatever you point to if she has enough to justify the purchase.

loves, positively adores watching you get excited over a necklace or tchotchke you'd been eyeing for weeks finally become your personal property. it makes her feel proud, makes her so happy to see your eyes light up. won't say that part aloud, but you can tell she loves it by the way she keeps giving you these shopping trips and the way she looks at you in these moments with uncharacteristically soft eyes and a wide smile.

while she was not really big on PDA when the two of you first started dating, she warmed up to it over time. and boy, did she. now she was the main initiator for such displays. you practically live in her lap, and she would not have it any other way. she loves how warm your body is, and when you're cold she loves being the one to warm you up, often letting her arm activate just so the heat of the metal can warm her poncho cape before she drapes it over your shivering shoulders.

& that's all i got for nowwww!!! hello sevika nation pls lmk if y'all would be interested in more in the near future :))

[kissingmensbiceps]

Dirty Sheets ch.1 . . . Forgot your keys?

୨୧ summary: You were raised to be a good girl. With a strict lifestyle, college was a way to escape your small town and enter the real world. Sadly enough that meant bills upon bills, making it hard to fend for your own. That’s where Satoru Gojo came into your life. Your roommate, splitting the bills each month. You didn’t question what he did for work, and he didn’t question you. Sneaking around, doing such lewd things to rack up the bills, and secretly getting off on each other in the process.

୨୧ pairing: pornstar!Gojo x pornstar!reader

୨୧ wc: 1.9k (about a 8 minute read)

୨୧ warnings: 18+, fem!reader, smut, college au, f!ingering, jerking off, friends (?) to lovers, slow burn (upcoming), mentions of religion.

୨୧ a/n: Hi pretty babies this was just a little something that had been in my head for a while. I wanna turn it into a series but I’m not sure yet. Anyways happy reading :)

The door of your room was locked shut with extra care and serenity to block out any noise of the lewd, dirty acts going on behind. It was 9:00 pm, your roommate out of the house at some underground emo rock show—you didn’t really listen where Gojo said he was going, nor did you care. Instead, your mind was occupied and booked with the work you had to get done by the time he got home. Let’s just say it involved props, set up, and one hell of a pornographic moan to accomplish it.

Your laptop was propped up on your plush mattress, which was covered in fuzzy blankets—some of which Gojo had bought you last year for Christmas before things got rough between the two of you. It was sinful, to be making such content just to pay your half of the rent each month, doing it on the covers that he had bought you. No one else to see. Yet they were right under you in almost every video you made.

It was good money, though, and along side with your job as a bartender, money added up quick; pockets were heavy, your belly was full, and you had a little extra on yourself to do whatever.

And that usually consisted of going to the nearest sex shop in town and buying more things for your videos. Where you would store them? That was a problem for when you got home.

Clicking the big red “record” button on the screen, you get into position. You always got countless messages from men, mostly older, and even the occasional woman, and you who’d do whatever they asked. They sent the money and you got to work.

It was your dirty little secret, something no one knew about, something that no one would ever know about. You were a good girl. Coming from a strict Christian household, the youngest in the family, not even mentioning being the only girl in your family. Overprotective brothers and a pastor as your father. Of course no one would know, they wouldn’t suspect their sweet, innocent baby girl to do such disgusting things.

You flutter your eyes in a doe like manor into the camera, your eyes big and round as you slowly stick out your pink, wet tongue. Taking your pointer and middle finger together, pressing the pads of them softly onto the wet surface before closing your mouth around them, keeping eye contact the entire time. You swirl your hot tongue around your digits before taking them out with a pop.

Finally looking away from the camera, your eyes trail down, leading to where your clothed pussy rested gently on the bed. There was a noticeable wet spot through the lace, which you had made by playing and teasing yourself beforehand.

The warm fairy lights that strung along your room created a angel-like glow across your body, which was expected to be covered up head to toe, according to the way you were raised. It angled off your creamy, soft skin that was pleasurable to the eyes who would get their nasty and salacious hands on this film.

A cheeky small smile appears on your lips, feeling your heart speed up just slightly as you look at the camera through your thick lashes. You take your slippery, spit coated fingers and bring them down to your panties, going achingly slow for the viewer.

Finally you pull them to the side, dipping them into your soaking folds, feeling yourself up softly as you tilt your head back. Soft hums and whimpers escape your lips which were drawn back into your teeth. One finger slips into your warm cunt, curling it in just the right way. Slowly moving it in a steady speed, you add the second finger, making your jaw go slack.

You speed up your movements, making sounds that are a bit exaggerated—but they have to be right? You gently begin to ride your fingers like they were a girthy cock, who’s cock? You don’t have an answer, just an imagination and years worth of browsing through twitter and other porn websites under your belt.

It’s not long before you cum all over your fingers with a moan loud enough that Gojo could definitely hear from inside his bedroom, but he’s not here right now, is he? Panting softly, your brain registers that you’re still recording. You look back into the lens, and see yourself on the screen: flushed, disheveled, eyes half lidded to the point of dozing off, and fingers still halfway shoved in your spongy walls.

You pull them out, lick them clean like a cat licks her paws, before smiling softly once more at the camera. Saying a final message, you end the video and collapse onto your welcoming bed, cunt still sticky with your release.

You stare at the ceiling feeling a sense of guilt. Gods watching you. Is all that rang through your head, over and over like a bad headache that just wouldn’t go the fuck away. Shouldn’t swear either, sweetie, you know the rules in this house.

Your thoughts disperse from your clouded mind when your phone dings from beside you.

| | 9:24 P.M Gojo: omw home. open the door 4 me, lost my keys.

You sigh as you read his unwelcome message, this dudes always loosing his fucking keys. It was getting annoying at this point. At least you had a decent excuse to be a bit bitchy tonight.

| | 9:25 P.M You: okay.

You walk to the door with heavy footsteps, swinging it open to find a slightly tipsy Gojo with a bored expression on his dumb hot face. With a small huff you open it wider as he ducks down to walk through.

“Sure took ya long enough to answer the door.” He mutters, doesn’t bother to take his shoes off which you often pester him about, and continues his journey through the apartment.

“And maybe you shouldn’t have forgotten your keys-“

“—Lost actually.”

You glare at him which makes him crack an amused smile. “Right, my apologies for using the wrong terminology for your key predicament.”

He only smirks which makes you want to either punch it right off his gorgeous mouth or kiss it, haven’t made up your mind about that one yet. It was a daily battle between your annoyance of Satoru Gojo, or complete and utter desire.

“You’re in quite the mood this evening,” He comments as he sets down a brown paper bag on the kitchen island. “Almost makes me feel bad for ya.” He breaks open the staple sealed bag with a rip. “That was a joke by the way.”

“Haha, your like, just so funny! The funniest actually.” He rolls his eyes at your sarcastic comment which makes you smirk this time around as you sit on the other side of the island.

“Your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” He quips which makes you scoff. He pulls out the take out from the paper back and onto the counter, the smell of Chinese food making your mouth water.

“Oooh ouch that one hurt.” You respond to his joke as you secretly sniff out the food. All you wanted was a good meal after a tiring orgasam, but your stubborn attitude refuses to ask. “And for future reference, don’t make jokes involving my ass.”

“Why, ya a prude or somethin’?” Gojo turns around to grab a pair of chopsticks from a drawer.

“No. Gonna let me have a taste?” You nod your head to the box of lo mein that he had set on the counter.

He turns around. “Then why can’t I make jokes about your ass?” He stuffs the chopsticks into the box as he leans against the counter, completely ignoring your request.

“Because, Gojo, my ass is too good for you to be talked about.” You roll your eyes. “And it’s disgusting for you to even want to.”

“Your acting like a pruuude.” He says in a sing song voice, which was annoyingly good and pleasing to the ears. Gojo had a love for music, at least that’s your impression. By the multiple rock band t-shirts he owns and the underground band concerts he attends with his friends, it’s pretty easy to tell.

You only scoff and roll your eyes, something you did so often that it was a miracle that they didn’t get stuck that way. Pushing yourself off the counter you grab a bottle of water from the fridge “Goodnight, loser.”

“Night, princess.” You could hear the smug tone in his voice and mouth full of noodles, which makes you want to rip his vocal cords out but then you wouldn’t be able to hear the pretty noises he made late at night, whether that be his annoyingly good singing skills, or the ones he made while using his left hand.

“And find your fucking keys,” You call back. “Next time I ain’t letting you in.”

Gojo watched as you went to your room, fluffy pajamas pants making you look oh so soft and cuddly, making a perfect mental image to get off later. But he had business to take care of.

It’s not like he’d tell anyone (who wasn’t his closet friends because he enjoyed to brag) because then he’d get the label of “man whore”. And sadly as cool as it was in the men’s locker room to ramble on and on about the latest girl you had fucked, it wasn’t something you went and told other women.

That was one of the only things Gojo was good at besides making a girl have an actual pleasurable orgsam. It was who and when to tell. No girl willingly wants to have sex with a slut. Too many risks, physically and of course mentally. Man sluts never stay.

So instead of going out every night and finding some random hot chick to plant his seed and go along on his merry way, he decided to stay in and make content. Easy money, he just had to touch his cock (which he did multiple times anyway) make a few videos emphasizing his voice to either be more dominant or submissive and boom. Rent money is perfectly handled. Rest of the savings going to drinks at the clubs or parties he went to with Geto or Nanami when they could get him out the house.

He’d spoil himself by indulging on other people’s videos and smutty photos as well. He’d spend his sleepless nights searching the web for a new pretty baby to watch get herself off, picturing himself in bed with her, helping the poor thing out.

And of course Gojo never told you about his job. He wasn’t the fondest of you, and you weren’t the biggest fan of him either, but he didn’t want to destroy the innocence he thought you had.

But you both continued to make your content, racking up enough bills to move out of this shitty off-campus apartment but you never did. For what reason? You both liked the company. You liked the thought of sneaking around each other, secretly getting off on each other’s sacred body parts that were too private to actually explore.

You secretly got off to his desperate huffs of air and whiny breaths through the thin walls, cold fingers tracing your clit as you imagine that they were his.

Unbeknownst to you, he’d watch the faceless bodies on his own laptop, picturing your face on the heavenly body as he jerked off. Slowly moving his hand up and down his shaft, eyes shut tight as if they were glued to stay that way.His brain going into the dark depths that were only brought to the surface when he’d see you. His precious little roommate that just seemed so incredibly sweet, stepping into heaven and seeing her as God’s favorite angel.

[quarterlifekitty]

more medieval fantasy au time! reader whose life sucks and wont be missed by anyone in the present life suddenly finds herself back in time after blacking out and being mistaken for the assassin who was given orders to kill any of the cod boys (or price becos he's my hubby). cod boys/price decides to keep her under their watch closely in case she makes any more attempts to kill them. love myself some slowburn enemy to lover shite <3

Fun fact about me. I enjoy that shite, played out isekai manga/manwha trope where a girl gets reborn into the story of her favorite dating simulator except she’s reborn as the villainess and has to try to use her knowledge of the game to change the story and avoid dying to the heroine or one of her many devoted love interests. But often her sudden change in personality piques the interest of one of those love interests…. Here’s a very dark hentai with a somewhat similar plot to this trope, if you’re interested! Ghost coded, imo. Noncon warning.

Anyways

Prince!Gaz doesn’t believe you when you say you weren’t trying to kill him, but he does believe you when you say it isn’t your fault. Poor thing. Must’ve been forced into it! You don’t have to worry about that anymore, he’ll keep you safe from whatever criminal underbelly manipulated you into doing this. He turns you into a bit of a pet project. A perfect rehabilitation of a criminal. It’ll be a brilliant morale boost. Maybe even more so if he takes you as his wife? Controversial, yet romantic— the bards will eat it up for sure.

Knight!Soap thinks it’s a bit fishy. Why go after him? Why not the captain of the guard? He’s kind of a dickhead, but he doesn’t make any personal enemies. He’s just gonna have to keep you until you fess up and tell him who hired you and what the motive was. And how lucky he is that the assassin they sent was so cute and squeezable, too! He doesn’t mind having to keep you.

Warlord!Ghost considers this an open proposal for marriage. He’s very much attracted to your gall and open animosity towards him. Both excellent qualities in a wife and a mother. Very well— he accepts!

Lord!Price can see that you’re not a natural born killer. This must have been your first time. Your attempt failed— so he won’t have you killed… he takes a look at you and decides that humiliation is a more fitting punishment. So he’ll be keeping you collared and on a leash for the foreseeable future.

Artificer!Nikolai can see what’s happened right away. You have the smell of otherworld clinging to you. You’re not from around here. But he’ll play along as if he doesn’t know that. As for your punishment… he’s been wanting an apprentice. Some cute little thing to help him around his workshop. Looks like you fit the bill on that.

[yojeongin]

It’s my desire to give myself to you | p.js

→childhood friend!jisung x f!reader

genre: smut, romance, 80s au, childhood friends au, lost communication, open ended

synopsis: being the youngest in all friend groups has always proven to be beneficial for jisung but he’s no longer that little boy you met years ago. so why won’t you look at him for what he truly is: a man. he’ll have to prove it to you then.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! obsessive and whiney jisung, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk jisung, vaginal fingering, implied age gap although it’s not significant, public indecency, unprotected sex, bratty jisung, praise kink, bulge kink, begging, creampie, virginity loss (virgin jisung), alcohol consumption, infantilization mentions, overbearing mother.

wc: 11.6k+ || soundtrack || ao3

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

an: happy end of the year fic, I’d consider this an accomplishment (writing 3 fics in one year lol)

Summers began to be the best thing for Jisung starting at the age of nine. He might have gone to summer camp reluctantly at first, not wanting to join his older brother. He had enough of seeing him all the time at school and home so why did his parents think it was fine to take away his precious summers of pretending to be an only child? It was a rough start, that’s for sure; but being taken under the wing of older kids served to be more fun.

Up until the age of sixteen he lived in bliss waiting for the day summer break to begin and be back where he felt free from the watchful eyes of his parents, only seeing them twice a month for visitations. As for his brother? He had his own life to run and the two barely bumped into each other which was a blessing in disguise for him. His bags were always packed weeks prior to the departing date and when his mother started to ask if he truly wanted to go –for she has been missing him terribly due to their increasing mommy-son dates– Jisung didn’t hesitate on turning her down. Summer camp is all he looked forward to, the only thing he put effort into school for.

Nowadays the only yearly highlight comes in Winter for the holidays in the form of season greetings cards. He’s learnt to conform. “You get what you get and you don’t complain.” Is what he told himself often and that’s all the fight he has left in him the faster the years pass by.

“No mail for me?” Jisung asks with that same pleading whine laced onto his voice upon entering his parent’s home. Leaning down to kiss his mother’s cheek while she shuffles through the mail. She hums, elongating her words while flipping through the envelopes of bills and season greetings. Hoping her hesitance would cement the feeling of disappointment onto her son once more. “Well, it doesn't seem so… Oh! No. Here you go.” His mom utters with a slight smile, cruel as it is. “Took them longer to send this year. Thought the Y/l/n girl was going to fully desert you this year.” She quips balefully. Jisung gives her a quick glance before looking at the picture.

This is the most he sees and hears from you nowadays and it has become unsatisfactory. He wonders where things went wrong more often than he wants to. When he wakes up he thinks about it. When he brushes his teeth and showers he thinks about it. He’s burnt his hand thinking about why your letters minimize little by little every year and it so happens to be that this year he only received a happy birthday letter leaving him in the dark for the following ten months until today. If you can call it that, all the card says is: “May the beauty of the Holidays bless your home with happiness.” Signed off in golden glitter: The Y/l/n Family. No hand written note on your part, no acknowledgement at all. He’s sure your mother only sent it as his address hasn’t been erased from their address book. Otherwise, he’s not sure if his –hopefully– mother-in-law knows or remembers who he is.

“She’s been busy.” Jisung defends in a murmur, turning on his heel to walk upstairs to his room. “She told you that?” His mother yells back sardonically once he turns the corner. He ignores her but the glimmer of her pearly whites blind him through his peripheral view. A reminder that he can try to ignore reality but his mother will always be there to remind him. She wouldn’t understand it. She won’t understand when all she sees is that little nine year old coming back from camp excitedly telling her about the friends he made and the pretty girl he wouldn’t stop talking about.

Or the ten year old that was so ecstatic to come back and ask her for her pretty paper to write a letter to that same pretty girl that finally hugged him and gave him her address to write letters to. She took his too and put it in her ‘important things’ box. Jisung saw you do it.

But Jisung is twenty-two now and lives off of the crumbs he gets to devour whenever he rereads every single letter you’ve sent him. His favorite ones are the birthday letters when you send him pictures of yourself with cakes you’ve baked for him even if he couldn’t eat them. He’s content knowing you cared for him that much. He clings to hope more when this year the cake looked even prettier but not as pretty as you in the multiple pictures sent.

He doesn’t entirely care if you only sent one this year or that you did not reply to his own birthday letter for you. He’s glad that you still cared enough to bake him his cake and let him see how much prettier you’ve gotten. One of those pictures is in his wallet at the moment.

It’s insane, no? To fall so head over heels for someone that has never been his. Jisung has known you for over ten years but nothing has progressed past embraces, friendly hand holding, and constant cheek pinches because you found him awfully cute. He still feels your touches linger despite lastly seeing you in person at sixteen.

Longing is the word he’s looking for. Longing and yearning is all he’s done since that last time he saw you and it becomes worse through the years with little to no communication. He wonders if you’re truly that busy to not spare him a few minutes to write back. Or if you’ve found someone that has prohibited you from contacting him further.

He foolishly expected a letter for his college graduation the way you sent him one for his high school graduation but it never came. He’s kept in contact with his other summer camp friends but they’re no good with information regarding you. Most but one left in the dark about your whereabouts. The last he heard from Jaemin, you had gotten a job and as vague as it is, that’s all he told Jisung.

Useless but also valuable. He envies Jaemin sometimes. He was the only one able to get far more closer to you and he doesn’t fully know how to feel about it. While you spent treating Jisung like a child, like a younger brother, things were always complicated between you and Jaemin. Vague as he is, to be specific.

All he can do now is lay on his bed with a cassette he bought precisely because you recommended it. He doesn’t like it but he does like you so he will endure. Endure like he’s done with anything regarding his yearning for you.

With your deliciously perfumed letters, fountain ink stains all over the pages, and images of you scattered across his bed with the music full blast on his walkman— Jisung revels in the pleasure of your indirect touch. Your fingerprints embedded on the paper and their oils seeping into his own skin the way they did years ago with every single one of your touches. He wished those touches were far more than playful and cuteness aggression. That the times your fingers lingered were because you wanted him as near as he wanted you. But once again, he will conform.

Conform, conform, conform.

In his state, Jisung doesn’t hear his mother’s covert steps when he twirls on the bed with images of you laying on his face. And he surely doesn’t hear her when she cracks the door open to spot his hands lingering on his thighs, memories of the time Hyuck and Chenle snuck alcohol on the grounds and all of you had a ball with it. He remembers your hands vividly on his short-clad thighs, giving them gentle squeezes as you chewed his ear off. He remembers the names Ralph Machio and James Spader spewing from your lips here and there. He wanted to shut them up with his, consumed by jealousy but also wonder how they’d feel against his.

Of course he didn’t, the alcohol made things seem funnier than they were and he wouldn’t overstep. Not when he knew his role in the group was to be cute and be taken care of. That’s how you liked him most, he noticed.

And when he twists again to fight off the temptation of letting his fingers crawl to the hem of his pants, a face he’s known all his life is looking at him directly. Startling more when frustrated. “Park Jisung!” leaves her lips, sending his body into a shocking jolt and his walkman flying across the room. His body crushed the photographs he was admiring, much to her delight.

“Mom!” Jisung whines, holding onto his dangerously fast palpating heart. He huffs and pants, attempting to relax himself before dropping another word. “What?” He aims to say calmly but she’s far from that. Her hands on her hips and a stern look around his bed transmits her disappointment, disgust, and anger.

“I read your grandmother’s letter and it turns out she will be spending the remainder of the month with us after all.” Silent scoff, as if this was the most absurd thing. “Take a run to the mall and get her a gift. I didn’t count on her even contacting us.” Well, that explains her foul mood. It’s made worse when all he musters is a nod but doesn’t make an effort to stand up. God, how she would love to pull him by those raven locks or his ear. Whatever gets the message through.

“Well hurry!” That’s all she can muster.

So Jisung does, collecting everything he can and shoving it into a locked box while his mom turns to walk out the door. Embarrassed is all he feels besides shaken up from the scare he gained.

“Don’t forget your gloves and scarf. Don’t want you to catch another cold.” She mutters while mixing whatever she was cooking. It smelled fine but he knew her food became dangerous when cooking upset. It had a life of its own. He hums as a reply, wanting to leave it at that. “Jisung.” She calls again, calmly this time, turning halfway to look at him.

“Forgetting something?”

He shakes his head, bundled up under all warm clothing.

“Sure?”

He nods and she huffs, walking towards him. She kisses his cheeks and the tip of his nose, cupping his face. That reminds him, manifested in a sigh and a smile that he leans down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

His bid farewell always leaves him upset. He’s twenty-two, why does she still treat him like he was three? Just yesterday his brother couldn’t stop pinching his cheek after buying him a crepe. Continuing to compare him to a cute little hamster despite Jisung having surpassed him in height.

Three weeks ago when he met with Jaemin to talk about you, the words ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ would not stop spewing from his lips the way bile does. With the exception that Jaemin welcomed these in comparison. Mark, similarly enough, always clutches his face with restraint from crushing his skull and then engulfs him with a bone crushing hug that leaves him aching for minutes to pass.

He thinks Jeno is the only one with sense that treats him his age, yet he’s caught him other times babying him at the arcade. Especially when a stranger playing against Jisung wants to get quippy and there he becomes that eleven year old that Jeno and Hyuck had to defend from some idiots that had just watched Star Wars and felt inclined to the dark side.

Jisung decided to take the car, it was getting colder and he felt the remnants of snowflakes begin to fall even if they could only be seen under a microscope but he was sure of it. He contemplated walking in hopes of ailing himself to disturb his mother’s sanity but proved futile knowing she’d hover over him 24/7 until betterment. Therefore, his sanity would be the one disturbed.

For such a busy season, the streets looked empty and the mall itself wasn’t entirely full besides the movie theatre parking lot. Their billboard lights blinding him the longer he stares to see which movie seemed fun. He should at least get some enjoyment out of this. He can decide later. RIght now he has to pick up something he thinks a geriatric angry woman would like.

Let’s see… She likes disgustingly small yappy dogs like chihuahuas— as angry as her. She likes cats as sick as her… some yarn and new patterns should be a good gift. She doesn’t like those.

Decidedly, Jisung will take a stroll towards the end of the mall. Taking his sweet time to enjoy the scenery of the water fountain. He truly does like the mosaic. The flamingo pink tiles crawl up into a gradient of green tiles that surround the mouth where water spurts out. In better times, it shines under the sun. Right now, not so much.

He doesn’t leave before throwing in five pennies. Five for his birthday and five for safe measure that his wishes are secured. He always wishes for the same two things. Three to hear from you and two to beat Jeno’s centipede high score.

Jisung smiles and nods to himself, walking past the fountain, some water spraying on him. He doesn’t mind, he’ll take it as a sign that one of the two is to be granted soon.

Halfway through a cinnamon sugar pretzel after nearly choking from its dryness, Jisung decides to touch his heart and not gift his grandmother something she doesn’t like despite her being such a vile woman. Instead he should give her something that she won’t ever be able to lift and only admire which leads him to Sur la Table on the east wing of the mall. He grumbles and huffs annoyedly at the walk but he knows it’ll be worth it. Hell, maybe he’ll steal it for himself when she goes senile.

The only thing that he appreciates about this wing is the warm yellow lights from French and Italian wannabe restaurants that aim to attract hungry consumers and cooks. He enjoys the set up at Sur la Table, mainly because he gets to play with their faux kitchen setups and the shock on people’s faces when they overpay for these cookware items. Fooled into consumption from their fabricated experience.

He plays with some of the display pots and pans, twisting knobs and reading tags to see how pretentious he’ll feel after learning about Swedish enamel. He doesn’t know how much that matters —if it's a cash grab— but it sounds fancy. Before him, he prepares some plates. A nice hearty bowl of Caldo de Gallego. Jisung doesn’t know nor understands what it is but he remembers hearing it while flipping through the channels when his father got cable. A monumental moment for him.

“No dessert?”

And just like when his mother scared him shitless back in the privacy of his own room. A familiar voice snapped him out of his public exposition daze.

He goes through the same motions he went through back home. Clutching his harshly palpitating heart, panting and huffing to regain his composure, and feeling embarrassment. If he went through this once more today, he’ll definitely faint for good.

It’s far more embarrassing this time around. He took advantage that the store was nearly empty and no one came to this side of the store but he was proven wrong. Worse yet, the person that scared him was waiting for an answer.

Jisung still feels and hears his heart blaring in his ears but he tries to act cool. Only to fail when his knees buck once he registers the face that’s been accompanying him for the past ten months in his wallet. Albeit something was different. The length and color of your hair that’s for sure.

“Don’t be a stranger, come on.” Your voice is as sweet as he recalls.

Fuck, how he missed it…

Your arms extend to him, pleading for his embrace. Jisung doesn’t hesitate to give you what you want— as always. Swaddling you with his long limbs and making sure you can’t let go until he is done savoring this moment. He’s truly craved this for as long as he can remember.

A soft giggle works to ease his grip, letting you go with a nervous chuckle of his own. “Sorry.” He speaks, shyly covering his mouth with a sleeve covered hand. The apology not only yours to receive but himself as well for reacting like the little boy he was when you met; for the miniscule regression. He takes in your light head shake but tender smile. It’s a different scene from when he last saw you. There’s an obvious distance that he does not like.

“How have you been? You’ve grown so much!” Instinctively, your hands reach for his face, cradling it while attempting to restrain yourself from pinching his cheeks. You’ve already overstepped by touching him. Instead you give him an awkward giggle and the following words. “What happened to my little Jisungie? You’re even taller than last time.” Jisung can sense your desire to grab him and handle him like you used to but for some reason you’re holding back.

‘Please, please don’t deny me this. Touch me, hug me, pinch me… Just please touch me…’ Jisung wants to blurt out. He’s been starving for years and he finally has you before him, so why won’t you feed him? Don’t be so gluttonous, please…

Jisung won’t voice any of it, he opts to nod with that same gummy smile that you love. “Growth spurt, stuff like that.” He attempts to sound nonchalant but he’s so giddy that he can’t contain himself. You read him like a book.

“So, uh… What are you doing here? I never thought I’d see you in my town.” He questions, scratching his head. You’ve always been a good eight hours away from him, meeting him halfway for camp. Six if you count Chenle’s birthday party in ‘81 in which his parents paid for everyone’s transportation.

Your hesitance doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he wont prod. He’s content with having you near, he thinks so. He’ll be sure to start throwing quarters into the fountain for granting him this wish at least.

“Work actually,” You hum, body swaying while you nod. “Oh, right! Jaemin mentioned you got a job, congrats!” He celebrated with genuine happiness but the inkling of curiosity never left him.

‘Please talk to me. Please say more, I crave your voice. Please, I’m too malnourished, can’t you see?

“Did he?”

“That was about it. You know how vague he can be.”

You hum and nod again. This awkward cycle frustrating and hurting him.

Jisung has not spent the past six years missing you for this encounter to be short lived. He’s aware six years was a long time ago and he’s definitely lost contact with other friends but they’ve never mattered the way you do and there’s no way he’s going to waste this opportunity.

“Hey, why don’t we catch up, yeah?” He clutches his arm, swinging a bit and lips puckering before pressing them tightly amongst each other. Your immediate reluctance is easily spotted and it only makes him ache more. He’s not sure what has elicited this behavior but whatever it is, he’ll kick himself over it when you’re not around.

“I don’t know, Ji… I have a report to work on.” You avoid his gaze, knowing that the second you see his pleading eyes you’ll cave in. He knows that too and he knows that if he makes his voice a tad bit squeaky, you’ll begin to crack. You always do.

“Y/n-ie, please…” He tilts his head, crouching to meet your gaze. His big round eyes glistening either from the lights, his own natural charm, or the tears that will spill if you pay him no mind. He doesn’t mean to pout but when his lower lip involuntarily juts out you let out a defeated noise through your teeth followed by grabbing his cheeks and stroking them softly, uttering a “Fine, fine!” to satiate his nerves and your own craving of touching his face like you once did.

His grandma can wait, it’s not like she’ll even use the cookware set any time soon.

“What were you even doing back there?” You break the silence, both walking towards the exit. Without you looking, he tosses a quarter out of gratitude into the fountain when passing by. He swears he can see the tiles gleam and let out satisfied clinks. They’re just as thankful.

With a hand to the back of his neck, he laughs softly. Head turning to you with excuses in mind yet he opts to tell the truth. “I like to pretend it’s my own kitchen whenever I go in there.” He laughs embarrassedly to which he is received with a silent ‘cute’ and observing look.

He’s glad he distracted you but it also feels like a backhanded compliment. Adorable. RIght, that’s what you still think of him.

“By the way. Do you mind grabbing a drink instead? Not a huge fan of coffee… Unless you want to of course.” Jisung suggests, putting his gloves on once both reach outside. He notices your lack of scarf and undoes his while you contemplate an answer. Halting your train of thought when he wraps it around you which ends up making you blurt out a “Sounds good!” in return.

It’s no surprise that the car ride was full of silence but at least the radio muffled your thoughts and hopefully his own if he had any regarding the atmosphere. There was a part of him that grew resentful and hurt with the lack of conversation but the greater part was ecstatic to have you so near. This is what he’s dreamt and wished for for years and he finally has it. He does not plan on wasting any millisecond of both your times.

Jisung wasn’t an avid drinker and did not know much about alcohol besides what his friends have shown him. His parents didn’t drink and his grandmother would shove a can of miller high life onto his hand if he ever spoke more than his usual five sentences. The way parents shove a bottle into a crying baby’s mouth to put it to rest. Why did he request a drink instead, though? Simply to gain some courage. Lord knows he’ll need it if things keep going the way they’ve been.

The place he took you to wasn’t that different from the ones you’ve been to during your college days. With ugly stained yellow walls, dart boards and old decorations hanging on them. Wooden columns covered in thick layers of resin as were the counters and tables. Grumpy beer-bellied bar tenders arguing over the football game playing on screen right now with already drunk customers. Yeah, not ideal for a first date but the only bar he knew. The only piece worth being valuable a signed poster of James Hunt.

What the hell was James Hunt doing in this fuck ass town?

He let you go in first upon finding a booth hidden in the back of the bar. Far more darker and cozier at this end. Perhaps due to the lack of distance he kept between you two when he himself slid in, his arm instinctively resting on the backrest of the booth around your head. The need to simply wrap it around your shoulders killing him.

“Pretty cold out there, right?” Jisung began, removing his gloves and jacket, shoving ghe former in the pockets. You didn’t turn to him, responding with a hum as you remove the scarf. He frowns at this, slumping against the backrest, watching you look through the standee with all drink names.

“What are you ordering, Jisung?” He hadn’t thought about it, more immersed in hearing your voice. Either Way he didn’t know a single brand of alcohol, ‘Lite’ the only word in relevance to alcohol that he knew. “You choose, I’m fine with whatever.” He diverts, leaning closer to you to read the alcohol options.

Though, as if you could read minds, you turn to look at him. A soft smile with narrowed eyes focusing on him. “Are you sure you want to drink? We can get something else, I don’t mind.” You suggest, expression relaxing now seeing how easily he reacted.

“Yes! I mean no! No, I would really like a drink, unless you want something else.” Jisung tumbled through his words. The bashful look on his face raises your lack of restraint in grabbing and handling him the way you’ve done so many years ago. Oh how truly adorable he remains. Although, he’s gotten quite handsome. Too handsome for his own good.

“Okay,” You nod, fingers ghosting over his cheek to reassure him– never touching, just yet.

Raising your hand to call a bartender over, one of the two begrudgingly stroll to your table. Tossing a worn out and smelly towel over his shoulder, he gives both of you a look as if to hurry up and order. With reluctance and indignance, you scoff. “Two blackberry smashes. Whiskey in both.”

“We ain’t got that stuff here.” His mannerisms were comical and absurd. As if he was angry that a request was made but also so nonchalant, so careless for your presence. More interested in going back to his game.

“Fine, two pints of your house beers, tap and two shots of your cheapest tequila. ” Jisung thinks your voice now matches the arrogance and annoyance of the bartender. He sort of likes it, it reminds him of the times you yourself had defended him against snobs at camp.

The balding bartender grunts as a response, sounding like an okay before leaving. “Swear, it’s like he's being held at gunpoint to work here, Jesus.” You shake your head, attitude dropping when you notice his reddened cheeks. Curse him and his presentable fondness. “Oh I’m sorry, Ji. Was I being mean?” Your body turns to him, hand clutching his out of habit. Jisung smiles at the contact, looking at it briefly before looking at you. “No, you were perfect.” He utters, reveling in your touch.

You smile at him, embarrassed. Something that he takes with pride. “You never told me what you were cooking up in that kitchen, you know.” You aim to divert the focus. He chuckles at it, “Caldo de Callo. I heard it on TV, I think the host said it was a Spanish dish. Never had Spanish food.” He sounded so proud yet clueless at the same time. Though, you tilt your head, lips parting and closing the further your eyebrows furrow. He hears you hum and finally ask, “Do you mean Caldo Gallego?”

Jisung can see you stifle a laugh when his face begins to feel insanely hot, scorching even. Embarrassment written all over his face that he has to bury them in his sleeve-covered hands, groaning into them about how stupid he sounded. If only he knew that what he originally said translated to ‘callous soup’.

Endearing is the word you’d call it though. Endearing he is with his crescent shaped eyes and shamed pout. Endearing are the whines and groans he lets out when you can’t seize your giggles. He thinks about telling you to stop but doesn’t, your noises far more prettier and enjoyable even if at the expense of his misery.

“It’s okay, Jisungie.” You elongate his name, “It sounds similar, don’t fret too much!” You giggle, petting his hair as one does a child trying to comfort them. He enjoys your touch but doesn’t enjoy the slight patronizing tone to your voice. He’s not sure if he can call it patronizing because he’s aware there’s no malice intent behind your words but it did sound condescending in the way those speak to their juniors and he was tired of you treating him like one the longer the night progressed.

Jisung huffs, sighing when his head touches the table. He turns to look at you momentarily, distracted when your drinks arrive. He hears a few forced thank you’s and sarcastic my pleasures. Your feud with the bartender is amusing but not for this time. Right now he wants to focus on this sentiment brewing in his chest.

He gives you one last glance before reaching for the shot glasses. “To seeing each other again?” Such a simple question that made you hum pensively. You don’t deny it, clinkling your glasses together before dowing the burning liquor. With the taste of battery acid buring your throat, Jisung on the other hand clutches his throat, spitting it out onto a bundle of napkins.

You find him so agonizingly cute that your hands begin to ache to touch him and squeeze the life out of him. How adorable can someone be?! “Oh Jisungie… Tequila isn’t for everyone.” You tut, shaking your head. “Perhaps I should order you some apple juice to soothe that, yeah?”

Your giggle makes his ears ring, that same gnawing feeling that you're mocking him consuming him. He knows you’re not doing it on purpose. That you truly care for his wellbeing but is he truly that easy to perceive as naive and childish that you won’t see him as more? Sure, he didn’t like the tequila but so what? It was their cheapest one. If it had been a bit more expensive, then he’s sure he would have drank it as easy as you. He’s not a kid, why won’t you see that?

Jisung doesn’t voice it though, sighing while redirecting the conversation. “Were you doing some last minute shopping back at the mall?” He questions, obvious discontent and melancholy in his voice. You let it be, nodding as a response before shaking your head when you register the question. Too enthralled with how pretty he looks like this. Face flushed from the alcohol and embarrassment. So cute, so adorable, so perfect. Your Jisungie.

“No, no, actually I went with intentions to watch a movie but the cinema won’t play the movie I wanted to watch so I was on my way out when I saw you through the window doing your little thing.” Your giggle sends him into orbit. He feels lightheaded. Your words weren’t laced with judgment but fondness, he’s thankful for it this time.

“What movie?” Jisung attempts to act as if you didn’t affect him.

“Uh…” Your hesitance piques his interest. “Sex, Lies, and Videotape.” Well it seems that it’s you who is embarrassed now. He takes it, smiling to himself. “Gee, I wonder why they wouldn’t screen this at a regular movie theater.” He giggles, wiping the corner of his mouth when he feels some leftover alcohol residing there.

“Okay now, I had just gotten out of a meeting. My brain was not fully cooperating.” He giggles some more, his teeth now clutching his sleeve. “Honestly, why would a movie like that interest you?” You smile at him, the rim of your beer glass pressing against your lips. “James Spader.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, a scoff leaving his lips while he himself takes a sip of his beer. It’s unrefined and messy. The way the lager alcohol slips down the corner of his mouth and slicks his lips when he places it down. You watch it all through the window of your own, taking slow sips to admire his silent tantrum. He’s never been fond of James Spader. Or any other man you’ve mentioned.

“He’s not all that, you know.” Jisung mutters with a pout, leaning against the backrest. You don’t laugh like you intended. You simply acknowledge him through the handkerchief you pull out of your pocket to softly wipe the residue of beer before it becomes sticky on his skin. He can taste the flavor of your black cherry lip gloss when you swipe it over his lips.

Such an intimate moment prompts him to take a grasp of your free hand, playing with your fingers like he’s done before. “Oh please. He’s the perfect blend of sensible and… manly.” Jisung can only guess you’re thinking of James Spader with the way you bite your lower lip and narrow your eyes. A lustful sigh escapes your nostrils which serves as confirmation to his inquiry.

Seemed like a bunch of bullshit, if you were to ask Jisung what he thought. If you wanted those qualities then why didn’t you realize how perfect Jisung was? Maybe he’s being a little self absorbed or malleable to your desires but so what? He’ll do anything to make you look at him.

Furrowing his eyebrows, dropping your hand and pointing at his chest, Jisung spoke. “I’m sensible and manly!” It sounded more whiny than he expected which would prove to throw off whatever result he wished for. Of course it would, your laugh seems to provide an answer to such.

“I don’t know about the latter…” Your hum upsets him more.

“I am!”

“I don’t know. Just look at how cute you look pouting like that…”

Jisung huffs, upset at your continuous dismissiveness. Must you always remind him of his inferiority? What must he do if you won’t see that he’s a grown man now?

“I am, I’ll prove it to you.” His tone must have sounded significantly bratty that you receive it with patronization. Sarcastically telling him to prove it then if he was so manly.

So he did. He did in the way his large hands cradled your face, warming up your cheeks although that might be from the immediate heat his actions spurred. He proves it through his stealthy moves, bringing his face closer to yours in which he allows his lips to ghost over yours for milliseconds before finally connecting them.

Shocked is what you would describe this feeling clinging onto your chest. Never in a million years would you have thought about kissing Jisung. Sure, you’ve kissed his cheeks and forehead in the past, but that’s what friends do with someone they find adorable and innately drawn to. Jisung has always been hard to avoid, even if you wanted to, one look in those glistening round eyes and you’d submit to his every wish. Everyone does.

His lips moved with inexperience, soft and slow but uncoordinated with no idea where to go from there. His internal debates made obvious when he would part his lips for a second before going back to what seemed like peppered pecks. The way dolphins kiss. You wonder if this is his first kiss or how he kisses overall. If so, you’re only sorry that it’s so miserable.

Jisung eventually determines that he should stop. Either from shame at how uneventful it was or, well, simply because it was uneventful. Rather you two stare at each other for what felt like ages. His confidence is dying down along with your shock. By now both reverting back to your usual personas which meant that he shyly tried to look around without breaking eye contact and you, sternly looking at him without blinking much in order to gain answers.

He sighs knowing this was a lost cause. Rubbing the back of his neck, his body shifts to face you more than before. “Why haven’t you sent me any letters? Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?...” Jisung hates how easy it is for him to transmit his emotions onto his voice. While he hates to sound whiny, he would prefer that over the hurt that enveloped every single syllable he’s spewed out. What he hates more is that he’s not able to shut his mouth. “You have my home number, you have my address. Why haven’t you replied to my letters?”

“Jisung…”

“No! Please tell me.” God, how he hates how dismissive you can be, “I’ve been waiting for you for years. Please give me something, anything.”

Jisung’s face contorts the longer he begs, his lips reddening and puffing more than normal. His cheeks are ravished by that harsh crimson that warms them, borderline scorching. His voice, now a mixture of hurt but whiney that makes you shift at how uncomfortable you are that it spurred something in your chest, now traveling down to your abdomen. You really want to slap yourself for this.

Your Jisungie. Your sweet Jisungie, you idiot!

“I’m sorry, Ji. I was busy with my discretion and didn’t have time for anything. Then I graduated and it was a bloodbath to even get a job right out of college. I mean, I almost threw myself to the sharks and contemplated going to a convent. Can you imagine? All my hard work wasted. Then this year…”

Almost like a child that should have not spoken, Jisung raises an eyebrow when you reach for your beer glass, using it as a shield to make you stop talking. He grew increasingly irritated by your silence. “This year what, Y/n?!”

He’s never spoken to you like this which raises concerns with how you don’t mind it. In fact, you surprisingly invite it, although in minimal quantities. Seeing as there was no way out of it, you sigh, shoulders slumping. “Then this year I saw your mom at the film store around Easter. We were both picking up pictures and we talked for a bit until I asked about you and she said that you had a girlfriend. That I should probably be conscious that not all girls are comfortable with their boyfriend being so close to other girls. That she wouldn’t take kindly to seeing me send you letters so often, let alone pictures…”

Jisung has never been angry at his mother. Sure, irritated and hurt. But never angry, which seems to be a feeling he never thought he’d harbor for the woman that has given him life and all the love a child deserves. He knew his mom wasn’t too keen on his infatuation on you, he’s not sure if it’s for the difference in age or weary of someone she hasn’t fully met besides a few encounters on drop-off and pick-up day at camp.

He always imagined that she would come around once she truly met you, so why was she trying to sabotage him on something he’s been begging every single deity for?!

“So, if you have a girlfriend, why the hell did you just do that, Jisung?” The disgust and confusion in your voice made him feel far more awful than he already was. Appalled would probably be a greater feeling, though. He’s made sure to let you know that with the harsh ‘what?!’ that spews out of his lips like a hymn.

“What the fuck? I’ve never had a girlfriend. Jesus fucking Christ, why would she say that?” He questions the latter to himself, unaware that he’s confessed his inexperience to you (as if it wasn’t noticeable); shifting his attention to you shortly after. “Why would you believe her in the first place? I’ve never looked at anyone but you! Why won’t you see that?”

It’s not his grasp on your shoulders that startles you but rather the sincerity in his confession. Never in a million years did you think you’d be hearing these words from Jisung. The fuzziness in your chest adds to that shock which confuses you and at the same time disgusts you.

Jisung is far more perceptive than you had thought, “Please… It’s been you since the summer we met…” He goes back to pleading, his grasp softening. Kneading your arms as to beg for contact on your end. You hate how much this is luring you into whatever he wants. You’ve never been able to say no to him, yet again these found feelings are clashing with those you’ve fostered since you met him.

It’s vile and conflicting to see him in such a sweet light. As your junior who’d you do anything for, to… this incessant needy and lovestruck man that keeps begging for an ounce of affection in any form possible. If it was for Jisung he’d be on his knees kissing the sole of your shoe as long as you get to tell him you love him the way he loves you.

You sigh, contemplating on what to do or what to feel. “I don’t know, Jisung.” You huff conflicted. You’ve always been like a little br–” His hand covers your mouth before you can even finish your sentence. His eyes tremble and you realize that he’s much closer than he had been. “Don’t finish that. Please don’t ever say that again…” He begs and begs. Either it be his words, the way his eyes look at you, or his body language.

“I’m twenty-two, I’m taller than my own older brother or any of the friends we made in camp. I can drink and smoke if I want. I’m a man now, Y/n. Not that scrawny squeaky voiced kid you met long ago. I don’t need you to see me like that. So please… erase that from your brain and see me as I am now.”

You don’t know if you hate him or yourself at the moment. You’ve never been one to reject change, in fact you welcome it but it’s different when it comes to the image of people you like. Fuck it, you’re even upset at how deep you’re thinking about this when within a few minutes you might think this is stupid and unserious.

“If age is the problem, don’t let it get to you. We don’t even have a disgusting gap. For goodness sake, we were in the same group classifications every year at camp and Mark had already hit the group limit. That should be enough to get you out of whatever hellhole you’re digging yourself into.”

See? Eventually things could turn so unserious and with the sound of his voice, rather bratty and accusatory. “Do you not like me, is that it? Do you not find me desirable?” He questions, head nodding to incentivize an answer from you. He almost makes it seem natural and you wonder how many times he’s done this before. Push people’s buttons until he gets an answer. You suppose he truly has grown.

The Jisung you last knew would never whine for something like this. All he had to do was say please with a pout and he’d get what he wanted. Far more innocent and civilized. This was crude, erotic, and mocking. You expect him to give you a cheshire smile when he gets what he wants in comparison to his gummy one full of appreciation.

Yes, he’s no longer a boy. He’s now a sweetly cunning man.

“It’s not that.” You blurt out, cursing yourself at the admittance that he has more of a chance than either of you could’ve thought. Expectedly, that cheshire smile presents itself slowly. Sultrily, he speaks. “Then what is it?” He whispers, lips to your ear as his hands create a path down your upper body.

The words hang heavy on your tongue, distracted by his touch. Finding his large hands more pleasurable than you could’ve thought. “I actually don’t know…” You confess sincerely, eyelids fluttering when they land on your knee, fingers padding over the clothed flesh. Contemplating on whether to stay where they are at or slide up.

Ecstatic by your bodily response, he smiles sweetly. Whispering in your ear, “Let me prove it to you… Let me erase that image of me you have, please…” He begs, lips trailing to your cheek, a blazing trail branding your skin. When they reached your lips, you couldn’t deny him the wonders of being kissed in return.

You both sigh into the kiss the second they perfectly slot into each other. It’s slick and wet, albeit, much more pleasurable than his first one. This one you’re able to enjoy the delicacy of those plump red lips that envelope yours and leave a delicious sting that makes you crave for more.

Your hands paw at his sweater, drawing him closer to feel his warmth. He takes this opportunity to let his hands roam up your thighs, massaging the insides until he decides that he won’t wait and lets his hand crawl to the hem of your skirt. His hands –scorching– against your skin when he manages to pull down your tights. Bunching them around your knees and covering your legs with his jacket.

He smiles into the kiss when he feels you react to his feather touches. Taunting the idea of touching you further. He’s not too cruel though, not when this is what he’s wanted for so long. Therefore, he decides to reward both of you by letting his fingers go under your panties, the cotton feeling like heaven against his knuckles. He revels in the feeling of your wetness clinging to the fabric. Cooling against his skin while he lets his fingers waltz up and down your folds. Contemplating what their next move will be, unpreoccupied since you seem to enjoy whatever he is currently giving you. He can see it with the way your eyelids flutter and the kiss grows hungrier, needier. This is all he truly wanted.

Jisung decides to not taunt you any longer. He’s never wanted to upset you. Allowing his fingers to softly part your lips, twisting his ring clad middle finger and inserting the long digit into you. They felt so cold within your walls, forcing a gasp to leave your lips. He took that opportunity to muffle it with his tongue the second it intruded the cavity of your mouth.

The muscle, surprisingly strong as it dances along with yours, savoring the delicacy of your taste. This is overshadowed by the spasm of your legs the slower he pumped his finger into you. Molding your walls to the ribs of his nimble and spindly digits. Your pleasure is exerted through sighs and hungry kisses which he consumes all you give him. He thinks this is enough incentive to insert a second finger. This time his ring finger, quickly adapting it to the movement of the other one. It’s nice to feel the contrast between his warm acclimated finger to the cold shorter one.

His fingers move slowly, picking up the pace when he decrees that you deserve more pleasure than he currently grants you. He’s driven by the way you cling to him, hands going under his sweater and clutch his sides, fingernails softly taking the warm flesh. Jisung finds it delicious how you cling to him the way your walls grip to his fingers. Sucking him in and keeping them in place whenever he thinks of even taking them out without making you come first.

Neither speak but the silent mewls that leave your lips is enough to let him know he’s doing something good. He’s proven right when you softly nip at his swollen lips, sucking on the lower one, resulting in him releasing a shaking breath.

You will be the death of him.

Jisung found that he loved how you look when you writhe in pleasure in his arms. He thinks you look otherworldly with the way your lips part to release those sweet chants he has recorded in his brain. Enticing when your tongue sticks out to cling to his and his lips just to know he’s still there making you feel better than you’ve felt in a while. He knows you're ready when you gnaw at his lips and jaw, holding to the back of his neck as your lips trail as hungrily as his, prior. Leaving a trail of rouge that he wishes to seep into his skin like a tattoo.

When he feels your teeth cling to his jugular, he can’t help but let out a guttural moan, thankful at how secluded this booth was. His fingers reward that feeling by moving faster, his thumb rubbing delicate yet quick circles on your clit. At some point he felt scared that your cunt would swallow his rings with every clench around his fingers. You were so close and all he felt was pride and gratification that it was him that was making you feel this way.

Fuck, he could explode in his pants right now.

“Jisungie…I can’t hold back anymore.” You pant, leaving open mouthed kisses along his Adam's apple. Tongue roaming and savoring the saltiness of his skin taut on his clavicles.

He’s no one to make you suffer and not get what you want. Instinctively, his fingers pick up the pace, pushing them as far as he can. Curling them and covering your mouth when the volume of your prayers increase. Swallowing them whole when he connects his mouth with yours, luxuriating in the sybaritism of your orgasm through your kiss and spasming legs.

It takes you a minute to calm down, panting softly. Jisung looks down at you with a pleased smile, his fingers still in you, pruning by the second but he doesn’t mind. He sighs constantly, kissing you softly this time. It’s sweet and tender, similar to the first one he gave you with the difference that your cooperation makes it run smoothly.

When he parts, his fingers slowly ease out, causing you to shudder. You feel so empty and cold at the lack of his touch. Rewared only by the mere fact that he prods your lips with his ring finger, slowly entering your mouth. You savor yourself on him, tongue running along the underside, lingering on his finger pad.

No one has ever done this for you. Look at and treat you like you’re their whole world despite the lewd scenery.

His finger slips far more slick from your lips than it had entered your mouth. He takes them up to his own, running them along like a brush on the most pristine parchment. Letting its ink sink into the grooves and cement itself for eternity.

Biting your lower lip, you examine the way he takes both fingers into his mouth. Pupils blown out once he’s fully swallowing the taste of you in all forms. He knew you were perfect but this is beyond that. This is an exquisiteness he’s never savored before. He will never be satisfied again.

Jisung leans down making you think he was to kiss you again. The reality was that your essence was more inebriating than the shot of tequila and the pint of beer sitting on the table before him that he had to have a taste of the fruit directly.

In swift motions, he moves his jacket from your legs, shoving your skirt up and letting it fall over his head. Despite the awkward angle, Jisung managed to swipe the tip of his tongue against your slick cunt. The muscle parting your lips and forcing a gasp out of you.

It’s a mixture of shock and pleasure. He was shameless and that made it so hot and intoxicating, yet fear was consuming you. Forcing you to take a grasp at the back of his neck and pull him up with as much delicate force as you could muster. Like a starving kitten, parted from its mother’s tit, Jisung fetches your lips.

He looks so pretty and so stupid. So drunk and starved for you. The feeling so obvious in his hazy eyes and wet lips from your come that he has yet to lick or press against your own. You give him the latter, kissing him to satiate his need for just a bit. Biting his lower lip to calm him down.

“Don’t be so greedy, Jisung.” You scold against his lips, removing your mangled and wet tights and shoving them into your pocket. He cries like a kicked puppy but nods, getting out of the booth and helping you out knowing you’ll look like a newborn deer after his filthy handling.

Neither of you pay any mind to the cashier that takes in the payment. Weary eyes scanning you both and scoffing without questions. It’s not his first rodeo.

Drunk in a daze, Jisung doesn’t question when you give him directions. He expected it to be a hotel, one you should be staying at for work. It dawns upon him that it’s your apartment when he sees you punch in the entry code.

You’ve been so close all this time and he doesn’t knows how to take it. It’s evident in the look he gives you when you both enter the apartment and he looks around. His lips parting to question it but being shushed by your lips and hands tugging at the hem of his sweater to pull it off his body. Leaving him bare and goosebump filled before you.

“Not now…” you whisper against his chest, kissing his torso and pecks, nipping his nipple. You can talk about reality once you’re finished.

Jisung sighs but welcomes the feel of your lips and touch all over him. His own fingers unbutton your coat and cardigan, pushing them off simultaneously to make his fingers crawl to your back and unclasping your bra.

He withers and hunches over when your hands push down his pants, grasping his hard and leaking cock through his briefs. The wet spot ironically forming a heart. His Lip part, erotically to let out breathy gasps and pants. For this, you kiss him like he once did. Invading his mouth with your own tongue, holding his face in your hands, making sure he makes no effort in separating until both you feel the air escaping your bodies.

In the process, both of you manage a waltz in ridding of the remaining clothes. Kicking off any shoes and underwear, leaving each other bare in the middle of your living room. If he was given the time to admire it more, he’d tell you that it was truly what he expected of you— positively.

Instead he’s eating you alive, carnivorously gnawing at your lips in hopes to draw blood. An act that you embrace and let him do as he pleases. Simply because you’ll return the favor with as much fervor that you both will let the crimson paint itself on your lips the way your rogue has marked his skin.

When air finally did what you expected it to do, Jisung connects his forehead against yours. Both panting and drawing your bodies flush against each others. He grins seeing the little number he did against your lips, the cracks of them full like a dried up river during dry seasons. If only he knew he looked the same.

“Eat me… take your time in consuming me…” you implore, the words playing over and over in his brain as he pushes you down on the couch. Dropping to his knees without a care of what your neighbor on the bottom floor will say or if his palid knees will bruise instantly. For you, he’ll writhe in pain.

Jisung wastes no time, he separates your legs and throws them over his shoulders. His head delves in between the pretty image of your cunt and clings his lips around it fully. His lips suctioning while his tongue teases your entrance. His grasp on your inner thighs is a bit harsh but pleasurable enough that you’ll enjoy seeing the marks he’ll leave on them tomorrow.

He’s fueled more by your sweet words and the tugs at his raven hair by your fingers that curl on the locks. It feels much better when your nails scratch his scalp and for that he sucks on your clit. Incentive or reward, they’re interchangeable.

“Ah!… take your time…” you moan, head thrown back and giving him a pretty image of the expanse of your neck and the way your nipples perk. You look so heavenly that he knows it’s blasphemous. The way the overhead light shines behind your head, creating a glowing halo and he’s glad that it’s Sunday for this is his mass and holy communion. His mother should not dislike you after this.

Jisung lets his tongue roam around your cunt, savoring every crevice, picking up every single drop that spills from you. Be it that no one has ever paid such devotion to your mound, your legs begin to shake around his head. Your hands cling to his hair and pull him closer and closer to the point his nose manages to create a pleasurable pressure against your clit.

This is no problem for him. He lavishes himself in your taste and smell, moaning against you to create further sensitivity which is appreciated and you reward him by coming almost immediately when he lays his tongue flat on you to lick down and enter deep into you.

A slew of moans leave your lips but his name is the one you scream out. “Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.” Oh how well has conforming paid him off. For this he leans back on his feet, hands rubbing his thighs and teasing his own sensitive cock as he watches you writhe on the soiled couch. A lake of your come seeping into the faux leather, shimmering as its reflection on his lips, nose, and chin. How beautiful you both look.

Animalistically and greedily so, Jisung dives back in. This time pulling your body further down the couch. Leaving you limp and folded while he raises your hips and clings to them. He’s more messy and filthy about it this time around. He allows his lips to suck harshly and lick as consolation just to softly bite your clit and make you cry out masochistically.

Hypersensitivity, a force that travels in the form of your loud moans and cries. That’s what fuels him and it feels so sadistic but he indulges himself at least this once. He’s hopeful it won’t be the only time but for now he will enjoy it as it is.

He can hear you begging to please let you finish. That you don’t have it in you to last long anymore but he doesn’t relent just yet. Not when his hips buck forward and shudder with every grace of his cock against the leather of your couch. It’s so cold and harsh that it hurts but it also feels so good that he can’t help but be excited at how your soft and warm walls will soothe his dick like ointment to a wound.

That seems more exciting, yes.

All right, Jisung will please you once more. He kisses your cunt softly, long and languid velvet like kitten licks to push you further. His own rutting is much slower which proves to be a painful decision for he can’t control himself when his abdomen cramps up and painfully moans against your chest as he stands up to release all over your swollen and irritated cunt.

The feeling of his come feels like boiling water spilt on an open wound. It makes you come for the third time this night, the feeling increasing when he hums hungrily as he rubs his come in a sheer layer, ointment to your ache. The remaining that stuck to his hand, on his cock, rubbing up and down to suffer that same overstimulation at his own hands. This is his solidarity for what he’s caused you.

Tired and panting, Jisung takes a seat beside you. Caressing your face while trying to regain some stamina. You’re so spent that you lean into his touch, kissing his soiled hand and licking the saltiness off of it to savor him the way he has you.

Fuck… that’s making his dick twitch.

“Pure nectar from the forbidden fruit.” Jisung leans into your ear, kissing your cheek softly as he helps you onto his lap. You whine but ultimately allow him for there’s one more thing he can offer you and you need it.

His fingers are soft when they touch your entrance. It’s so soft and so warm, he can only imagine how sensitive you are. The image makes him moan softly against your ear. Your head resting on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his torso. Limp yet so needy against his body. The body heat between both creates a layer of perspiration that travels from that connection onto your entire body.

Jisung rubs your back in soothing circles, leaving peppered kisses onto your hair and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He inhales and exhales like his life depended on it, kiss after kiss after kiss.

“You’ve always been so good to me, Y/n. Do you like how I’m thanking you?” He hums, lifting your face with a finger on your chin. “Yes…” you sincerely confess in a breath, returning the favor with a slow kiss that allows your tongues to finally explore and examine each other the way you both are doing. By any form, you two will always find a way to please each other.

“And, I think I should keep going so you can fully understand how much I like you and have liked you…” he mutters in between kisses, his tongue shoving the words down your throat so you’ll digest them immediately.

You can only nod, feverishly and with a shiver down your spine when he holds your lower back, helping you up while the tip of his cock rubs slowly against your folds. You can tell it’s helping him get hard. His flaccid cock rapidly hardens with every stroke, his breathing increases and comes out shaky against your ear. It doesn’t help that you’re kissing his throat like you were back at the bar with the exception that they’re less hungry and far more passionate.

“Can I fuck you, Y/n?” He begs, eyes droopy in a plea. If it wasn’t because of how he’s holding you, you’d be sure his hands would be together in a prayer. You hum, pretending to contemplate when your answer had been decided long ago.

“I don’t know…” you tease. God only knew his abhorrence of those stupid three words. He’ll make sure to knock them out of your vocabulary if you say yes. For now, like the brat he is, he shakes and writhes, tantrum-like while his words come out in elongated whines.

“Please, Y/n…” he cries out, his grasp on you tightening slightly. You hum again but you don’t speak, basking in the pretty sounds he makes when he doesn’t get what he wants.

“You can’t feed me and then starve me… I’ll go crazy if I don’t taste you again.” He pleads, lower lip jutting out and letting his face get closer to yours. He’s so pretty like this that you can’t help but concede.

With a giggle you nod, “Very well then.” You tell him, kissing his cheek. The sweet act is gone when he lowers you down on his hard cock. You had seen it moments prior but hadn’t registered that the stretch would sting like this. It’s not bad, matter of fact it feels so fucking good… and it doesn’t help that he’s long enough that you feel him in your stomach.

“Ji…” You moan out in parts, eyelids fluttering as he bottoms out. Jisung sucks in air through his teeth when he feels your ass on his balls, squishing them and begging them to please you. That is something that he will hear out anytime.

Your voice sends him a whirlwind, “Give me your hand.” You request from him. If it wasn’t for the sheer fact that you wanted him to see and feel what he was doing to you, you’d spend more time admiring his large hands. Seeing them this way, you can understand how he made you come perfectly.

Leaning back causes you to squish his testicles further. A moan leaves his lips hungrily as he admires you through hooded lids, his head thrown over the backrest. When he feels where you placed his hand, he snaps it up, admiring the prominent budge on your stomach and how warm it felt to be in you.

“See?” You ask in the sweetest tone, smiling at him. He returns it with a nod, caressing what he’s caused. Instinctively, he bucks his hips upward, a moan erupting from both your lips due to the friction and the image. It’s like a live painting being made before him.

“So pretty…” he coos, his fingers dancing around the imprint. His thrusts increase in pace, your head rolling back in pleasure. It’s not fair that he has to do all the work; holding onto your thighs, you begin moving up and down on his shaft.

His moans get louder and his hands roam your body like undiscovered land. Landing on your breast and squeezing them. Your own hands leave your thighs to help him in kneading, yelping when his fingers take a hold of your nipples to squeeze them. “You’re doing so good, Jisungie.” You praise, each word received with a hard thrust from him and a whine, thanking you.

“My Jisungie is so big now…” you moan, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, he holds your hips while increasing his pace. “Such big hands,” reaching for one, you kiss his palm before letting it fall to its initial spot.

“Such big pretty lips…” Your teeth nip his lower lip, reopening the cut from your earlier‘s cannibalistic game. “The most beautiful big eyes.” And with a drop of his blood on your lip, you kiss his eyelid. Eyelashes flutter upon feeling your warm moist flesh.

You attempt to sound just as tempting and sultry, but his thrusts along your hips hopping on his dick— your words leave out in broken moans and cries.

“And such a fucking big dick that will make my guts yearn for it again.”

Jisung’s eyes blow out, lips parting and licking off the blood from them. He allows himself to be vocal now. There’s no holding back when his hands grasp your ass and hold you in place. His hips move up rapidly, reaching deeper than he had previously. Your lower body stings from his handling, it doesn’t help that his testicles are slapping against you that creates an echo to play all over your living room.

You’re being fucked stupid that no coherent words attempt to leave you anymore. Anything that does are moans and cries which he swallows entirely when he grasps your jaw harshly to kiss you as messy and wettly as he did at the bar. There’s some teeth and so much tongue but neither care when the feeling of your walls molding around his cock, that they’ll forget how good his fingers initially made you feel.

He’s so swollen, you feel it with every thrust the same way he feels you grip him with no intention of letting go until you both get what you want. It’s such a perfect fit that makes his abdomen ache. He’s so ready and so are you.

“Finish… please, finish.” He begs, hips move messily and mindlessly. He’s so ready to be done but he needs you to come first. It’s not until he shifts and brings you closer that his mouth wraps around your tit. Hungrily kissing it like a starved animal. His teeth take no mercy in biting the skin around and your nipple, leaving indentations of his pretty teeth. At least you’ll have his smile engraved on you.

He continues on the second one, your nipples so hard that they ache from his sucking and biting. And when he feels the needs to insert two fingers in you while he fucks desperately with squelches imploring you both to finish, you can’t help but clamp around him with a loud moan erupting from your lips and coming around him. Fingers and cock.

Your cries don’t seize, they only increase when he himself spills within you. It’s so warm, almost hot and there’s so much that you can feel it run down the sides as he remains in you. Poor Jisung, he had been holding it for so long. Your poor little, Jisungie.

You squirm on top of him, shaking from the great orgasm. Something you hadn’t had since that one time you masturbated at nineteen. Thank you Jisung for being such a great sport.

“You know,” Jisung is the first to talk, swallowing. He was parched. “I’m so glad I waited for this.” He smiles tiredly, you giggle with a sigh but ultimately nod. “I’m sure other girls were satisfying enough.” You say, to which he shakes his head.

“No, I meant sex.” He confesses confidently until he coils in when he realizes what he’s said. Your surprised look only makes the feeling grow. “No way.”

He nods

“No way! There’s no way you fucked me this good with it being your first time!” You attempt to lean back to look at him but your body aches and it also decrees that it wants to cling to Jisung’s as much as it can so the most you muster is looking up at him.

It’s such a pretty image when you notice the bashful look on his face, crimson blush consuming his entire body. How he, out of custom, smiles and throws his head back with his index finger extended under his nose to cover his mouth. There’s your sweet Jisung.

You laugh quietly, hand going up to caress his hair. “So cute… you’ll always be my cute Jisungie.” The statement is received with a groan but ultimately, Jisung relents. Kissing you once more, refined and sweetly. He understand what you mean and he also understands that you mean it differently now. Therefore, he won’t dwell on it. Sure, you’ll always look at him in such a sweet image but now with the addition that he has proven to you how much he’s grown… as a man.

[tbyfandoms]

I Smell Snow | Joe Burrow x Reader

Pairing: joe burrow x f!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: the first cincinnati snowfall of the season leads to a night full of magic and love

Warnings: literally a single swear word if you can even call it that

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: my first ever published joe fic! this is literally such a self indulgent fic, I won’t lie. it spawned after I was standing outside and it started snowing and then the next day I watched ‘love actually’. plus couple that with my love for ‘gilmore girls’ quotes and needless to say, this is a big ball of fluff. even if it’s not the best fic, I love it, and I hope you all do as well :) <3

When you step outside into the crisp air, a smile breaks out across your face. The sky is a soft grey, a color you'd otherwise dread if not for the time of year, and the sight alone causes excitement to stir within you.

You've been waiting for this since the moment the temperatures started dropping. The weather is of course unpredictable and you can never truly trust what the weatherman says on the news, but you're sure of it this time. You'd swear up and down you could feel it coming.

It's going to snow.

The click of the handle turning on the patio door tears your eyes away from the sky, and instead of soft grey, your eyes are now met with a soft blue color. The color of your boyfriend's eyes. A color you could get lost in if given the opportunity.

"Hey," you say softly as Joe steps outside and tries to piece together in his head what it is that has your undivided attention out here. He got the pool covered months ago and all the furniture is tucked away into different corners of the patio. He doesn't see any deer or other animals out in the yard either. There's nothing of interest and yet Joe understands that knowing you, it's gotta be something, and the thought alone has him amused.

"Hey, baby. Whatcha doin' out here?" You shrug your shoulders a bit, a tinge of pink coating your cheeks due to something else entirely than the cold.

"I smell snow," you whisper. A phrase you've come to love and use religiously when it is that time of year. You know it might seem stupid to some people, but you genuinely feel like you can always tell when it's going to snow. Weather reporting it or not. It's s silly thing between you and your friends, but somehow you're never wrong.

When you first started dating Joe it was during the spring. The snow had long since melted and the chill in the air was long gone. You've mentioned in passing before your little inside joke, but never once have you said it to him before. Saying it out loud to him has you feeling a little silly, but the look on his face quickly extinguishes it.

Joe's eyes are crinkled at the corners, his smile taking up half his face, and his perfect white teeth are on full display as a deep chuckle escapes him.

"Do you now?" The Bengals quarterback teases as he takes a few more steps towards you. As he does so, you bask in the sight of him. Your boyfriend looks so cute and cosy in his hoodie, sweatpants, and beanie. All Bengals branded, of course. Joe Burrow is nothing if not proud of his city and his team. You feel the same about him and all he's accomplished.

"I do, Burrow. And the minute that first snowflake hits the ground, I'll be telling you I told you so." You nod your head in finality before lightly giggling and turning your head back up to the sky.

Joe gazes fondly at you as he takes in every inch of your body. There you are, this beautiful girl standing before him, not having a care in the world besides knowing whether or not it's going to snow. He thinks you're ridiculous in the most loving way possible, and that's when it hits him. That's what this is; love.

The two of you have only been dating for just under a year, but the Cincinnati resident has never been more sure about anything else in his life (besides maybe football) than he is about how he feels for you. About how seriously he cares for you and wants you in his life for years to come.

Joe Burrow is completely and utterly in love with you.

A sharp intake of breath leaves the man's lips, but it's mixed in with yours as you gasp up at the sky and watch as a single snowflake drifts slowly towards your face. At first it's just one and then suddenly it's dozens of little flakes flurrying around you.

A bemused laugh shakes your body and you nearly squeal at the sight. There's always been something so magical about snow to you. You don't know whether it's the nostalgic child-like wonder and excitement of it all or if it's something else entirely, but you've never quite been able to shake it. You're not sure you'd ever want to, really.

"Joe," you start, awe completely evident in your tone as you lightly flit your eyes to your boyfriend and then back to the sky. "Look at this! It's so pretty, I can't believe I was—"

"I love you." The blonde's confession slices through the air and suddenly it feels like nothing else matters in this moment, not even the snow you were so desperate to see because—

"What?" You question, wondering if you just imagined what Joe had said. Surely you misheard him, but part of you hopes to God you didn't.

"I love the way you care so deeply for everyone. I love the way you support me and my career completely and yet still keep that fierce independence and confidence in yourself and your own career. I love that you don't let anyone or anything get in the way of your dreams, but yet you still stay kind through it all. I love the way you've accepted me and all my stubbornness no matter how irritating it may be at times. I love how smart, funny, beautiful, and a million other adjectives I could continue to list, you are." A laugh slips past your lips and it's in this moment you realize tears have begun to trickle down your cheeks, mingling with the soft snowflakes that have landed there. "But most importantly, I love you, Y/N. Completely and unconditionally, I am in love with you. And I know we haven't been together for that long, but I'm hoping that just maybe you feel the same."

Wasting no time, you practically jump the few feet it takes you to reach your boyfriend and immediately wrap your arms around his neck, his warmth engulfing you instantly as he holds onto you.

"I love you too, Joey," you smile as you pull back and lock eyes with those pale blues from earlier. As the sky begins to darken, you revel in the way his eyes shine as they reflect the patio lights. You'd debate with anyone that Joe's eyes rival the stars themselves. He'd definitely say the same about yours.

A beat passes, the two of you so wrapped in each other's presence and revelations that most definitely have now altered the courses of your lives. The thought of falling so deeply in love with someone the way you have with Joe both terrifies and excites you, and all you know for sure is that you're in this for as long as he'll have you. Something tells you though that that's going to be a very long time, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

Joe reaches up and cups your cheek in his palm, his thumb swiping over your cheekbone and brushing away a few snowflakes that have settled there. It doesn't take long for him to lean in. Dying to connect his lips with yours and craving the way you taste.

His lips mold perfectly with yours, the way they have for all these months and the way you're sure they will for months to come. As the first Cincinnati snow of the season continues to fall, you smile into Joe's mouth as you feel the flakes begin to melt between you. The warmth of your lips fighting off any of the cold trying to reach you.

You're sure you'll feel the effects of ice cold water seeping into your skin later, but right now all you can focus on is the man before you and how happy you are to have found him.

Joe pulls back and you nearly giggle at the sight of him. The tip of his nose and his cheeks are a bright pink, and you're sure if he wasn't wearing his hat that his ears would appear the same. Even though he looks like the happiest man alive right now, you can tell he's cold. Although you can admire the snow for how it looks and how it makes you feel inside, it doesn't always make you feel the greatest on the outside, especially after a long period of time.

You decide now is a good a time as any to head back inside. You're confident the first fall of snow lived up to all the hype and then some.

"C'mon, let's go inside and warm up. I think I've had enough of the snow...for now," you chuckle.

"Thank God," Joe breathes out before bringing his hands up and rubbing them together, trying to create some warmth between them. "I know you love this stuff, but I won't lie, I'm freezing my ass off."

The two of you laugh as Joe leads you back inside through the patio door. The familiar click of the door handle echoes behind you and you hum in satisfaction as the cold gets shut out and the warmth of Joe's house welcomes you with open arms.

"Hey, freezing or not, you have to admit the snow is pretty magical." Joe watches as you begin to take off your jacket, a bit of snow that clung to you falling to the ground. Some of it is still in your hair, slowly melting away, but the sight of it makes his heart swell. The snow glistens, almost sparkles, and all it does is add to your beauty in his eyes. You're so blissfully unaware of it all too, and it only makes Joe fall for you that much more.

"I think I'm gonna have to agree with you on that one, sweetheart," he replies, genuinely believing it.

Magic snow powers or not, Joe adored seeing you in awe like that tonight. He can't wait for many more instances like it, and who knows? Maybe during next year's first snowfall, he might be on one knee, confessing his love for you in a different way.

[leonkennedybreedingkink]

BRING TO BOIL

coworker!leon x reader

tags: mention of child abuse (non-explicit), semi-nsfw. i be thinking about subleon ngl

Leon hasn’t heard a word of this meeting. Virus this, real life supervillain that, blah, blah, blah. Proper noun, adjective, verb—none of it means a damn thing when you’re standing across from him, looking vaguely irritated in your little black dress.

God, what were you doing? Were you in a club? Were you with friends? He hopes you were. What else is the purpose of a dress that could bring a man to his knees?

That’s Leon’s favorite place to be, on his knees in front of a beautiful woman. He doesn’t even have to be doing anything, either, he could be happy just having his head pet by said beautiful woman.

He snaps out of his thoughts when he notices he’d been staring at the freckle on your left tit for a bit too long, clearing his throat quietly and looking away. He looks back over when you shift a little, the sequins on your dress shimmering in the fluorescents.

When there’s a sufficient pause in the briefing, you raise your hand like you’re a schoolgirl again. “Excuse me?”

Leon wishes that hand of yours was on him, preferably on his back as you scratch him up.

“Is it necessary that I’m here? It’s my day off.” You continue, the hand holding your clipboard of the meeting minutes crossing your body to land on the opposite hip, then folding your arms.

You’re leveled with an unimpressed glance over Hunnigan’s glasses. “Yes.” She says shortly, continuing with the briefing.

Leon watches your jaw flex as you hold back some sort of snarky remark, visibly making an effort to calm yourself down despite the way you’re simmering with the way you measure your breaths in and out.

It’s easy for him to tell when you’re pissed off, you’re too expressive for your own good.

The meeting draws to a close and he flips over the notes to get the gist of it—exactly as he bet earlier—before handing his clipboard to Hunnigan’s assistant and letting you wave him and everyone else out before you, chalking it up to self-consciousness.

He’s less than a foot away from the door and into the hallway when you hurl your clipboard against the wall as hard as you can.

You throw the clipboard the way you throw a punch, shifting your weight in your hips and shoulders. “Fuck!” Papers flutter to the floor as he watches the board bounce off the wall and land with a quiet thud on the linoleum, pink plastic splintered in the middle.

You stand there in silence, chest heaving and fists balled up.

Leon turns around because he could never resist a woman who could kick his ass, chalk it up to mommy being a little heavy handed in her discipline. Well, that, and he’s never seen you so pissed off.

While he can read your face like a book, you also tend to swallow your pride and any emotion in favor of focusing on the mission. Eventually, you calm down, you’ve just gotta steam about it.

He leans against the wall, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. “‘S this about your day off being interrupted?”

Eyes up, Kennedy.

He watches you push a hand through your hair, hands shaking minutely with the adrenaline rush.

“Yeah.” And he can see you rearing up for a fight, as if he’s about to taunt you for being a very stupid little girl to be so upset about a day off being interrupted.

Leon holds his hands up, taking a step in. “I get it. This exact thing has happened to me more times than I can count.”

Somehow, this seems to placate you. He watches you clean up the papers, crouched down on the floor in your heels. When something’s too far out of reach, you kneel and reach out for them and he has to swallow.

“I feel like the maid.” You grumble, standing up and straightening the papers haphazardly before clipping them against the board again. “Can the world just not implode for one day?”

Leon snorts and you mistake it for him laughing at you, head snapping up and eyes narrowed.

“Hey, easy.” He speaks to you the way one does an angry tiger, taking a few more steps into the room to be by your side. Moth, meet flame. “I’m right there with you. Next time I go on vacation, I’m leaving my work phone here and not telling anyone.”

Your shoulders droop. “I should’ve done that.” You sulk, mouth twisting to the side.

“Yeah, well, now you know.” Leon muses, gently taking the abused clipboard from you and taking care not to look you in the tits instead of in the eye.

He sets a gentle hand on your shoulder, leading you out of the meeting room. “Maybe you should get changed.” He says carefully, his hand having migrated down to between your shoulder blades.

Then, an idea occurs to him, a small smile appearing on his face as he says casually, “Not that I’m not thankful for the view or anything, but—“

“Leon!” You swipe at his arm and he has to fight a lovesick giggle. Mission accomplished, your mind’s off your disrupted day off and he has your hands on him.

Leon has to stifle a piteous sigh when he sees you again, this time in a leather jacket and jeans. On one hand, he’s grateful you’re not torturing him anymore. On the other, he’s never gonna be able to get that view out of his head. On the other other hand, you walk around looking like that, no matter what you wear.

He’s between a rock and a hard place, except he’s the rock and the hard place.

The helicopter ride is always bumpy to wherever you’re dropped off. At least it’s somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere this time, Leon’s full from his previous, more exotic missions.

You fold your arms around yourself once you’re off the helicopter, looking around with a frown on your face.

Leon chuckles quietly, pushing a comm into his ear and threading it over the shell. When you have trouble, he reaches over and helps you pull it on. “You’re still mad about being called in on your day off?”

You grumble, holding your hair out of the way for him. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“Oh, of course.” He threads the cord around your ear, making sure it’s snug and coming to your side, keeping the wire pressed to your skin with his fingertips. “I think that once we have something to fight, you’ll quit brooding so much.”

“I don’t brood.” You huff, stuffing the comm thread down your shirt.

Leon looks away to preserve your dignity.

“That’s more you, in any case.”

Leon smiles, jamming his hands into his pockets. “That may be true.”

You sigh, pulling your hair up. Leon imagines tracing the slope of your neck with his nose, mouth watering at the thought. “Let’s go, I wanna be able to go home and brood in peace, sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You’ll never know the kick he gets out of being able to say that to you.

Real-life supervillain and cronies gone, you can focus on information. He was right, you look a lot lighter when you’ve had the chance to beat the shit out of something and kill it dead. You walk with a little spring in your step, now, and he so dearly wants to sweep you into his arms.

He refrains, but watches you hunch over a table and break into the mainframe of this little facility for a moment. He needs to write a cease and desist for your jeans, God. While you do that, he scopes out the rest of it, his hand on the gun at his hip with a flashlight in the other hand.

Pause, glance, listen down one side, then the other. Too quiet, it shouldn’t be this quiet. If Raccoon City taught him anything, if something’s quiet, something’s wrong.

Pause, glance, listen down another side. Leon wanders down the hall slowly, senses primed for whatever jumps out at him.

He gets his wish, tackled from the front by some abomination of nature and hitting his head on the linoleum on the way down. When it spits stomach acid at him, he dodges with a sluggish grunt, trying to shake it off and get out from under it.

At least he isn’t being choked.

Still, Leon can’t grab his gun or knock the thing silly, he’s not even sure this thing has a brain he can concuss. It’s almost sad that this thing and him are about equal in strength, maybe he should hit the gym.

Leon’s saved when you put two holes in the thing’s head. Unfortunately, it looks up and bares its teeth at you, getting up from straddling him as some drool lands on his face.

You empty the chamber into it with fear rapidly appearing on your face. He knows that look, he’s felt it more than once. Leon spots the fire axe on the wall and gets to his feet, breaking the glass with the butt of his gun and yanking it out.

He cleaves the abomination in half, splattering him and you in blood. “Are you okay?” He huffs, hauling the axe out of its shoulder and tossing it aside with a metallic clatter.

You nod, wiping some of the blood off your face. He wonders if you can hear after using a gun without ear protection, but that’ll be catalogued later, when you’re both home.

Leon registers the burning on his face a moment later, wiping fervently at his skin and wiping it off on his jeans.

“I can’t believe this.” He mutters, not even bothering to worry about his shirt rapidly succumbing to the acidic blood. You glance down, eyes wandering to the spots of skin you can see. “You get called in on your day off and I almost die because this thing is acidic.”

“Was.” You mutter back, putting your empty gun in the holster. Good, you’re still in good spirits. “Maybe I should be asking if you are okay.”

“I’ll be fine.” He’s a little woozy from hitting his head, but he’s a big boy, he’ll live. He might not if you check him over, only thing you’d be missing is a sexy nurse outfit.

“Good.” You hold up a thumb drive. “I got what we needed.”

“Good.” Leon takes your hand and pulls you out of the facility—but he’s maybe not the best man for navigation right now. You swiftly change roles with him, leading the two of you out of the facility and to the rendezvous point.

When you’re finally back at HQ being checked over, he slides a page over to you, his number messily scrawled on it. “Next time you’re wearing a dress like that, call me.” He murmurs, eyes half-shut, “Almost brought me to my knees.”

Chalk it up to the concussion.

[please-destroy]

Temper Temper

Natasha Romanoff x Reader + Family.

Word Count 1.4k

Follows on from the last few stories I've posted on here.

.

‘She might have had a good reason.’ You reminded Natasha as she gripped the steering wheel tightly. 

Natasha rolled her eyes. You sent a prayer ahead to Yelena waiting for you in the school office. Natasha had been seething since she’d received the call about the fight.

‘It’s her temper.’ Natasha muttered quietly as she pulled into a space in the school’s parking lot. You leaned over, running your hand soothingly along her tense shoulder. Natasha’s eyes closed for a brief moment.

‘She’s got fire.’ You corrected, knowing how easily Natasha saw her own fears reflected back in her daughter. ‘Just like you.’ You reminded her softly.

Natasha let out a long breath.

‘If she hurt someone-’ She whispered.

‘Let’s wait for the facts.’ You interceded, brushing your thumb over her wedding ring absentmindedly. ‘But, even if she did.’ You paused, making sure Natasha was looking at you. ‘That’s not on you.’

Natasha’s lips pressed together and she didn’t reply. You didn’t push your point any further.

Yelena was easy to spot, sitting outside the principal’s office. Her hair was a deep shade of blue and it stood out against the bland beige walls of the hallway. She looked over at the sound of your footsteps. You saw the nervous anticipation on her face as she caught Natasha’s expression.

To anyone else, your wife was the picture of careful neutrality. Yelena knew better than to believe it, you watched her swallow nervously. You felt a small spike of anxiety as you noticed the cut on her lower lip. It had swollen slightly, making her look like she was pouting. She seemed younger than ever.

You slowed slightly whilst Natasha walked directly over. She moved to stand directly in front of Yelena, imposing despite the fact they were nearly the same height when both standing. Yelena’s chin tilted up defiantly and you tried to prepare yourself. 

‘You got in a fight.’ Natasha stated quietly, letting her disappointment seep into the air.

Yelena glanced at you, eyes suddenly filled with nerves. 

‘That’s not what happened.’ She hurried out. ‘Those girls were-’

‘I didn’t ask for an excuse.’ Natasha interrupted, voice deceptively calm. ‘Those girls are a grade younger than you.’

You moved forward, seeing some of the pieces that they were both missing. You were sure Yelena had been provoked, you were certain Natasha’s anger came from fear of her own influence. 

Yelena always wanted to hear stories about Natasha’s superhero life. Now, she was getting into physical fights. It wasn’t hard for Natasha to find a correlation.

The sound of footsteps behind you drew your attention along with Natasha’s and Yelena’s. The principal gave you a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

He moved past you, unlocking his office door and holding it open for you all to enter. You purposefully moved to walk in between your wife and your daughter. 

Natasha took your hand automatically as it brushed hers. You reached for Yelena’s but she yanked it back. 

Quiet concern filled you. Getting into a fight at school was bad, but losing Yelena’s trust was going to be much worse.

There was a tense silence as you all took your seats in the school office. The principal leaned forward on his desk, fingers drumming out a rhythm on the hard surface. Natasha’s jaw tightened and you knew the sound was setting her on edge.

‘Today has not been a good day.’ He hummed out thoughtfully to the room and you tried to swallow your own annoyance at his officious tone. Unable to help it, your arm moved comfortingly around the back of Yelena’s chair. You heard her breathe a little steadier. 

‘Are the other girls okay?’ Natasha asked suddenly, voice tight. The principal nodded.

‘Relatively.’ He answered and his gaze flickered to Yelena. 

‘And you?’ He asked simply.

‘Fine.’ She replied bluntly, sitting stiffly in the chair. 

‘There are going to be big changes, going forward.’ He addressed you and Natasha now. ‘This will not happen again.’

Natasha nodded immediately, shooting another disappointed look over at Yelena. You resolved to enforce some space between them as soon as this meeting was over. Everyone needed a moment to calm down.

‘I hope you’re still happy to keep Yelena enrolled here.’ The principal continued seriously. ‘She really is a wonderful student.’

Natasha froze next to you. You glanced at Yelena in confusion, but she kept staring forward, obviously unwilling to engage.

‘Why wouldn’t we?’ You prompted carefully. 

‘We think the bullying has been going on for months.’ The principal informed you in a softer tone. Your eyebrows raised in surprise and you adjusted yourself in the uncomfortable seat.

‘The what?’ Natasha asked now, and you could hear the shock in her voice. Your heart started sinking before the principal confirmed it.

‘There’s been a social media campaign by several students targeting your daughter.’ The principal answered bluntly. 

Natasha was out of her chair before you could think of moving, going to stand next to Yelena. There were many moments when Natasha seemed achingly maternal. Her instinctive need to protect her daughter was the most obvious to see.

‘What sort of campaign?’ You asked the principal,, not quite sure you were ready to hear the answer.

‘It’s nothing.’ Yelena muttered now, furiously avoiding Natasha’s searching gaze.

‘From what I can gather, it was mainly focused on your wife.’ The principal informed you quietly. 

‘No.’ Natasha breathed out.

Her hand touched Yelena’s shoulder and you watched as Yelena flinched away from the comforting touch.

The principal’s eyes scanned the scene and he nodded to himself once. 

‘I’ll give you a moment.’ He said, rising from his chair and moving to leave the room.

The door had barely shut before Yelena spoke up.

‘Don’t make this a big deal.’ She directed to the pair of you quietly, with an enforced stillness similar to her mother’s earlier . ‘It was just some stupid comments online.’

‘Did they upset you?’ You asked her bluntly, already anticipating how much Yelena was going to try and minimise the incident. 

There was a slight pause and then Yelena nodded curtly.

‘I’m going to kill them.’ Natasha murmured and her hand fell from its position hovering above Yelena’s shoulder. 

You stood up before she could make a move for the door.

You touched Natasha’s arm, trying to calm the fresh panic you could see in her eyes. Her gaze clung to you, trying to ground herself. 

You looked back reassuringly at your wife, promising to fix what she didn’t know how. 

You turned to address your daughter, feeling the familiar uncertainty of a new parenting situation.

‘You are so brave.’ You told Yelena simply, finally getting her to raise her head and look back at you. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could tell us.’ 

Yelena’s gaze flickered to Natasha and then back to you. You all understood what she didn’t say. Natasha curled in on herself subtly. You brushed along her tense shoulders soothingly.

‘I just got confused.’ Yelena mumbled now, obviously on the verge of tears. ‘I didn’t think they’d actually do anything.’

Now, when she looked at Natasha, her stare was pleading. Yelena had always wanted to be like her Mom. 

‘I didn’t hit them back or anything Mom, I swear.’ 

Natasha knelt down in front of Yelena’s chair. Yelena looked down at her Mom now. Natasha’s chin tilted upwards as she started to speak.

‘I’m sorry.’ Natasha said abruptly, the words a little choked. Her hand reached up, thumb brushing Yelena’s cheek. 

‘I’m so proud of you.’ Natasha told Yelena softly. 

Yelena’s expression relaxed and you knew it was the only thing she’d wanted to hear. 

‘Thanks Mom.’ She said shyly, a tiny smile growing on her face.

You moved forward too, your other hand moving to rest on Yelena’s nearest shoulder. Yelena flinched obviously and then stilled herself purposefully.

The realisation hit Natasha first. She groaned exaggeratedly. Your gaze flickered in confusion between the pair of them. 

‘Please tell me you haven’t been hiding an injury this whole time.’ Natasha prompted teasingly.

‘I haven’t been hiding an injury this whole time.’ Yelena parroted back. Her wide smile was mischievous as Natasha rolled her eyes at the blatant lie. 

‘Why am I always taking someone to the Emergency Room?’ You said loudly, sighing dramatically as you fished out your car keys from your pocket.

‘Because we both have tempers.’ Yelena sang back to you, repeating one of Natasha’s favourite declarations.

‘No.’ Natasha corrected suddenly. She gave you an affectionate glance and your heart filled with a tender rush of love. 

‘We’ve both got fire.’

[mariclerc]

betrayal and rescue (pt.2) | cl16

Summary: your ex betrays you, but luckily your teammate has your back.

Warnings: ferrari driver!reader, single mom reader, misogynistic comments, fluff and Charles being such a sweetheart.

Part 1

The last month living with Charles have been a real dream come true for you and Mia, he has been a very important support for both of you during this time, he's a very caring and gentle person, his soft touch and kind nature is what you and Mia needed to really start healing. It was a rare, lazy Sunday with no commitments pulling you two away from bed, Charles lay propped against pillows, dozing lightly with Mia curled on his chest. You smiled at their peaceful forms, carding gentle fingers through Charles' tousled and soft chocolate curls.

Mia stirred, yawning widely before spotting you. “Mama! Morning!” she crawled over to snuggle into your side, little hand gripping Charles' shirt.

“Good morning my pretty girl!” you say softly at her, kissing her cheek. “Good morning Charlie!” you giggled.

Chuckling softly, Charles' arms wound around both of you as his eyes fluttered open, he smiled sleepily. “Bonjour, mes amours.” he murmured, pressing kisses to your heads. (good morning, my loves)

You sighed contentedly, resting your cheek against his warm and comfy chest. In that moment, all the cares and worries of the world felt so far away, here in your very own cocoon of blankets, surrounded by the love of your makeshift family, nothing could touch the three of you.

Your mind wandered back over the torturous last months you've spent trapped in your ex's grip... the constant walking on eggshells, never knowing what might set off his volatile temper, never having that feeling of safety or protection, even in your own home with Mia...

Now, Charles' strong arms encircled you both, radiating an unshakable calm, warmth and safety you'd never known before. His affection for you and Mia was unconditional, showering you daily with kind words, gifts, and adventures that filled your hearts to bursting.

Tears welled in your eyes as you peered up at Charles' handsome, adoring face. “I never thought I could feel this happy and content.” you whispered. “You gave me and Mia the life, the family, we always wanted.”

Charles' gaze softened, brushing away your tears with his thumb. “I'm the lucky one, princess.” he insisted gently. “You both brought me more joy than I ever believed possible.”

Leaning down to capture your lips in a slow and tender kiss, he poured every ounce of love into it that you still had trouble believing was truly yours after so long in the darkness. But in Charles' light, you and Mia were starting to heal, to believe, and to understand that happy endings do exist for those who keep hoping.

Mia let out a squeal of happiness. “Dada, Mama! Kisses!” she said giggling.

Charles smiled at her. “We have multiple kisses for you too, petite étoile.” (little star)

He said and then he started to fill Mia's face with kisses, who giggled more and was so happy, you smiled when you saw them, it was your beautiful family.

***

The Miami race weekend brought new challenges as you and Charles tried to keep your blossoming relationship private amid the media frenzy in the paddock and social media.

You two arrived separately to avoid suspicion, only allowing your hands to brush as you passed beside each other in the paddock Charles' eyes lingered with a smile, filling you with warmth.

During the practice sessions your radios remained businesslike, but his frequent checks that if you were hydrated or had enough fuel said everything. Small glances across the garage were your only connection, yet more intimate than any public display could be.

Qualifying came, neither of you hold back—though whether from passion for racing or each other, even if you weren't sure. You were pushing your cars to their limits as if nothing else existed.

After that, you stopped by Charles' driver room under the guise of strategy debrief. But as the door closed, his lips captured yours feverishly. Your restraint finally snapped under the tension of the day, the kiss is very slow and soft, as you two break away from the kiss, you place your forehead against his.

You gazed up at him worriedly. “Do you think people will start speculating about us?” you whispered softly.

Charles brushed his lips softly over your forehead. “Let them speculate baby, I don't care who knows how much you and Mia mean to me.”

His words filled you with joy and longing for the day you could shout your love from the rooftops, but for now, this stolen moment between you two, where the world fell away, was enough.

The press conference after the qualifying session were in full swing, you fielded questions professionally about setup choices and tire strategies that put both of the Ferrari cars on the front row for sunday's race.

But one of the journalists had an accusatory tone. “Some think it's no coincidence you and Leclerc are performing so well together... Care to elaborate on rumors of an forbidden relationship distracting you both?”

You started to reply calmly when another cut in. “Yeah, she's probably just sleeping her way to the top! Honestly, what else is a pretty face good for in a man's sport?”

Venomous laughter rose from some journalists in the room, your chest tightened in panic and rage —this was your nightmare scenario. Being a woman and also being in motorsports, you have often encountered derogatory and unpleasant comments about you and about women in general, it's like most men are bothered by the fact that a girl is faster than them on the track or that women deserve a place everywhere as them, that includes sports too. Before you could respond, Charles suddenly grabbed his microphone.

“That is completely unacceptable.” he said in a low, dangerous tone that chilled the room. His green eyes blazed with barely contained fury. “She is one of the most talented and dedicated professionals in this paddock, regardless of gender. The disrespect shown here today is a disgrace to the sport.” Charles leaned over the mic, jaw clenched. “I suggest selecting your next questions more wisely and showing my teammate the respect she deserves not only as a driver, but as a human being... If not, this conference is over.”

An uneasy silence fell as Charles grasped your trembling hand supportively under the table, you took a calming breath, regaining composure.

You swallowed dryly. ”Our performances speak for themselves, which I think is good for the team.” you stated clearly. “Charles and I simply push each other to excellence through our competition and partnership, that's all.”

Max Verstappen also wanted to give his opinion on the journalist's misogynistic comment towards you.

“Forgive me for being so bold, but I think that kind of comment is very out of place. I mean, considering that y/n is a mother and an exceptional driver and she deserves the same respect as all of us, right?” Max said, staring at the journalist, who was completely pale. “I think you should ask her about her race and strategy, and not about her private life, I don't know, that's just my opinion.” he said and dropped the microphone leaving everyone in the room speechless.

The rest of the questions thankfully remained respectful, but later, outside of the press conference room, Charles embraced you tenderly.

“No one gets to tear you down like that. You are so much stronger than their smallmindedness, okay?” he whispered in your ear.

You smiled up at him through happy tears, gripping his race suit. In that moment, you knew that with Charles by your side, you could overcome any obstacle that came your way.

Despite of those awful comments, the Miami Grand Prix was a huge success for both of you, with Charles taking victory and you claiming second place on the podium, the third 1-2 finish in the season for Ferrari, you're in total bliss. You two opted to skip the official afterparties and all the glamour, eager for some low-key family time.

Back at the hotel, Charles ordered a feast from room service while you and Mia showered away the sweat of the day. Emerging refreshed in pajamas, your heart overflowed seeing Charles play with Mia on the floor, her giggles echoing.

“Mama, dada won! Yay!” Mia squealed proudly as you bent to pepper her face with kisses, Charles beamed up at you, eyes sparkling.

“You were so incredible out there today babe!” he praised, helping you plate your overflowing meal spread across the suite's floors and furniture.

The three of you dined under the moonlight spilling through enormous windows, talking and laughing for hours as Mia dozed in your lap. Finally content and full bellies, the evening wound down with Mia yawning off to bed, Charles gathered you into his lap on the couch, kissing you so deeply and yet gently as if you were made of flickering glass.

“Thank you for giving me the family I never knew I wanted... For filling these months with a happiness I ever believed possible.” he whispered softly against your lips.

You cradled his handsome face, memorizing every beautiful line and facet. “I should be the one thanking you, you know? For trying to heal the wounds of my past and giving Mia and I the love and safety we always deserved.”

He shakes his head. “It has been such a pleasure, being with you and taking care of both of you it's been a journey, a beautiful one.” he whispered and you giggled softly.

Your relationship was far from traditional, that's for sure! But on nights like this, in the blissful quiet of each other's arms, it felt more right than anything you'd ever known.

***

You definitely enjoy the little breaks in-between races, it's were you can take a moment to ground yourself outside racing and just enjoy the calm and warm of your little family and that can be just a rewarding like a race win or a podium.

“Mama!” Mia screams a little. “A scary ghost is following me!” she says while running and giggling around the living room.

Almost a second later, Charles appeared hiding in a white blanket trying to catch Mia in his arms, but she runs away... He almost collide with the coffee table.

You laughed at their funny antics. “Oh no Mia! It's a really clumsy ghost.” you say while giggling.

“Boo! There's a sneaky little girl around here, I'm going to grab her in my arms and turn her into a little ghost!” Charles' said imitating the voice of a ghost.

Mia giggled again. “No, no! Bad ghost, really bad!” she covered her mouth. “Catch mama!” she said pointing at you.

You opened your mouth, shocked. “Me? But I'm just trying to make some tea!” you say. “It's not fair baby!”

You and Mia started run around the living room, making Charles crash almost with every single chair and the rug, you two laughed at him.

You feel and arm behind you. “Haha, gotcha!” he said in a mocking tone, making you and Mia collide to the rug, he took off the blanket, revealing is disheveled hair and a flustered cheeks.

“Dada, again, again!” she said giggling.

Charles giggled too. “Oh baby, maybe tomorrow, does that sounds good?” he asked her and she nodded.

You just smiled at him, you never saw him looking so radiant and joyful, it's like he's reliving things from his own childhood and it's so nice to see him like this with Mia.

You smiled. “You are a rather scary ghost and a little silly.” you giggled.

He chuckled softly. “Well, thank you, love! It's been years of practice.” he kissed your cheek.

“You know? You're amazing Charlie!” you say softly.

He looks at you. “Really? Well, um... Thanks darling, the truth is I only do what I can.” he blushed. “It's just me.”

You kiss the tip of his nose. “And that's why you're so amazing! You're you, as silly as it might sound, you're so passionate and so gentle at the same time!”

Mia smiled and kissed Charles' cheek. “Mwah! Dada kisses!” she said softly and he giggled.

“Do you want kisses, petite princesse?” he said to Mia and she nodded. “Okay, here we go!” (little princess)

Then he proceeded to cover Mia's face with kisses all over and she let out loud giggles, you smiled at the beautiful scene, and you realized something very important... You were in front of the love of your life and your little ray of sunshine, maybe everything would have been very different if you had tried from the beginning with Charles, or maybe not, but you are very sure of one thing... You are at home, in your safe place, with your two favorite people, the ones who keep you on your toes most of the time, but you wouldn't change it for anything in the world, Not even all the podiums or victories the world has to offer you, nothing compares to this.

[maxx-the-queer]

The Siege at Weisshaupt is honestly one of the best missions of any Dragon Age game, let alone Veilguard.

The stakes are already high: kill an Archdemon and then kill Ghilan'nain.

Killing an Archdemon - the big bad at the end of Origins whose very presence means apocalypse and certain sacrifice - is just the first step to killing an even greater force.

Ghilan'nain - an Ancient Elven Goddess blighted beyond recognition, whose unchecked ambition unleashed great horrors upon the world - is the real threat to face or else the Darkspawn Army will be the least of Thedas' worries.

The leader of the Grey Wardens, the only mortal force who have thus far been able to protect Thedas from utter annihilation, categorically refuses to face reality. Rook only has a ragtag team of half a dozen guys from all over to face an entire Darkspawn army with.

It's exactly as terrifying and daunting as it sounds, and neither task is something anyone treats with any amount of levity. Everyone is confident in their abilities to perform their task and get Lucanis to the right place to finish this contract, but there's no playfulness or divine certainty about their success.

Rook, whose only game plan is "get in and win by any means necessary," is then immediately confronted with the reality of their situation as absolutely everything goes wrong.

The Eluvian isn't where they thought it would be, the Grey Wardens are overwhelmed by Ghilan'nain's forces, and just to add to the sheer horror - there's a young child running through this battlefield of Darkspawn in search of her father and she will not listen to your pleas for her to get to safety.

All of that happens in the first ten minutes of the mission, mind you. This isn't even including the fact that Ghilan'nain appears as a damn spectral cloud face - which Lucanis rightfully points out is who he has to kill and "how am I supposed to kill a damn cloud?!"

Rook runs through the fortress, makes it to the East Battlements and hears the sounding of a horn begging for reinforcements, only to realise that they're the only ones coming and everything is falling apart, but they have no choice but to keep going.

Retreats are called, everywhere Rook goes is the wrong way, the forces are overwhelming beyond measure, and this battle is no longer about killing but surviving, because they're cornered like prey by horrors beyond comprehension.

When all of a sudden, the world's bravest little girl rushes in like a hero and guides them through impossible odds to somewhere with some semblance of safety. She's the only reason they haven't succumbed to death already and despite the waves upon waves of Hurlocks, Spikers, and Ogres - she finds her father.

Thanks to Mila, there's a moment of reprieve. Rook gets a chance to breathe. The Veilguard regroups, replans their approach. Distract Ghilan'nain with the dagger, trap her Archdemon in a dragon trap, and kill it to render her mortal. With time to breathe comes time to doubt, to fear.

A Warden has to die to kill the Archdemon. Davrin knows this, and is ready to go. But is Rook? What if they can't do this? What if this is how they die? Can they even spare the time to think about it?

Regardless, they fight through to the dragon trap. The Archdemon approaches as Rook all but dangles the dagger within reach. She takes the bait and sends her Archdemon forth, it seems all too easy - like putting cheese out for the mice.

The Archdemon is trapped. Davrin says his goodbyes, but the First Warden surges forward insistently. He plans to end this according to tradition. He'll die with dignity, he's not asking for your permission to do what all wardens must. He steps forward. Sword in hand, ready to end the Blight.

Ghilan'nain will not be so easily beat. She will not play by the rules they're used to, and the First Warden does not get to die a hero. She seizes him in her grasp, sucks the life out of him to empower Razikale, and changes the game once more. Her Archdemon is unlike any seen in history, and there's no time to revel in it because it's do or die and Rook cannot afford to die yet.

Every blow brings it closer to death, and therefore Ghilan'nain herself as she becomes more and more desperate. One snakelike head becomes two, becomes three, with blight everywhere - the time is at hand.

Davrin is the only one left who can kill the Archdemon, his death is inevitable, and he's ready to go as he sinks his sword in for the final blow.

Except, if there's one thing this seige should have taught them all, it was this: the rules have changed. Davrin is still standing, and he doesn't have time to think about why, because Ghilan'nain is mortal and the time to strike is now.

Rook tosses the Lyrium Dagger to Lucanis. He surges up, wings of Spite propelling him up to kill a goddess like she's any other target, because it's all that he came here to do.

And then, he misses.

With everything at stake, and everything to lose... Lucanis Dellamorte misses.

They don't have time to try again. If they stay, everyone dies. And so, the Veilguard flees through the Eluvian and back into the Lighthouse. It was a victory, but at what cost?

Nothing is how it's supposed to be. Weisshaupt is fallen. The Wardens are scattered. Razikale is dead, Ghilan'nain is mortal. And yet...

It wasn't enough.