#immediately turned into a wine mom

[sanshinexx]

More incorrect quotes w/ the gang :D

Echo is so very done with everything. Tired mom™ needs a nap.

[More of these here]

[heechwe]

but daddy i love him | 𝐬𝐣𝐲

୨୧ pairing: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 10.2k ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst, smut ୨୧ tags: badboy!au, innocent!reader, opposites attract, sexual tension, corruption kink, dirty talk, fingering, oral (m + f receiving), 69, pet names (baby, angel, etc.), face sitting, protected sex. ୨୧ synopsis: Just because there's a new and seemingly bad influence in your small town, it doesn't mean you have to fall privy to his charms, no matter how beautiful he is. But when he takes notice of you, none of the gossiping wine moms can stop him from getting what he wants. ➸ shoutout to @kwanisms and @mini-mews for helping this fic come to fruition, ily guys sm and this is genuinely one of my favorite pieces ive ever written aaa.

“Have you heard about the new family who moved into town? The son is a real piece of work!”

“He’s twenty-one but acts like he’s still sixteen on that damn motorcycle. No class or consideration whatsoever!”

“Maybe they’ll keep him in check if they decide to come to church this weekend. You know Reverend Park has no time for miscreants and delinquents.”

The familiar crowd on your mother’s front porch greets you as you’re attempting to exit the house. They cool themselves off with their makeshift fans and drink your mother’s homemade lemonade in the Saturday sun, continuing to harp on the locals in town that they’ve known for years.

Somewhere in their conversation, they drifted to the topic of the new family that moved in across the street. Three days was all it took for them to begin spouting their judgemental observations, every act from the new middle-aged couple and their son fodder for their discussion.

You smile politely with every fiber of your being, despite your instincts to snap at them and be on your merry way. If only they knew how ironic they are, pointing fingers at others from their high horses when the town kept enough space for their dirty little secrets. “Nice to see you this morning, ladies.”

They say your name with grace, their tones all air with little substance. “On your way to bible study?” Mrs. Choi asks, gazing at you from the rim of her glass.

You shake your head. “Just tutoring.”

“With the Nishimura boy? What a sweet kid.” When Riki’s name leaves Mrs. Lee’s lips, all the women hum in agreement. “Such a bright future ahead of him.”

“Of course, as long as he passes English,” you joke. The women’s faces don’t change, not taking your teasing with an ounce of anything but seriousness. The bags under their eyes, lipstick smudged in the tiny corners of their teeth, and piercing attitudes begin to damper your excitement for the day. You bid them goodbye quickly with another smile, walking down the stairs and onto the path down the street.

As you turn down the sidewalk, still hearing the resounding chatter from the women, your thoughts run wild. Is this what life would be like when you were older, doing nothing but kicking your feet up on a neighbor’s porch with only other people’s business to fill your time? Spending endless days and nights at church, listening to the same sermons leave Reverend Park’s lips until you become as overly critical as they all are?

The screech of tires halts your thoughts in their place. “Watch it!” A young man’s voice pierces the morning air, making you step back even further. You hadn’t realized how far you had walked into the road until you were back on the safety of the sidewalk. You trip on a crack between the two slabs of concrete, falling backwards and meeting the ground hard.

“Shit, are you okay?” He takes his helmet off, immediately hooking it to his handlebars to check on you.

Sim Jaeyun.

You had not met him formally until this moment, but the motorcycle and undeniable looks gave away his status as your new neighbor. Your parents had decided to let the new family settle in before trying to visit and introduce themselves. If they could see you now, your maxi skirt hitched up to your knees and the boy barely a foot away from you, they would have had a field day.

Sure, you both are of age. Butlike Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Lee, and other local townsfolk always do, people will talk about such a compromising position if you aren’t careful.

All those thoughts fade away though when Jake kneels beside you, his face flooded with concern. His eyes linger on the broken skin on your legs and then across your flushed face. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head. “It’s barely a scratch. Sorry I almost ran into you.”

“More like almost ran into my bike.” He laughs, his expression one of relief as well as humor. “I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”

“Thank the lord.” You brush your hands on your skirt and begin to stand up, but Jake grabs you by the hand to help, taking all your weight with him.

“Thank you,” you say, brushing the free hair from your braid out of your face.

“You’re welcome.” He unclips his helmet from the bar and gestures back to his bike. “I can drive you to wherever you’re going if you want. I don’t have a second helmet, but–”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips, the thought of riding on the back of a motorcycle too ridiculous to envision given your status as the deacon’s daughter. What would people say?

Jake just furrows his brows, his lips turning up at the corners. “Is my offer that funny?”

“No,” you say, “I would love to, it’s just–”

“Sim Jaeyun!” The shrill sound of Mrs. Choi’s voice makes you take another step away from Jake, unaware you were as close as you were to him. His presence seems to be magnetic, just like his smile. “Stay away from her or so help me God!”

Jake turns to the old woman down the road and nods his head, trying to be respectful but clearly irritated from her meddling. “Yes ma’am,” he yells, stepping back and getting closer to his bike.

“Maybe another time,” Jake says, “when you’re not flocked by the whining wine moms.”

You laugh and nod. “Maybe.”

Jake rides away on his bike, the wispy ends of his hair your last picture of him before he makes a sharp turn at the end of your street.

“Why do I need to learn this?” Riki groans, laying his head flat against his desk. The church bells ring as he knocks his head in the same rhythm against the polished wood.

“Because you need to be able to interpret text if you want to go off to college, Nishi. Otherwise you’ll be illiterate and an embarrassment to the entire town!” You put on your best harping, disapproving voice. It makes Riki laugh as he lifts his head. You’re glad at least the younger kids appreciate your sense of humor, unlike the older brood flooding your hometown.

“Alright, fine.” He opens his copy of Heart of Darkness, beginning to read the page in front of him. “I avoided a vast artificial hole somebody had been digging on the slope…”

A knock on the classroom door makes you and Riki turn. Yeri opens it with a shy grin, saying your name with the same nature. “Someone’s here to see you!”

“Who?”

“Some cute guy on a motorcycle? But don’t tell Jungwon I said that!” She runs back out the door and leaves you puzzled. Surely it’s not Jake. You just met him; he wouldn’t make the effort to try and follow you to your tutoring session, especially at the church of all places.

You head to the window to see Jake sitting against his bike, looking around at his surroundings. He’s wearing the same leather jacket and gray jeans, his white shirt marked with several spots of sweat. Riki comes up behind you, making a sound of acknowledgement. “Oh, that’s Jake!”

“Jake?” You look closer. “I thought his name was Jaeyun.”

“Yeah, but I call him Jake.” He laughs. “He’s my cousin.”

You nod your head, taking in his words. Jake’s sudden move made a lot more sense, seeing as Riki’s mother was getting sicker every day. She must have needed some help from her family to not only manage her household, but make sure Riki stayed on track.

“He probably wants to see you. Yeri must’ve gotten it all mixed up.”

Riki grabs his phone, scrolling through texts with his thumb. “Actually, he did mention almost running over a cute girl on his way to work.” The young boy smirks. “I’m gonna assume that’s you?”

You blush, the flush on your cheeks making you feel hot. “Whatever. He’s probably just picking you up!”

“I brought my own bicycle, dude. And as cool as Jake is, his driving makes me nauseous.” Riki begins packing up his belongings on the desk as you wonder what Jake would want to say that hadn’t already been said earlier. Surely he had no interest in talking to you beyond another apology for almost killing you earlier, not that you would have noticed.

As your thoughts continue on, you barely hear Riki’s parting words. “Have fun making out with my cousin!”

You venture outside and are greeted to Jake’s soft smile as he looks you over. “Didn’t expect you to be teaching my cousin how to read.”

You laugh. “When would that have come up? Before or after I fell face-first on the sidewalk?”

“Technically, you fell on your ass.” He looks over the cuts on your leg again. “Still doesn’t hurt?”

“Barely remember it.”

“Damn. Didn’t realize I was so forgettable,” he teases. You shuck your backpack over your shoulder, pretending his joke didn’t land. But you can’t help how your mouth curves into a grin. “Wanna take me up on that ride now? I don’t see any wine moms in sight.”

Being clear headed and not in the midst of a compromising position, you take a better look at Jake. He may look rugged from the neck down, muscles standing out through his jacket, but his face is incredibly youthful and vulnerable without a touch of hardness. Maybe the wine moms had gotten it wrong; maybe Jake’s actually a stand-up guy bundled up in a lot of leather.

Before you can answer, your father seems to appear from thin air. He wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Mr. Sim, pleasure to meet you officially.”

Your father holds out his hand for Jake, and Jake takes it with a steadfast grip. “Nice to meet you too sir. My mother was telling me how much you’ve been helping my aunt since she can’t attend services anymore.”

“Akemi is a pillar of our church. It’s only right to take care of one of our own as the deacon.” Your father squeezes you tighter to his side. “Glad to see you and my daughter have met. I hope she’s made a good impression upon you.”

“Yes sir. Very much so.” He smiles in your direction. The dimple in his cheek makes your heart flutter in your chest, the butterflies undeniable.

“Well, please tell your parents to come to ours soon for dinner. It would be a pleasure.” Your father begins the quick walk to his car, the silent request for you to follow him clear in his stern posture. You give Jake an apologetic smile before you leave, hoping your eyes hold the promise of taking him up on that ride someday.

When you’re both out of earshot and in the confines of your father’s car, he turns to you with a frown. “Do not get yourself involved with that boy. He doesn’t strike me as very forthcoming.”

You stutter out an excuse. Surely the first day of knowing Jake wouldn’t be the last. “F-Father–”

“Listen to me, sweetie. I know what I’m talking about.” He starts the car and begins the drive home, tightening his fists on the steering wheel. “I mean it. Do not see that boy again.”

The next morning, you’re sitting in one of the front pews with your mother, Yeri, and her mother. You see your fellow townsfolk in attendance in the other pews, Jungwon being one of them, Yeri’s longtime boyfriend. Mrs. Choi and Mrs. Lee look like they are partially focused on the attendees, but also on their own gossip.

All of you are dressed in your best outfits, your hair wrapped in a bun to maintain the peak of modesty. It doesn’t seem particularly realistic for a higher power to be judging you for your hairdo, but you gave in to your mother’s ridiculous requests as always. “We are important people in this community, darling,” your mother said as she stuck the umpteenth bobby pin in your hair. “If they can’t trust us, who can they trust?”

Riki sits behind you, his pew empty save for him. When you offer the empty spot next to you before the procession starts, he shakes his head. “Jake and his folks will be here any second.”

Your gut tightens, the words of your father playing over in your head. You know you have to heed his orders at all times, but the excitement you feel at the prospect of seeing Jake is unavoidable.

A minute before your childhood friend Heeseung sits at the piano to play the beginning of How Great Is Our God, Jake and his family walk inside. Jake’s impeccably dressed, clad in a red dress-shirt and suit pants. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing a handful of tattoos you didn’t notice the day prior. He has his mother’s arm in one hand and a bible in the other, looking completely out of place but incredibly mesmerizing.

He winks at you when he sits down, making you turn your head back to your friend at the piano. You follow in your mother’s and Yeri’s lead, singing alongside them and forgetting the new buzz in your veins. You can feel his eyes on you throughout the songs and sermons, and you should say that you don’t enjoy it, but you don't kid yourself. His attention makes your body tingle in all the right and wrong ways.

You excuse yourself in the intermission, walking outside until you’re a good ten paces away from the church. You take several pins out of your hair, grunting. The incessant tools had been scratching your scalp uncomfortably for the past three hours, and it feels like freedom taking them out one at a time.

It isn’t that you don’t believe in a higher power or the teachings your father and Reverend Park have supplied you with your entire life. The town is just too suffocating on days like these, setting you up to feel like you aren’t good enough no matter how hard you try every day to perfect yourself.

The fashion show of your humble, presentable outfit, the whispered chatter from your community, the watchful eyes of holy men. They all make your skin crawl, that itch only intensifying with every day that passes. How could you stay in such a small room for years and feel misunderstood by everyone? 

Jake saunters up to you, making you gasp in surprise. “Jesus Christ!”

He smirks, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I thought you weren’t supposed to say his name in vain.”

You shrug, smiling in relief to find it’s just him and nobody else. No-one to meddle, judge, or question your absence. “I’ll just say a few words of penance. I’m sure he’ll forgive me.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Jake chuckles and steps closer to you, his eyes lingering on your dress. It’s incredibly modest, the only skin showing high above your cleavage. but the look in his eyes still makes your nerves tremble.

 You wonder what thoughts are swimming in his head and if a majority of them are impure. Would it be so wrong to confess that you feel the same? That whatever he’s imagining mirrors your own fantasies ten times over?

“The updo doesn’t suit you,” he says finally.

You giggle and cross your arms. “It doesn’t, huh?”

He steps closer, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. It lingers across your neck and shoulder blades. You shudder, hoping he doesn’t notice how his presence affects you. He reaches behind you and takes hold of the hair tie keeping your bun together. He expertly undoes it, your hair falling in waves around your shoulders.

Before he walks away, the church bells signaling the recommencement of the procession, he whispers in your ear, “Much more breathtaking with your hair down, angel.”

The next time you see Jake, he’s across from you at your family’s dinner table, all laughs with Jungwon and Yeri as your father passes out the rest of the side dishes. Riki is also there, discussing his mother’s treatment with your mother and Jake’s parents.

You can’t help the way your eyes attach to Jake across from you. It’s almost a form of punishment that you were made to sit in such close proximity, the weight of his stare on you swallowing you whole.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, his mouth against your ear–it was all so incredibly inappropriate. You shouldn’t have thought about that day last week with such excruciating frequency, but you did. You thought about it when you heard the wine moms whispering about Jake on your porch, when Yeri and Jungwon talked about him as you studied, and when you were alone at night. 

In your dreams, it was even more painful. In a perfect world, he would take his hand from your hair and keep it on your neck, holding you close. He would move his lips from the shell of your ear to the side of your neck, kissing and tasting what skin was available to him in that moment to make you come undone.

Yes, sitting across from him is torment. But the alternative is worse, not seeing him at all and having to conjure images of him alone in the quiet of your bedroom.

“Deacon, sir,” Jungwon pipes up from his spot next to Jake, addressing your father directly. “I was going to study with Jaeyun and Yeri at my house if you wouldn’t mind your daughter tagging along.”

The muscle in your father’s jaw clenches. He’s clearly unhappy with one of the attendees being Jake, but he hides it behind a smile. “It’s up to her. What do you think, sweetie?”

On one hand, you should absolutely say no. Jake may take you into a random spot of Jungwon’s house and make any resolve you still have disappear with the flick of his wrist. Even in the company of your friends, you know no place is safe when he’s around and close to you. And were you willing to crumble so easily?

At the same time, the distance is eating away at you. You can’t take another charged glance in your direction, words unspoken but begging to be released. If you have to catch his bedroom eyes on your body one more time, you may just snap in front of everyone, and care little when you do.

“Sure. I’d love to, Wonie,” you say with a grin. “Nishi, you want to come too?”

Riki shakes his head, enjoying the fruitcake your mom set out. “I’ll stay. Someone has to help clean up.” Jake’s mom squeezes one of his cheeks. Riki’s face suddenly turns pink from his aunt’s affection, making everyone laugh.

On your way out the door, your father catches you by the arm. He whispers, “No later than midnight. Understood?”

On the cusp of 10 PM, you want to protest that time with your friends is already so limited, but you obey with a nod and walk out the door. 

When you get in the backseat of Jungwon’s car, Jake too comfortable beside you, you feel your body flicker to life. “So,” you say, “your house then, Won?”

Yeri and Jungwon laugh, a conspiratory look in both of their eyes. “We’re just gonna make a quick stop first.”

Kiss ‘Em Creek was the unofficial name of the lake that ran through your town, a spot for teenagers to spend a few hours alone with their friends or partners. It wasn’t scientifically-correct, but it stuck nonetheless, many of the locals taking advantage of the not-so-secret hideaway. What went on there you only heard about through Yeri and the wine moms’ conversations, their voices littered with disappointment and condemnation.

Jungwon parks his car and turns his eyes to meet yours in the rearview mirror, that scheming smile still playing on his lips. “Ready to take a dip?”

Your eyes widen. You shake your head at a rapid pace, making your friends and Jake chuckle. “No way,” you say.

“C’mon babe, live a little!” Yeri winks and exits the car, Jungwon hot on her heels. The two of them begin to strip to their underwear, eager to jump in the water together. Jungwon picks her up in a bridal carry, Yeri laughing the entire way as he takes the first step into the awaiting lake.

As the two lovebirds continue heading towards the water, you and Jake sit in comfortable silence, your heartbeat slowly rising at the prospect of being alone in the car together. No distractions, no disappointed parents, no judgemental hags. Just the two of you under a cloud of stars and beautiful moonlight.

“I didn’t know if you would come tonight,” Jake says, filling the silence with a quiet chuckle. “Thought you were avoiding me at all costs, like I’m some kind of plague.”

“No!” You turn in your seat to face him. His expression is teasing but holds undercurrents of disappointment, clearly confused where your feelings lie. And he has every right to feel that way. One minute you’re wishing he would pull you closer, and the next you feel it’s better he keeps his distance. “I just don’t know what your intentions are.”

His eyes darken and his lips curve into a beautiful but intimidating smile. “Is it not obvious?”

You squeeze your thighs together, a wave of heat spreading through your bones. “Maybe I just want you to say it out loud.”

He scoots closer to you, his chest a heartbeat away from yours. “Well, to start,” he says, “I would really like to kiss you.”

You smile. A breathless laugh leaves your lips, eager to know what it would feel like to touch his mouth to yours. “I’d like that too.”

Jake runs a hand through your hair and rests it on your cheek. His touch is as fragile as the tension between you. “Then what are you so afraid of?”

You shut your eyes, trying to come up with the right words and falling short. “It’s just everyone–”

“Fuck everyone else.” He forces you to look into his eyes, the words leaving his mouth being some of the truest ones you’ve ever heard in your life. “You’re not a bad person or a sinner for wanting what you want.”

“I know that.”

“You may know it but you don’t believe it.” Jake’s lips ghost over yours, his breath tickling your cheeks. “Stop thinking about what everyone else thinks of you. Think of yourself for once.”

Maybe Jake’s right. All of your choices in life have been dictated by what your parents, friends, and total strangers have felt. If you listened to your own heart, you would have left all of them in the dust by now, chasing what you really wanted far away from this place.

At the same time, you’re glad to be in this car with Jake. He’s so close to you, telling you to take the leap and choose yourself for the first time in a long time.

When you press your lips to his, the feeling of his mouth on yours soft and tentative, you know you can’t wake up tomorrow the same person. This choice will ripple into all the choices you make from this moment on, but you don’t seem to care.

All that matters is his mouth, taking more control and setting a fire deep in your belly. He presses his tongue to the juncture of your lips, diving inside without protest.

You moan into his mouth, feeling one hand firmly pressed on your neck as the other runs down your shirt to squeeze at your breast through your clothes.

“Fuck, tell me to stop,” Jake says with a heady whisper, still kneading your breast with his palm. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him to the point you’re halfway on his lap, legs intertwined with his. “So help me God, don’t stop now.”

He snickers, pecking your lips again. “You said his name in vain again.”

You roll your eyes as he chuckles into your neck. “That wasn’t the first thing on my mind.” You move your lips to his cheek. “Or the second.” They trail down to his neck, taking your fantasies and etching them into his skin. “Or third.”

“Fuck,” Jake curses, holding you tight against him. “You’re too good at this.”

You smirk. “Contrary to popular belief, you’re not the first person I’ve ever kissed.”

He laughs, the rumble of it vibrating against your mouth. “I don’t care as long as you keep kissing me.”

“Wasn’t planning on stopping.” By the time you reattach your mouth to his, you’re straddling his lap. His hands are nestled on the small of your back, wanting to inch down further but unsure where or what your boundaries are.

You take the initiative, suddenly bold, and put both of his palms on your backside. “If you wanted to touch my ass, you could’ve just said so.”

Jake licks his lips, his accent coming out in a husky whisper. “I want to touch you in a lot of places. Your ass just happens to be easily accessible right now.”

“Oh really?” You giggle. “Care to enlighten me?”

Jake sharply switches positions, your back against the expanse of the backseat as he towers over you. He rubs his hands across the outside of your thighs, eager but patient. “Gladly.”

He kisses your neck, suckling and licking with perfect pressure, making you whimper. “Jaeyun,” you say out loud, his name coming out like a question more than a statement.

“Use your words, angel. Tell me what you want.” His eyes pass over your face, your kissable lips and lust-blown irises. You’re too entrenched in him now to walk away from this car the same girl, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

It may end badly, crash and burn completely like everyone expects it to, but that’s the last thing you care about right now.

“I want you to touch me.” You take one of his hands on your thighs and place it over your underwear, its center damp.

“Jesus,” he says in wonder, rubbing his fingers against the cotton.

“You just said–oh,” you stop short when you feel Jake’s fingers against your clit. The sensation makes you buck your hips up into him, him discovering the bundle of nerves without trying hard. He’s clearly happy at the wetness he finds. He rubs your folds in the same fashion, biting down on his bottom lip hard.

“You feel so good already. So perfect,” he whispers, taking hold of your lips again with his own while he swirls his fingers in and around your essence. He switches between teasing your clit and rubbing along your pussy, his movements lewd yet graceful. Only when he puts a finger inside of you do you gasp and look at him directly, your eyes clearly giving away your fear.

“What’s wrong, angel? Did I do something?” Concern floods his face, but he doesn’t take his hand away.

“I’ve never gone this far,” you confess, looking to your side to hide your embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me.” He turns your head to face him again, fingers laying under your chin softly. “We can stop now if you want. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do.”

His response makes your heart clench. Most guys, you’d imagine, would be pissed off or pleading with you to continue on, to do what they wanted and enjoy the moment. That was how Jongseong was, pouting the entire time after you told him to pump the brakes on your makeout sessions.

Somehow, with Jake, it feels right to continue. You suddenly have no anxiety clouding your thoughts or expectations weighing on your heart. You kiss his lips tenderly and shake your head. “No, I want this. I want you.”

A cheshire-cat grin spreads across his face before he goes in for another kiss. He runs his tongue along the inside of your mouth as his finger slides across your folds once again. He plunges it deep inside of your heat, your body adjusting to the new sensation with surprising ease.

You thrash lightly underneath him, matching the tempo of his finger with abandon. He slips another digit in, groaning at the feeling of your soft, gummy walls becoming accustomed to him. “You’re taking my fingers so well, angel. ‘S fucking incredible.”

You gasp and feel the fire from earlier heightening in intensity, spreading from your belly into the other seams of your body. It makes your toes curl and your hand press against one of the doors of Jungwon’s car, needing something to clutch onto while feeling yourself losing what’s left of your control.

“Jaeyun, I think I–”

“I know baby,” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re going to feel so good in a second, I promise. Don’t be afraid.”

His thumb makes contact with your neglected clit, rubbing in rapid motions as he pumps his fingers faster in and out of you. You suddenly become overloaded with pleasure; its immensity is something you’ve never felt before. You feel it coat the back of your mouth and take what’s left of your rational senses, your body moving on its own accord as you ride out what’s remaining of your orgasm.

You blush furiously when you come back down to earth, giggling like a schoolgirl as Jake kisses your sweat-drenched cheek. “That was…amazing.”

Jake chuckles, a smirk painting his features. “You’re amazing.”

You tuck your face in your hands, embarrassed but still enraptured by what you just experienced. He pulls one hand away, taking it in his own, his expression suddenly shy. “So, I guess this is the part where I ask you on a proper date.”

You laugh and sit up, placing your panties back around your hips and adjusting your skirt. “I would hope so!”

Jungwon and Yeri choose that moment to run back into the car, their hair drenched but their bodies properly dressed once again. Jungwoon looks at the two of you in the backseat and grimaces. “Not in my car, man!”

Despite the warnings from your parents and the wine moms, you and Jake had become inseparable within a month’s time. It took many late-night impromptu meetings and secret rendezvous to keep your relationship private, but you had succeeded thus far. And it only made the moments you both shared that much more special.

Riki had kept your secret, keeping his eyes out for any prying townsfolk and covering for his cousin and you if need be. Yeri and Jungwon also cheered you on from the shadows, hoping one day you could be public like they were without criticism.

Sitting in the field near the lake, a picnic blanket set across the grass, you have your head in Jake’s lap while he absentmindedly turns strands of your hair into miniature braids. It’s a beautiful Wednesday afternoon, the two of you occupying the resounding forest with no outside influences.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful your hair is?” Jake asks, kissing your forehead before he takes another batch of strands in his hand. If he has to pick one of your best attributes, in his words, he’d say it was a tie between your lips and your hair, the two of them constantly making his heart race. You called him a liar, but as time revealed, he was nothing but honest with you every day, and not just about what turns him on. 

Over time, you discovered his fears, his ticks, his aspirations past the small town you both found yourselves in. You admire his vulnerability, how open he is when sharing the thoughts that occupy his mind.

“At least three times already,” you tease, running your hand across his leg.

“It’s not bad to hear it a fourth time, right?” He plants another kiss to the crown of your head. He drops the braid he’s just made across your face, making you laugh.

“I’d rather hear how work went today,” you say, getting up to press your back to his chest, snuggling into him.

He shrugs, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Not much to talk about. Working with roofs all day isn’t exactly exciting, angel.” 

You know Jake doesn’t want to work at his dad’s construction company for the rest of his life. However, it provides stability, and that matters a lot to him. He knows what it did to his aunt when Riki’s father walked out early on in his cousin’s life, and he wouldn’t wish that lack of support on anyone.

“At least you’re not running a tutoring center and a daycare in the same church,” you joke, your tone anything but humorous. The brood you dealt with every day was completely unlike Riki. They were kids that were carbon copies of their parents, children that would one day become exactly like their absentminded fathers and speculatory mothers. It put a taste in your mouth you couldn’t stomach.

You fall into steady silence, the uptick in both of your nerves ebbing away the longer you hold each other. Sure, Jake hates roofing as much as you hate disciplining whining toddlers and helping apathetic tweens with mathematics, but it doesn’t matter at this moment.

All that does is each other, enjoying the midweek sunset and the sounds of the birds flying overhead.

“What would you do if you were somewhere else?” Jake asks into the crook of your neck.

You grin, imagining a world of possibilities. The question never came up before, not from him or anyone else. It opens up a plethora of choices in your mind, but you narrow them down quickly, knowing what your heart truly desires.

“I’d like to teach,” you answer. “Really teach, maybe at a university. Something like poetry.” You turn to look at him, a newfound fire in your eyes. “Yeah.”

Jake smiles back at you, moving stray strands of hair from your shoulder to rest his head there. “I think you’d be great at that.”

“What would you do?”

Jake ponders the question, going over it in the same way you were moments before. You see realization wash over his features, and it makes you smile. “I think I’d write. Not literature or anything, but songs maybe? Teach music in the meantime. Still have to make money somehow, y’know.”

You giggle and push him down on the picnic blanket, running your fingers through his hair. “Sounds like a plan.”

He nods, sharing your happiness. “Maybe a kid and a dog can fit somewhere in that plan.”

Chuckling, you raise one eyebrow. “As long as I’m not having a baby out of wedlock, that sounds perfect to me.”

He turns you both over, covering your body with his and kissing you intensely. The passion runs from his body to yours, your heartbeats matching in their strong beats against your chests. “Perfect,” he whispers, his lips meeting yours once again.

It may be too soon to call it love, but you know you’re tiptoeing that line, and you wouldn’t mind falling headfirst on the other side of it as long as Jake’s there waiting for you.

“Are you sure they don’t know I’m here?” Jake asks, hesitant to walk up the stairs to your bedroom.

“It’s fine! They’re at a seminar all weekend with Reverend Park and his son, I promise.” You kiss his lips before running up to your room. Still on the fence, you hear his tentative footsteps trudging behind you.

Another few months rolled by, and your parents had softened to the idea of Jake being around more often. He showed up with his parents to church every Sunday, even if you both snuck off to make out in the backwoods when nobody was paying attention.

He’d stick around for the deacon’s sessions with Akemi, brightening her spirits with his guitar and a couple of songs to replace the ones she missed during normal processions. It helped that she seemed to be getting better, slowly but surely, with treatment and daily prayer.

When you heard your father call Jake a “nice kid,” you knew they were turning a corner in their relationship that you wished for since the night Jake kissed you in Jungwon’s car.

Now, that doesn’t mean they would be happy with finding him in your bed on a Friday night, but you’ve broken enough rules at this point. What’s one more?

“You’re trying to get me killed,” Jake jokes as you rip his shirt from his body, discarding the article of clothing on your bedroom floor. You sit on your bed and marvel at the muscles on his chest and stomach, all of it yours to caress and kiss at any time.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll follow you to heaven,” you tease, pulling him closer to kiss his body. Each press of your lips to his skin makes him tremble, cursing quietly to himself at the feeling.

“With the way you’re touching me, I doubt either of us will make it there.”

You giggle and link his mouth to yours. You moan when his tongue hits the roof of your mouth.

The intentions you had for tonight definitely involved numerous bouts of kissing, but the way Jake’s making you feel will certainly end up with his face or fingers between your legs. And as good as that sounds, you don’t want him derailing you from completing your mission.

There had been so many moments of him giving you pleasure up to this point, you wondered how he had stayed so composed and content after without expecting anything in return.

So, tonight, you decided to give him a bit of satisfaction, even if you’re walking into such activities without any kind of road map. Yeri gave you a handful of tips, but doing it for real is another beast entirely.

“Jaeyun, wait,” you say, taking his face in between your hands.

He looks up at you with eager eyes, wondering why you pulled him away from your neck. “What is it?”

“I want to take care of you this time.” You say, hoping your expression gives off the confidence you’re trying to portray. “I’ve never done it before, but—“

“And you don’t have to, angel,” Jake says with a dopey, relaxed smile. What on Earth and heaven did you do to find a guy like him?

“Please,” you beg, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. “I want to try.”

Jake’s conflicting feelings are evident in his eyes. Surely any man wants his girlfriend to go down on him with the same eagerness that you're giving him right now, but he doesn’t want you to feel obligated. 

In his mind, pleasure isn’t about some sort of trade-off. He makes you feel good because he wants to, not because it’s some duty he has to fulfill and expects to be paid back for later.

But, you asked so nicely and your eyes shine up at him so beautifully. He feels his resolve crumble enough to concede and do what you want.

You begin to unbutton his pants, your fingers twitching not from fear but excitement. When you pull down his jeans fully and see the outline of his bulge in his briefs, your mouth falls open slightly at the size.

Could it fit in your mouth if it was that big?

Jake chuckles and takes your hand to press to the gaping material covering him. “It won’t bite.”

You look up at him and begin to stutter, unsure how to continue once you take off his underwear. “D-Do you want me to use my hands first?”

“Whatever feels right to you, angel. I trust you.” He rubs his thumb across your cheek, and it calms all the nerves that came to the surface.

It’s in those three words that you find the courage to pull the remaining article of clothing off of him, taking in the sight of his cock in all its glory.

You gulp hard, trailing your eyes from the tip to where it adjoins to the rest of him. You’ve never seen one up close before, and you feel like you’re invading his privacy as you stare at it for another long minute. But who can blame you?

“It’s all for you, baby,” Jake whispers. “Do whatever you want.”

You feel a sharp pang of heat at the center of your thighs, his words spurring you on. You spit into your hand, as Yeri instructed, and wrap your hand firmly around Jake’s cock. With an easy but deliberate pace, you look at Jake directly to see if you’re starting off on the right foot.

And boy were you.

Jake hisses at the feeling of your hand encasing him, loving the tightness of your fingers as they continue sliding up and down his dick. He had envisioned this many times in the solitude of his bedroom, images of you and your beautiful body writhing underneath him enough to get him off. But those nights were nothing compared to this.

“Are you ready for my mouth now?” You ask timidly. Jake wants to laugh at how innocent you sound, the words coming so naturally off of your tongue.

“Yes, angel, please,” he answers, wanting to caress you by the hair and guide you down to his awaiting, leaking cock.

You move closer until you're an inch away from his tip. Flattening your tongue to take it into your mouth, you keep watching Jake’s face for the right signals.

His mouth opens, a satisfied whine leaving his lips. You feel a wave of pride at the fact he’s enjoying it so much, egging you on further.

“Your mouth feels so perfect wrapped around me,” he confesses. He soaks in the sensation of your lips and teeth softly running over the veins of his cock, your head bobbing across his length skillfully. How can an innocent and dutiful daughter like you give such mind-blowing head?

He can’t ruminate on the answer long, releasing a guttural moan as he feels his tip hit the back of your throat, the gag that rumbles from you making his cock even more sensitive.

“Angel, I’m gonna come soon,” Jake warns. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, let me know now.”

You look up through your lashes at him as you continue sucking on him with fierce passion, swirling your tongue across his tip. 

His hand is wrapped firmly in your hair now, fucking your face as softly as he can without forcing anymore of himself down your throat. When you take a hand to cup his balls, softly kneading them between your fingers, he’s done for.

He whines pathetically as his seed shoots inside your mouth. The taste isn’t particularly pleasing, but you milk it for what it’s worth to watch him fall apart so perfectly under your attention.

The orgasm rocks through him with an unshakeable amount of pleasure, his body completely helpless as he continues to spurt into your mouth. He can only hiss and whine as you continue to touch him, letting him come down fully and taking all of him without complaint.

Jake breathes in deeply when he gains clarity again, taking you in his arms and shoving his tongue deep in your mouth. “That was probably the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten,” he states, running his fingers over your face with adoration.

You scoff and roll your eyes, his words making you shy. “I doubt it, seeing as that was my first one.”

“It was!” Jake puts a hand on his heart. “Swear to the savior himself.” Before you can rebut, Jake takes your legs in his hands and moves you to the edge of the bed.

You wake up to the hard knocks at your bedroom door, the morning sun peeking out of your window to prove the previous night has long gone.

“Honey? What did we say about locked doors in this house?”

Your father’s booming voice makes you jump up from bed, smacking Jake hard on the shoulder and chest to wake him up.

“We had an odd feeling at the hotel, so we came home early,” your mother says as you shake Jake from his sleep.

“Ow, what the fuck,” Jake grunts, his voice not quiet enough to go unnoticed. You curse yourself and the reality in front of what’s about to happen, knowing full well your parents heard him on the other side of the door.

“Sweetie, who’s in there with you?” Your mother’s shrill but concerned tone makes you cringe. Jake’s eyes bulge in response, quickly leaping from the mattress to pull on his clothes in haste.

Just when you throw your dress from last night over your head and Jake buttons up his pants, your father slams open the door with his shoulder. Your parents gasp and yell at the sight before them, the man they began to grow comfortable with in a compromising position with their only daughter and precious child.

“What in God’s name is he doing here?” Your father asks no-one in particular, stomping towards Jake’s shirtless figure and yanking him by the neck.

“Daddy, stop!” You plead, scratching and clawing at his frame to pull him off of your lover.

Your mother begins blubbering, teary-eyed before you. “Oh honey, what did he do to you?”

“Nothing,” you scream. “Please leave him alone and let us be.”

“I told you to stay away from him.” Your father stares you down, eyes blazing with fury. “Not only did you betray me, but you betrayed the sanctity of your purity. It’s a disgrace.”

Jake coughs, your father’s hands tightening around his neck. “The only disgrace is the two of you holding her back, like she’s some weak bird in a cage,” he croaks. “She can make her own decisions.”

“You stay silent, you insolent pest,” your father growls, yanking Jake out of your room and down the stairs. By the time you and your mother make it out to the bottom step, your father has thrown Jake out and onto the porch.

“Stay away from my daughter, or you’ll have another reason to pray you don’t end up burning in hell.”

“Stop it!” You step in between your father and Jake, the latter putting on what’s left of his clothes. People begin to hover too close to your family home, suddenly entrenched in the scene playing out before them.

Jake kisses your forehead and walks away in the direction of his parked bike, unsure what else he can do unless he wants to truly end up six feet under. 

 Your father grabs you by the upper arm and pulls you in the direction of your porch, but you resist with all your might. “You can’t make me go back in there.”

“I am your father and you will listen to me,” he grunts, holding on tight.

“Daddy, I love him!” You scream as you yank your arm away from your father, your inner strength giving way. “If you can’t accept that, I guess I’ll just have to burn hell with him. Better than wasting another second here.”

You run toward Jake’s bike and sit behind him, cinching your arms around his waist. He smiles to himself, feeling the press of your chest to his back as he puts his helmet over his head. “Are you sure about this, angel?”

You nod furiously, not bothering to look back at your red-faced family. “More than I’ve ever been.”

All you focus on is his motorcycle rumbling to life before you speed away. Your hair blows in the wind as you both escape the horrified stares of the local vipers.

You end up at a motel on the other side of town, far away from the scandal that’s surely rocking your small community by now. The deacon’s daughter running away with the bad boy next door? What a tragedy!

You run inside to miss the upcoming rain, both of you shivering from the barrage of pellets that did land on your skin. You settle onto the mattress as Jake drops the small amount of belongings he had in his possession on the dresser.

He turns to you with quiet concern, arms splayed out on the furniture as he looks at you, searching your face for any lingering doubt. “No regrets?”

You shake your head, exhausted but glad to be out of that house. “None at all.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and sits down beside you on the bed, rubbing your thigh with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

Your brows knit together, confusion pouring over you. You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”

 You feel tears build at your eye ducts, your voice suddenly growing thick when you recall the scene from an hour ago. “I’m sorry my father was so horrible to you.”

“Hush, it’s okay,” he puts his other hand on your face. He kisses your lips tenderly and gracefully. How did nobody else but you see he possessed the most kind nature of anyone you’ve ever known?

Jake moves his head, his lips curving into the smile that always takes your common sense away. “I love you too, by the way.”

Your confession from earlier hits you like a heavy rock, your eyes going wide and your face turning pale. “That wasn’t the way I wanted to say it.”

“Then say it now,” Jake urges, your face resting gently between his fingers.

There’s no fear or pressure when the three words leave your lips, only the feeling of a weight lifting off of your chest. “I love you, Sim Jaeyun. I love you with my whole heart.”

His face lights up, the words seeming to set aglow something deep within him. The only right reaction seems to be in the form of his lips attaching to yours in a passionate kiss, your shared love creating a beautiful path forward for the both of you.

He whispers his next words so lightly, you almost assume the statement is a figment of your imagination. “Marry me.”

You feel your face contort into a mixture of disbelief and elation, needing to hear him say it again for it to truly resonate. “What?”

“Marry me,” he repeats, his smile stretching across his face. “Marry me now, or in three months from now, or whenever you want. Just say you will.”

You exhale a breath of astonishment, unsure if he knows how much you want to say yes, to make this as real as it sounds on his lips. He leaves your side with a kiss to your temple to grab something from his jacket. 

He comes back in record time, standing in front of you and twiddling the black box in both of his hands with anxious fingers. “I brought it with me to your house last night, I just didn’t know how to ask then. But I do now.”

Like in all the stories you’ve read and movies you’ve seen in your lifetime, he sinks down onto one knee before you. You place a hand over your mouth as he opens the box, a ring with an opal-shaped diamond cushioned in the center.

“Would you please do me the honor of being my wife?” Those words on his lips, visibly shaken from his own question, make a thousand butterflies flutter inside your chest.

Months ago, if you knew then you would end up here, from the edge of the sidewalk to now, you would not change a single moment. The world had been so gray before, you didn’t know what it was like to step in the sun until he came into your life. What other answer is there?

“Yes, yes, yes,” you respond, tears flooding your eyes as he shakily places the ring on your finger. It fits just right, the stone at the center sparkling in the darkness of the motel room.

You kiss Jake’s lips with all the force your body possesses, certain there’s no better future than right beside him.

The feeling of the gold band around your finger makes Jake shudder as it touches his cock. Your body is nestled perfectly on top of his as you take what you can’t put in your mouth between your fingers.

He laps up your essence with his tongue, ecstatic to have his face covered in your juices and smothered if need be by your wet cunt. If people think wedding nights are magical, engagement nights have to be a step up.

“Fuck, Jaeyun, yes,” you roll your hips into his awaiting mouth, his tongue available for you to lay your slit onto. The expletive leaves your mouth like honey, the feeling fitting for such a dirty word.

He knows exactly how to make you fall apart and be put back together, and the thought of doing this for the rest of your life makes you want to cry again from the pure happiness inside your core.

Jake takes his lips off of your pussy and sits up. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he takes you into his lap on the bed and kisses you fiercely. You taste yourself on his tongue as he skillfully takes your breath away with his lips. When you part, he says, “Angel, I know we said we’d wait, but I don’t know how much longer I can handle not being inside of you.”

You whimper at his words and suddenly rock your center into the tip of his cock, making him groan in the process. “I mean—we’re just starting early, right?” 

Jake releases a joyous laugh and kisses you hungrily, his face in a constant state of ecstasy since you said “yes” hours ago. “Right.”

 The anticipation makes you even wetter, crawling to the head of the bed as Jake grabs a condom from the bedside table. If there was one thing he had promised, he swore he wouldn’t get you pregnant. Not yet, anyway.

He rolls the rubber over his cock before joining you on the bed, lining up perfectly with your center. He rubs his tip against your folds, biting his lip at how easily it gets coated in your essence. “Ready?”

You nod eagerly, a smirk filling the entire bottom half of your face.

He pushes the tip in, the pressure a foreign feeling you had never experienced before. It took time and practice to get used to the size of his fingers, but this is another level of fullness that takes your breath away.

Once Jake’s partially inside and gives you a moment to adjust, he asks, “Can I move?”

You nod your head, holding onto his shoulders for support as he begins to thrust inside of you. He loves to see his cock disappearing between your legs, your body eagerly taking him in and stretching itself out to accommodate him. He loves the way you whimper at the movement of his hips and the pleasure you’re receiving.

Better yet, he loves you. He loves all of you, from the nonsensical words you speak in your sleep to the wrinkle between your eyebrows when you get mad. You’re all his, and he’s grateful to be the only one you call yours.

“We may never leave this motel,” Jake says, his words breathy as he continues moving his hips. “I could stay inside of you for the rest of my life, angel.”

“I love you so much,” you say, inching your hand between your bodies to roll your clit between your fingers.

“I love you,” Jake says. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you like he wants to pour all of his emotions from his being into your soul, just so you know how deep his love for you goes.

It’s all so overwhelmingly beautiful, you feel the swell of your release cresting over you like a tidal wave. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” you whisper, your mouth open wide from the moans and cries you cannot suppress.

Jake groans and slams his hips into you harder, filling you to the hilt repeatedly. “Come, angel. Come for me.”

You cry out as the orgasm takes hold of your body, your fingers working on their own accord on your clit as you fall off the edge.

Jake stills not a second later, releasing into the condom and taking the last remnants of his energy to thrust inside of you a few more times.

He pulls out and throws the rubber in a nearby trash can. His sweaty body clings to yours, hands rubbing up and down your arm tenderly as he kisses the curve of your shoulder.

You see the flash of your ring in the glow of the motel’s neon sign, and you think about how the night could not have gone any better.

Jake may be a bit reckless and not what you initially imagined for your future, but now that you have him, you wouldn’t give him up for anything. All the parts of you that stayed buried for so long have resurfaced because of him, and you could not be more grateful.

With your left hand a touch heavier than it was some hours ago, you fall asleep to the sound of the rain hitting the window and Jake’s rising and falling chest.

You walk out of your mother’s house, happy to have made a visit with her before she ran off to do her morning errands.

What you’re not pleased to encounter is the same crowd of women huddled with their homemade fans and cups of lemonade. They weren’t there when you arrived a few hours ago.  Of course they show up when you have no chance of escaping them, like the vultures they are.

“Mrs. Sim,” Mrs. Choi says, her tone entirely made of stone with little warmth. “Pleasure to see you.”

Your new surname gives you indescribable amounts of happiness. It took your parents some time to get used to, but eventually, they realized you put your heart in the right place. Your father took his sweet time getting there, begrudgingly admitting a short time ago Jake is a very acceptable son-in-law, the turnaround of his perception of your husband complete.

You give the crotchety ringleader a fake smile and attempt to walk away, but Mrs. Lee interjects. “How’s your mister doing working at the church now?”

“Great,” you say, genuinely happy to talk about a topic you care for. “Jaeyun loves the kids. Little Yuna might actually be a guitar prodigy from what he’s told me.”

They all coo, practically synchronized in their sips of lemonade and fan flurries.

“Soon enough you’ll have one of your own, I’m sure,” Mrs. Choi remarks with sarcasm, her red-lipstick-stained front teeth on full display.

“Not too soon now,” Jake suddenly says, walking up the pathway to your mother’s house and taking you in by the waist. “My wife has to finish her Masters first. How else is she gonna start teaching at the community college?”

My wife. No matter how long it’s been since you officially got married in your church, that day a year ago forever ingrained in your memory, it still warms you to the bones hearing those words leave Jake’s lips.

The women all express signs of agreement, some nodding while others hum.

“We better get back home now, but you ladies have a nice day!” Jake bids them goodbye and walks you both down the stairs with his hand on the small of your back. Even if he were to be more than the perfect gentleman in front of them, they would still linger around with pesky eyes and constantly moving lips.

“They’re still betting we’re gonna crash and burn, aren’t they?” Jake whispers, teasing you with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

You shake your head. You fall more in love with him every day that passes, no matter what the people around you do or don’t see. They may have their opinions, but it won’t shake the foundation you’ve built. “Well, they’re sure to be disappointed if I have anything to say about it.”

Jake’s eyes widen, his expression humorous yet surprised. “Easy, angel. Don’t want to have to tear my wife off of a nosy wine mom.”

Your heart aches at his words, him fully aware of what two of them in particular do to you. “I love you.”

Jake grins, inching his face closer to yours. “I’d love nothing more than to kiss you right now, but what would everyone say?” He asks with a mock face of horror.

You shrug without much care, grinning. “Someone once told me ‘fuck everyone else.’ And right now I couldn’t agree more.”

Jake laughs before he places a gentle kiss to your lips, the sun radiating off of him in waves as he pulls you closer.

No matter what anyone in your small town has to say, your choices are yours; you’re perfectly happy with how your life has turned out whether they think so too or not. And you will always choose Sim Jaeyun, now and forever.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[blondieeu]

scarlet. eijirou k.

"please 'shima.."

you whispered looking up through your pretty lashes at him, his gorgeous scarlet red eyes looking down back at you as he smiled in the shared ecstasy, your legs quivering atop his sweaty shoulders. kirishimas thrusts were deep, slow and sensual. he wanted to watch you slowly get closer to your high- he thought you looked pretty while you begged him to fuck you faster.

you really, really didn't know how you ended up like this. what the hell even happened?! jeez.

"please what mama? use your words."

he watched his chain dangled in your face, it was a pretty gold one and it had a pendent on the end it had some woman's face on it but you didn't think too much of it, maybe it was his mom or a girlfriend but regardless, kirishima inhaled your scent like a fucking drug, almost addicted. he drunk you whole, like fine wine on a friday night.

you reached your hands up towards his face and pulled him into a deep kiss. his hands traveled down your body and towards your clit, rubbing it as his pase eventually got faster too which you gradually got louder with his speed. it's like he knew your body like the back of his hand. he already had your legs shaking and your body hot but cold from the air hitting the sweat.

"jus' like that shima.."

"jus' like that huh, pretty?"

kirishimas voice slurred as moans erupted from his throat, his hands now on your hips. Your moans voice rang along with his endless moans throughout his room, the noise drowning out the faint sound of cars passing his apartment, the pearls you'd gotten for your 21st birthday clanged together and added to the collage of sounds.

"you're fucking disgust-ing, you dont even really know..me"

kirishimas voice started to become choppy and broken from his moans and his uneven breathes and his fingers dug themselves deep into your hips as you could only moan in anticipation— well his hands were really everywhere, from your tits to your neck he didn't want anything to go untouched by him.

You hadn't really been to aware of how you got here, the last hour had been a blur. Only being able to remember kirishima sweet talking you, then literally almost fucking in the cab back to his place, not that you minded, kirishima was hot! His lips pulled away from yours as he frantically kissed your neck, his hands continuing to feel you up.

"shima.."

You whispered, kissing his soft lips, a pinkish-red from irritation— from your teeth clashing on one another's so often with how messily you made out with one another. you hadn't thought your teasing would lead this far but again you didn't mind.

"mmph, fuck—

The words slipped out of your mouth, through kirishimas ears and out the other as his cock violated your gummy hot pink walls. His tongue wrestled with yours, his hips constantly thrusting into yours as a way to win the fight knowing the way it made you gasp and whine.

The two of you kissed for so long that you had to pull away for air but not before immediately going back in, it's like you were dying for one another. Like if you pulled away he would crumble and fall apart in your very fingers and turn to dust. Your moans were like soft melody's to his ears, he wanted to hear it over and over again, he could never get tired of it.

"mm..s'clos-e."

"y'gonna cum for me mama? go 'head baby, cum..let me hear how good it feels"

blondieeu xx

[peachesofteal]

pls let Simon hold that baby 🥺

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild suggestive content, mention of spanking - could be considered mildly dark and twisty

"Oh, you came!"

What? Yes, he came. You invited him, didn't you? Wasn't that... did he get this wrong? "Er, yeah... I thought you said-"

"I did, I did. Come in." You step to the side, allowing him entry into the hallway where the smell of something incredible lingers, pulling at the pockets of his cheeks. You can cook. Judging by the scent of roast chicken and herbs that fill the room, he knows immediately that you're better than the 'subpar' dinner you mentioned yesterday. "You just ah, seemed unsure. I didn't want to assume." His hand pats his pocket instinctively, seeking the mask, trying to fight the urge to pull it over his face, pleasantly surprised you don't seem off put by his face, or the fact that it's the first time you've seen him without it.

"I had some things going on today, wasn't sure about my schedule until a few hours ago." Lie. It's a lie, a bold faced one. He knew he'd be here from the moment you had rushed out the invite, offering to cook him dinner as he dwarfed you inside your cozy apartment, dead smoke detector batteries in his hand.

"Well, thank you for coming. And thanks for all your help yesterday. I couldn't figure that stupid thing out to save my life." You laugh, teeth exposed, easy and carefree. A shiver ricochets down his spine. Why you let him inside your flat the first time, he'll never understand. Maybe one day, he'll reprimand you for it. Chide you for letting a stranger inside your home, remind you to be more cautious. He would explain why you need to more careful, more observant of your surroundings, as his thumb rubbed away the fat tears falling over your cheeks, the result of him taking his palm to your ass a dozen times for the slip up. Can't be makin' mistakes like that, love. Not with it just being you and the baby when I'm not here- he'd tell you, make you promise not to do it again, soothing your tears with cool cream against your skin and gentle, but firm, reassurance.

You just need someone to take care of you, that's all. Teach you.

Emmaline makes a noise, a half babble, half cry, and it breaks him from his reckless daydream, bringing him back to reality in a matter of seconds. What is he thinking? You're his neighbor. He doesn't even know you.

"Thanks for inviting me." You're bent at the waist, hands pulling a roasting rack from the oven, perfectly cooked bird sitting on a bed of potatoes and carrots, and his stomach rumbles almost loud enough for you to hear.

"I owe you. That beeping would've kept little miss here up for hours." You jerk your head in Emmaline's direction, where she's fixated on you, mouth hanging half open. "Needs a few more minutes." You mumble to yourself, and then turn around again. "Do you want a drink? I've got some lagers, and a bottle of wine somewhere." Your fingers knot together, words on the tip of your tongue hopeful, almost... nervous, and you give him another smile, albeit this one is less confident.

"A lager would be good." He tries to settle you by being agreeable, and you produce two from the fridge, your fingers brushing against his when you hand one to him, skin warm and so, so soft, the kind of soft he's rarely felt, the kind that feels like silk against sandpaper. Yours against his.

"So, you said you travel for-" Your question is interrupted by a shriek, a demanding cry from Emmaline, her little fists waving in the air at you, like she's indignant about the redirection of your attention. You pick her up, yellow jumper bright against your red apron, and you shoot him an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, I was hoping she'd be down by now but, she's just been so fussy lately." You bounce her back and forth, cries quieting until she's just blinking at you with wet eyes, and the timer on the oven goes off. "Shit. Ah..." You look at her, and then look at the oven. "Can you, would you mind?" You extend your arms, Emma inside them, and he puts every piece of his training to use trying to control his reaction.

His heart soars.

His brain panics.

"Yeah, okay." He says, and you dip forward, pushing her into his arms. He knows how to hold a baby, held Joseph plenty, and she seems to agree, settling in against his chest, hands grabbing at his sweatshirt, tugging and trying to eat the fabric. She's light, lighter than he expected, but still sturdy, and when her lips shift into a gummy smile as she makes eye contact with him, he feels everything logical inside him shutting down.

Beautiful baby girl, and her perfect, sweet, angel of a mum.

He'll be keeping you.

He'll be keeping you both.

[babyleostuff]

today was (not) a fairytale

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!mingyu x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k

. . . mingyu forgets about your anniversary

mingyu was a busy guy, that was obvious. but one thing he was never too busy for was you. it didn’t matter if it was just a can you couldn’t open, or a spider that had to be killed - mingyu was always there for you, no questions asked. to be honest, you could call him and tell him you wanted a hug, and he’d drop whatever he was doing just so he could trap you in a bear hug for the rest of the evening. that was how whipped he was. 

and now he was late. two hours. 

at first you thought something had happened - you texted some of the boys to ask if they knew where he was, you called his mom - you even checked the latest news, worried to see any updates about a car accident. 

nothing. 

sitting at an expensive restaurant full of people by yourself was humiliating enough, but what bothered you even more was that it was supposed to be your anniversary dinner. mingyu never missed any milestones of your relationship, he even bought you small gifts on the date you had your first kiss. 

then it hit you - his location. quickly pulling your phone out of your bag, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

he was at seungcheol’s place. 

not bothering to call your boyfriend - it wasn’t like he was answering any of your calls before, so why bother - you called the oldest boy, fiddling with your napkin that you wouldn’t be probably using tonight either way. 

“hey, is everything okay?” seungcheol asked immediately. it wasn’t often that you called him, especially at such a late hour, so he figured something must have happened. 

“is mingyu with you?” you heard some shuffling in the background, and noises that sounded a lot like your boyfriend and hoshi. 

“um, yeah. you want me to pass him the phone?” you could clearly hear seungcheol’s confusion in his voice, but you weren’t in the “shitting rainbows and unicorns” mood, so you didn’t even bother with hiding your annoyance. 

“fan-fucking-tastic.” 

you couldn’t believe he actually forgot about your anniversary. you had been planning this date for such a long time now. getting a reservation at this restaurant wasn’t easy, even mingyu had to pull a few strings and flash a couple of polite smiles, so you could come here on the exact day of your milestone. you prepared matching outfits for god’s sake. how could have he forgotten? 

“tell him not to come back home tonight,” you said, and hung up the phone before seungcheol could say anything. 

you spend the whole ride home trying to keep your tears from falling. you didn’t know what was worse - sitting in a restaurant for two hours waiting for someone who was over at his friend’s house drinking soju, or that the love of your life forgot about something so important. 

the second you got inside your apartment you practically ripped off the dress you were wearing, suddenly almost disgusted by the feel of it on your skin. your shoes joined soon after, and not even five minutes after getting back home you got changed into PJs (for once not being mingyu’s shirt), and poured yourself a glass of wine. 

“happy anniversary i quess.” 

when you were about to turn off all of the lights in the living room for the night, you heard the door open and close with much more force than needed. 

“baby? baby, where ar-,” he emerged from around the corner, stopping right in front of you. you took in his form - hair tousled from the wind, his shirt from practice still on, and shoes on his feet, which never happened - mingyu never wore shoes inside the house. huh, he must’ve been in a real hurry to get here. 

“i’m so sorry, i got here as quickly as possible,” he said, a little out of breath. you had to stop the urge to laugh in his face because what the hell? 

“too bad you didn’t bother to show up where you really were supposed to be, mingyu,” you snickered, anger radiating off of you. your boyfriend knew he was in deep shit the second seungcheol shot him a worried look, and how he would make it up to you, he had no idea. 

“i know, baby-,” 

“don’t call me that. you don’t deserve it mingyu,” you pointed a finger at his chest. just then he noticed you got your nails done to match the design on his tie, and he could swear he died a little bit at that moment. “do you have any idea how humiliated i felt sitting there like an idiot, waiting for my fucking boyfriend who decided to go out with his friends on our anniversary?” 

“i called your friends, your family. i thought you got into an accident for fucks sake,” your voice cracked at the end of the sentence, as you finally felt something else than just anger. the thought of losing mingyu wasn’t something you wanted to think about on your anniversary night. “i was so excited for this, and you knew it,” you took in a shaky inhale, once again feeling the tears brimming in your eyes.  

it took everything from you not to hug mingyu, he looked so… sad, and just so defeated, and that wasn’t something you were used to seeing on your boyfriend’s face. 

“there are a thousand excuses on my mind right now, but none of them will excuse my behaviour,” he sighed, his lower lip trembling. please don't cry, please don’t cry. “i forgot,” he said, straightening his back a little. “i simply forgot, and nothing i do will make up for it.” 

tears clouded your eyes, and you couldn’t help when they started falling down your cheeks, probably ruining the makeup you put so much effort into. if you knew you’d end up crying on your anniversary night you’d use a waterproof mascara. mingyu hesitantly raised his hand, as if he was afraid you’d run away from him, but when he saw you didn’t move an inch, he started wiping off the tears of your face with a gentle swipe of his thumb, almost as if you were about to fall apart. 

“say something. no, yell at me,” he said, and put your hand against his chest. “you can even hit me,” mingyu said, pleading in his eyes. “please, just do something.” 

“i don’t want to yell at you,” you sniffled, wiping off the rest of the tears yourself. “and i definitely don’t want to hit you. i just-,” you looked at him and only then noticed the dark circles under his eyes. did his face get slimmer too? “when was the last time you slept?”

he looked a bit taken aback by your question, considering he was begging you to hit him like a second ago. “to be honest, i don’t know, but i took some naps in the practice room. that’s not import-,”  

“when was the last time you ate?” you interrupted him again. 

his eyes softened because there was no way he just stood you up on one of the most important days of the year, and you were asking him about his well being. “i don't know.” 

i don’t know. hearing those words from a person who inhaled food like a vacuum, and could never say no to a snack broke your heart. how did you not notice how exhausted he was before? 

“oh, mingyu,” you said, tearing up again. “why didn’t you tell me, i would’ve brought you some food.” 

“i know, but i didn’t want to burden you. i knew i’d be fine,” he said, voice gentle. “besides, that’s not important now. let’s talk about how big of an asshole i am,” he grabbed your face in both of his hands, tilting it more upwards. 

“how can you say it’s not important?” you murmured, nuzzling your face further into his palm. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you without food for longer than an hour.” 

“hey, i don’t eat that much,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his words, and seeing mingyu’s face lit up at your, albeit quiet, laughter, you felt the anger leaving you for good.  

maybe you were too selfish? all you lived for for the past week was the date, but in the process you managed to somehow miss how exhausted your boyfriend was. yes, he did forget, but he was so overworked lately, you couldn’t really blame him, right? and it wasn’t like you were a saint either, you missed some dates in the past too. 

“whatever you’re thinking, drop it,” he said sternly. “don’t try to make any excuses for me. i forgot, okay? it’s all my fault.” 

technically you knew you had every right to be furious at him, hell - an hour you cursed him out with every curse word you knew, but maybe it wasn't the time to think straight, and just give the light of your life a second chance. “i don’t want to fight,” you said, wrapping your hands around his wrists. “and we still have,” you looked over at the clock, “two hours before midnight. we have the wine, and i think i have a pizza in the freezer.” 

mingyu shook his head in disbelief. “there’s no way you’re real.” leaning in, he placed a peck on your cheek, filling your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling. “you look beautiful by the way,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours. “i’m really sorry.” 

“i know, gyu. i know,” you whispered. “and mingyu?” 

“yeah?” 

“you can call me “baby” again.”

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[wandaslittleweirdo]

many many stepmommy!wanda thoughts… || part 2

tw: stepcest, implied smut, forced intoxication, toxic relationships/attachments, manipulation, mentions of murder, heavy dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, pet names (bunny, sweetheart, dear), possessiveness, age gap > reader is 22 wanda is 35

stepmommy!wanda ༝༝ fem!reader

ೀ You grew a strong but toxic attachment to your step mother after your dad passed away. You never had a mom, so you didn’t know what was wrong and what wasn’t. Wanda exploited this credulous trait of yours so she could do whatever she wanted too and convince you it’s normal.

If she catches you talking with someone who’s a little too touchy for her liking, or you giving a stranger a shy smile, she immediately rips you from the crowd and drags you home no matter what the situation is. The drive is always cold and quiet, but you’ve gotten used to it.

When you would arrive home, she’d tell you to sit on the floor in front of the couch and wait patiently for her. She’d follow you into the living room not too long after, the neck of a wine bottle grasped firmly in one of her hands. Her lips curl into a small and conceited smirk seeing you all ready for her. Her stride towards you and her stare displays a belittling superiority and dominance, the faint sound of her boots against the carpeted floor always made your heart speed up.

She’d seat herself on the couch and pop open the bottle, her silky voice oozing into your ears like sweet melted caramel. “You know what to do.” She’d wait for you, putting the bottle to your lips and tipping the alcohol into your mouth.

You loved it. The way her eyes turned crazed and feral watching you eagerly chug the drink she forced your throat. And how they would follow any bead of wine that slipped out of your mouth and down to your chest. The utter control and the sick, forbidden rush the older woman gave you had become addictive.

“Say you’re sorry.”

“I’ve done this so many times, Y/N. I’m staring to think you like when I do this to you. Is that it, sweetheart?”

“I’ll kill anyone who touches you, because I’m good like that.” She whispered, her hushed tone accompanied with a small, chilling smile. “I keep you safe. You don’t want mommy to kill anyone, do you?” You shake your head.

“I know it feels weird, but I only do this because I care about you so so much, dear.”

“Trust me, this is normal. All mommies do this.”

She’d wait until your eyes are glazed and your lids become droopy, cheeks flushed and body swaying out of drowsiness before taking the drink away. She places it on the coffee table, inviting you to sit on her lap by tapping her thighs.

“You did so well. Come here.”

“Mommy really wants to touch you, bunny. Just spread your little legs and let me do all the work, I’ll be quick I promise…”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[hexxynn]

you're my forever | best friend! anakin x fem!reader

word count : 10.2k

warnings : MDNI 18+, anakin and reader are 18, angst, angst, so much angst, self deprecation, reader has a mom named lucille, insecure! reader, modern!, jock! anakin, swearing, anakin worshiping the ground you walk on, reader is described as having a tummy!, praise, even more praise, anakin talks you through it, arguing, readers parents are divorced, pet names, virgin! reader, oral (f receiving), piv, no condom mentioned (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, aftercare (i think that's all?)

summary : you develop feelings for your long time best friend, anakin. you fall into a pit of bedrot trying to cope and push him away, only for him to push back. what you didn't know is that he felt the same way.

a/n : my first fic ever pls be kind lol, this is my first time writing smut too, so any tips would be appreciated! im lit new to tumblr so please don't be afraid to request anything. also im literally a slut for angsty sex and praise can you tell? also this isn't proofread soz

You didn't know when your feelings had turned from platonic, to overwhelmingly romantic.

Honestly? It was scary.

You had known Anakin for a while, him being your neighbor for most of your life. That was, until you moved, but only to downsize after your parents split. The quaint neighborhood, the only thing you had ever known, being torn away from you. Luckily— your parents didn't want to move far, so you stayed put in the same town, just in different neighborhoods.

You were two when you guys met, both of your toddler selves adorned with the aroma of innocence and childhood. Your moms had both bonded, over the struggle of motherhood, while you two seemed to find each other in the purity of your early years. He came up to you, with a simple ask to push him on the swing; an offer you couldn't refuse. Retorting with an, "as long as you push me after," which couldn't help but earn an eager grin from Anakin.

As you two pushed each other, giggles and laughs emerging from the silence of the neighborhood, your mothers had noticed the bond and smiled; knowing their friendship, and the one forming by the swing sets, would go on past this little encounter. They exchanged numbers, beams from ear to ear, knowing they found comfort in each other, and a pal for their children.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

As time went along, they set up playdates, leaving you two to watch shows, and do little things only young kids would do, whilst they sat on the back porch of your house with a wine glass in hand. You and Anakin would watch silly things, and you would play with his toy cars; in exchange, he'd play dolls with you (no matter how girly it was, or how frustrated he got in his three year old brain).

The neighborhood gossip would flow from their lips. Inside, the sounds of juvenility and jolly would make themselves present in some of your earliest memories. Your moms has been content with the current exchange. The simple call to come over, no matter whose house, with the almost immediate response from the other, and you and Anakin were dragged into their friendship, building one of your own. It worked out nicely.

As you grew up, playdates turned into school, and he was your best friend in elementary. Bus stop hand holding was the cause of teases from the boys (not the girls, who thought it was 'cool' you were able to get a kindergarten boyfriend), eliciting a shrug of nonchalance from Anakin. He would defend you, and go back to the swing sets with you, returning back to your place of blossoming friendship. He didn't care much for what the six year olds had to say, knowing you already for over half of his life. The bond your mothers had created was stuck, and would be for a while.

Once you got to middle school, there was a shift, though. He found his guy friends, understanding the game that adolescents liked to play with jokes and gossip. While he still walked you to the bus stop, he didn't see you as much in school. Especially with the deferring interests you two had grown. You had become a bookworm, immersed in studies as soon as you entered the next phase of your life, while he became athletic and would stay after school to play soccer with the other boys in the field behind school. Nevertheless, he'd come home and his mom would tell him they're going to your house. With no protest— he'd go. He would never turn down seeing you. Without prying eyes and weird looks, he could be himself and return to the faithful friend he'd had for so long. The simplicity and routine created never felt off, even as the times changed. He would always run back to you.

Until High School started. Things changed yet again, messing with the routine you two had created. He didn't walk you, or drive you to school, but would bring you food, smile at you in the halls, and nod his head in the structured environment of school. It was more than middle school. You two still saw each other as much as possible, but hangouts got a lot different. He got into football, and the schedule was rigorous. Yet, you'd still go to his games, cheer him on, and wait until he got home to personally congratulate him. He never even let flings, or girlfriends throughout the years, change his behavior towards you. It had never been explicitly romantic, but you two were closer than most. He'd hold your hand to drag you to his room, and vice versa. He'd let you drape his legs across him on the couch, or let him spin you around in a hug after his games.

He saw you more than middle school, his maturity hitting him slightly. He valued you, and you valued him, and that was one of the first things he'd ever known. This platonic relationship he held with you, was one of the things he cherished most. He wouldn't let anything get between you two, no matter what was to come in the future. He'd never let you go.

You on the other hand, immersed in studies and prepping for college, had turned a lot of hangouts into study dates. Which was okay with him, as long as you two got to see each other. He'd lounge in your room while you sat at your desk with a textbook and computer. He'd bring you food when your mom called that dinner was ready, knowing your academics had pulled you away from reality. His nurturing nature stayed the same.

You two had both gotten into different colleges, across the state. He got a football scholarship, and you got an academic scholarship at a prestigious college on the west side. You knew what was to come as the summer after senior year approached.

What you didn't know was to come, was your feelings towards him.

You didn't know when your hand holding started making your tummy flutter, or when his hands tracing patterns on your calves had you feeling flustered. Sure, he changed a lot in High School. He got muscular, grew his hair out, had more charm and appeal. He had girls swooning. But you? You never expected to be one of those girls.

Coming to terms with your feelings was definitely a task.

At first, it was jealousy. Jealousy towards the girls who were able to openly fawn over him, with Anakin relishing in the attention they bestowed on him. He loved living in this spotlight, and the rush he got when girls would whisper and giggle sentiments about him. He adored all of the looks and the eye fucks he would get in the halls. It was an ego boost.

You wished so terribly you could be one of those girls. The ones he'd kiss after his games, the ones who went out with him on Friday nights. You just weren't that girl.

Sophomore year came with heated jealousy, and Junior year came with longing. Senior year, you slowly came to terms with it. It wasn't until after graduation, when you relished in all the attention he would give you on summer days, that you fully realized what you were feeling. You had never had a boyfriend throughout all your years, academics taking priority over any man.

The beginning of summer was torture.

He was mindful of his last couple of months with you, giving you his full, undivided attention.

And you fucking loved it.

At the same time though, you hated it. The torment of the sudden affection you received, along with an endless stream of texts and calls when you two couldn't be together. It made your feelings all the more real, and you couldn't do it any longer.

You were then slowly trying to distance yourself, for your own sanity, to protect your feelings and soften the blow of college. You were frustrated, angry, and hurt all at the same time. It wasn't his fault, but your brain blamed him for all of it. You were starting to resent him, and hole up in your room, only coming out for meals and water. It had been this way for about a week now, in the middle of June, and the contrast from this to the way you were two weeks before was startling. Especially to Anakin.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Your mom, Lucille, was standing on her back porch per usual, pacing around her best friend, also known as Anakin's mom. Though she was across town, it wasn't far. A mere ten minute drive at most.

"I just don't know what's gotten into her, you know? One minute she's going out almost every day with Ani, the next she's- she's- god!"

Lucille was very annoyed, to say the least. The state she had found you in was worrying her, and her financial situation with college didn't assist in her anxiety.

"Did something happen between her and Ani?" Lucille pondered, quirking a brow up inquisitively at her friend, sighing. "Not that I know of. In fact, he's been asking about her," Shmi sighed heavily. "She might just be stressed about university, you know?"

"I know... but she normally comes to me about these things, Shmi! And now she's this void," Lucille sat down, wine sloshing in the glass.

Shmi rubbed her back, smiling softly. "Just be patient, Lucy, maybe try to have a heart to heart with her? Sit down with her," Shmi pondered.

"Yeah... yeah, sure. I'll do that," Lucille returned the soft expression Shmi reflected onto her, letting out a huff. "Can you come by tomorrow morning? I'll keep you updated," she asked, while Shmi rubbed her back.

"Of course. I'll head home, love you," Shmi replied, standing up and walking into the cool air of the house, watching the moonlight cast the house in a low glow. The hardwood floors leading to the front door were bleached from the sun, it's constant rays hitting the floor from the many windows in the home.

"Love you, too," Lucille wrapped her friend in a hug, wishing her off. "What to do," she looked at her feet, shutting and locking the door, heading upstairs to talk to you.

She heard soft music coming from your room, probably from the speaker Anakin had gifted you Junior year. She recognized the soft hum of your voice, and Lucille was then unsure if she wanted to disturb your peace. But, she knew it was for the better.

A soft knock resonated in the empty hallway, and she heard your hums stop, followed by your music. Your footsteps could be heard trekking to the door, that once opened, revealed darkness in your face.

Your bags were heavy, face devoid of any feeling as you tilted your head to the side, "Hey, what's up?" You muttered, avoiding eye contact with your mother.

"Can I come in?" Your mom requested, analyzing every feature you once held. It was sad, depressing, and a mess all in one. You straightened your spine, opening your door wider and flicking on the light. With no words, you sat on your bed, the white comforter all messy and tangled in an array of clothes; unfolded laundry you were too tired to do.

Your mother sat next to you, placing a hand on your back. "Is everything okay?"

"Mhm, why do you ask?" You force a smile, nodding your head. Your appearance spoke much differently though, along with the state of your bedroom. Your hair in a messy updo, and your clothes scattered around the carpet. Spandex and an oversized tee adorned your figure, hiding the body you once loved to dress up with random articles of clothing, a uniqueness reflected in your personality onto your style.

This wasn't you.

"You've been in your room for a few days now, what happened to your summer plans? The job you were looking for?" Lucille removed her hand, placing her cheek in her hand.

You again avoided eye contact, looking to your window. "I'm just tired, Mama," you replied in a hushed tone, chewing on your already scabbed lip.

"I know, hon, I know. But we're all worried. Me, Shmi, Anakin-"

At the mention of his name, you dropped your head again. Deep down, you knew it wasn't fair to anyone. But you couldn't help it. You'd rather put up your walls before letting yourself get hurt with a stupid crush. "It's okay, I promise," you again put up a facade.

"Is it me? Did I do something?" Your mother started to tear up, placing a hand on her chest. The last thing she'd ever want to do is hurt you. She had never seen this from you before, though.

You finally made eye contact, shaking your head rigorously. "No, of course not. I just need to sleep," you scrunched your nose, trying not to let the tears fall yourself.

"Okay... but if you need anything I'm here, alright?" Lucille stood up then, making her way out the door, shutting off the light on her way out.

In the absence of another person, you felt yourself rotting in self deprecation all over again. The mention of Anakin just hurt you all the more. You hated doing this, you really did, but crying for hours on end seemed to help, even in the slightest.

So, you sat back in your mess of sheets and blankets, music starting up again, as you scrolled through photos of you and Anakin over the years. Even looking at photos of him with girlfriends, his smile brighter than ever. Kisses on cheeks, arms around them in photos. A reminder of something you could never be to him. A hole was making its way into your heart, one that only he could fill, and you were devoid of any reciprocation to your feelings.

But, back at the Skywalker's residence, Shmi had come home, setting her keys on the rack, and plopping down on the couch with a soft thud. Even she was confused and frustrated, thinking of you as one of her own.

At the sound of the door opening, and footsteps, Anakin came tumbling down the stairs, excited to see his mom after a long day of work, knowing she went to your house immediately after her shift.

She perked up at the noise, laying back and turning on the TV. "Hello, Ani," she yelled to the hallway, as he came walking towards the living room.

"Hey, Mom! How was your day?" He asked, setting himself next to Shmi, leaning back in the cushions. His hair was damp from a shower, clad in a black tee and plaid pants.

"It was good, stopped by Lucille's after work," she muttered, with him letting out a chuckle in response. "Assumed so, it's around ten— you're normally not out this late unless it's Lucille's," he nodded. "Did you see Y/N?" He then asked, turning his head to face Shmi.

"No... I didn't. Have you heard from her at all?" Shmi frowned, watching him shake his head and loll it back on the couch, a sigh escaping his lips. "No, I haven't. I'm worried, you know? Did I do something?" He asked, looking for some sort of answer. Your absence was sudden, and no matter how many times he'd call or text, you wouldn't respond. Your location stayed the same as well, the icon staying on your house, so he knew you weren't busy. He didn't want to intrude though, and push boundaries, but he truly had no idea what was going on with you. And it hurt him.

"I don't think so, she's avoiding Lucy as well," Shmi looked at her son quickly while she channel surfed, finding something to hopefully fall asleep to on the plush tan cushions.

Anakin sighed, standing up. "Tell Lucille I'll be over tomorrow, okay? I'll see if I can figure it out, might be too personal to tell her mom about," Anakin assured Shmi, standing up to make his way up the stairs.

"Okay," Shmi replied simply, feeling sleep overtake her soon enough.

Anakin, though, made his way up the stairs, racing to his phone. He pulled up your contact again, pressing the call button, and listening to the same ringing tone that he's heard for the past week bounce off of the walls of his room.

He sighed when it hit your voicemail, the sound of your once cheery self beginning to speak. He hadn't heard your voice in so long, it ached and left him confused. "Tomorrow," he told himself.

He'd see you tomorrow, no matter what it took.

Tomorrow didn't come soon enough, though, leaving Anakin tossing and turning in his sleep. He was so, so tired, so worried, and so anxious about what would happen. He had no idea if he had done something wrong, his brain relentlessly bullying him with 'what if's'. He kept waking up in cold sweats, eyebrows furrowed with concern for you. He cherished you like a lifeline, and he felt like he was slipping away as you did from him. When morning came, he had bags under his eyes, and his hair was tousled with the constant running of his hands through his hair throughout the night. He didn't know what if it went wrong today, or if you gave no response and shut yourself off.

He didn't even eat, too sick to his stomach to do so, waving a small, "bye," to his mother before slipping into his car, and Shmi had sent a text to Lucille as he left.

Shmi

He's on the way.

Lucy

Alright, she's awake. Ty for sending him over 😘

Shmi

Anytime. Want to come over while they talk, give them a little space?

Lucy

On my way.

And with that, Lucille had left her own home, knocking on your door and letting you know where she was going. You had hummed in response, getting into the shower, preparing to repeat the cycle of bed-rot you had created in the recent days.

The water soothed you, hot streams battering on your back as you sunk into the tiled floor. The speaker still let out hushed instrumentals and lyrics of your playlist, allowing you to wallow in your feelings. Not even washing your hair, or your body, you simply laid there. Tears were scarce at this point, not able to flow down your cheeks, as you looked at yourself in your naked state.

You doubted Anakin could ever, ever, love something like this in the way you loved him.

It was honestly sickening, in your opinion, how you destroyed yourself over him. Promises to him left unkept, and your friendship flowed down the drain, following the stream of the water. The sad, angry music you hummed along to only allowed for your wallowing to fester into an ugly knot in your stomach.

Some Phoebe Bridgers lyric had you leaning on the wall, closing your eyes. Too many years wasted. Too many tears shed over Anakin.

As the song was reaching its peak, you were oblivious to the sleek, black jeep that pulled into your driveway. Your room perched in the back of the house, anyway, so it was hard to hear over the shower and the music, along with your own humming. You were unaware of the unlocking of your front door, which Anakin had a key to, and the sound of his footsteps bustling up the stairs of your home. Which would have been bad, had it been an intruder, but it was just your good ol' Anakin.

As he made his way up the stairs, he heard the music in the shower, and the sound of your voice, the murmurs of lyrics you sang along to. He also heard the familiar pattering of your bathroom, having also showered here one too many times after games. Your bathroom was attached to your room, and he didn't want to disrupt, so he simply opened your door and sat on your bed.

When he walked in though, he was shocked. Your entire safe space was in disarray, a mirror of your emotions. If there was one thing about you, though, it was that you were a tad bit messy, but never this bad. He frowned at the thought, and decided to lay back on your messy bed, pulling out his phone to check the time. You should be out soon right?

But as fifteen minutes passed, he was getting impatient. He strolled up to your door, knocking softly.

"Mom, I thought you were at Shmi's?" Your voice was raspy, and quieter than normal, a pang resonating in his heart.

"It's me," he softly said, hand on the door.

You were struck with shock, sitting up immediately, feeling guilty and overwhelmed suddenly.

"I'm busy, come back later?" You pleaded, hoping to avoid him. But if anything, Anakin was persistent, and when he says he's doing to do something, he'll do it. Your brain had hoped silently that he'd take it, making his way out, so you wouldn't have to face him.

He shook his head, "No. We need to talk, now. Are you almost done?" he inquired, leaning his side on the door now, dragging his fingertips over the ridges of the wooden door. You didn't respond, and he didn't hear any movement, so he continued to press. "I swear to God, Y/N, I'll come in there if I have to."

Fear struck your veins, and you stayed silent, hoping he'd go away. "We can talk later, I'm busy," you simply replied, shaking your head at his perseverance. You always adored that about him, but now was a bad time for him to do so. Now, you wanted him gone. He was no longer your sanctuary, but a cause of fear and pain to you. Knowing him, though, he wouldn't stop.

And you were right.

You heard the handle jiggle a little bit, before a groan was let out behind the door. "There is no need to lock the door in your own home," he sighed, turning back to your room. A bobby pin should work, right?

"It's to prevent people from coming in, y'know, like you're trying to do," you rolled your eyes and scoffed, borders and walls making their way back up. You heard his footsteps walking away from the door, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. One obstacle down, right?

But then, you heard the jiggling of the doorknob again, and the click of the lock, and a sense of alarm surged through your veins. "I'm coming in," he announced sternly, before you heard the creak of your bathroom door opening. He had successfully found your bobby pins littered around your vanity, from various updo's you'd style your hair with during school. For a second, he was glad for the mess, which allowed him to find it so easily.

"I'm naked!" You screeched, though the shower curtain covered anything he could possibly see.

He chuckled, scoffing, "I've seen you before," he sarcastically uttered, hands finding purchase on the counter behind him, facing the curtain. The only barrier between you and him in the current moment.

"Yeah, when we were four, asshole," you shot back defensively, groaning at his antics. You still continued to attempt to avoid him, dragging out your shower for as long as possible.

Anakin grabbed the towel off of the seat, reaching into the curtain to shut the water off. "Get out," he demanded, "or I will personally come in there and wrap you in the towel myself," his aggression didn't go unnoticed, knowing now that something was definitely wrong between you and him.

"Fuck, fine," you sneered, standing up and reaching out for your towel, which he handed to you through the curtain. You stood up, wrapping yourself, and peeking through the curtain. Shit, he still looked as beautiful as ever. Even more than the photos you would look at while letting sobs escape your lips. He wore a white ribbed tank top, paired with gray sweatpants, hung low on his hips. He looked like a mess himself, curly hair frayed at his neck, sticking to the skin from the steam.

He raised a brow, looking away in respect for you. "Go get changed, I'll wait here," he muttered, allowing you to be at least respectable before he confronted you. As a result, you zoomed past him, quickly grabbing a pair of drawstring shorts and a hoodie, knowing you wouldn't have to waste time on a bra if you were in something baggier. After slipping into your clothes in your closet, you opened up the bathroom door again, and he followed you forward to the center of your room.

He eyed you up and down, finally taking in your features and your state. Though your hair was dripping wet, he didn't miss the puffy circles around your eyes and the split lip you often had when you worried about something too much. His face softened, ever so slightly, as you sat on the bed in front of him, while he continued to stand in front of your figure.

He broke the silence as soon as you sat, "Y/N..." Anakin muttered, folding his hands across his chest in front of you. You gulped, picking at the strings hanging loose from your shorts, "what's so important that you had to interrupt my shower for?"

"You act like you were doing something important. You've been ignoring everyone for days now," he began, eyeing you up and down as you fidgeted and avoided his eyes. Those damn eyes.

"I was, I was showering. Hygiene is important, Anakin," you retorted, turning your head to the window on your left.

"You know what I mean," he opened up his stance, running a hand through his hair. You hardly ever called him Anakin anymore, just Ani. The fact that you used his first name sent shivers down his spine.

"What do you mean?" You inquired, acting oblivious, hoping he'd leave and let you go back to your previous state. Though, as mentioned, when Anakin was determined to do something, he'd do it.

He took a step closer to you, peering down, "You've been avoiding me for days now. Everyone, for days now," he pouted slightly. "You promised you'd tell me everything, so what's going on? You know I don't judge," he assured you, getting down to face you, sitting cross legged on the carpet of your room.

"It's nothing, I promise," You said the same thing you've told your mother consistently. "It's nothing," you repeated.

"It's not nothing, if it's got you like this," he tried to smile warmly, show you he was there, to bring comfort, to bring peace to your mind. "Yeah, well, it's not something I'd like to share with you."

Now that stung, a pain radiating in his very bones, your words leaving him stunned momentarily. You shared almost everything with him. Everything that ever stressed you, he'd hug you and distract you until you were a laughing and smiling disaster. You had never been so closed off, so defensive.

Unknowingly, unintentionally, he shot back, "I've given you every piece of me to show you how open I am, and you can't do the same back? What happened to you?"

Venom laced his voice, making you finally face him. It made the blow all the more easier, while it also gave you a heartache you couldn't possibly fathom. "Life happened, Anakin. We're no longer silly teenagers living our lives, we're adults. We're growing apart," you let your arms fall to your sides, helpless to the heat and tension growing between you two.

"We're about to go off to college, and I've been spending every waking moment with you. We didn't just drift, something changed. I'm trying my hardest to be here, you know? Support you, give you a hand, and you won't even open up," he shifted uncomfortably, sensing an argument arising, which has never before occurred between the two of you.

"It's nothing you can help, Anakin. It's out of your control, so leave it be, and get out," you persisted.

"Get out? Get out?" He shot straight up, standing up in front of you, inching closer to your balled up figure facing him. "You don't kick me out of a place that is basically my second home," he raised his voice, causing you to stand up to face him at the same time.

Before you could speak though, he continued his banter, "So you admit something is wrong," he pointed to your chest, jabbing your collarbone while he spoke the words, voice booming out in the silence of your bedroom. Your stance was less defensive now, as he slowly broke down the barrier, and he continued, yet again.

"I told you, it's nothing you can help with," you replied with a hushed, raspy voice, not wanting to bicker.

"Just tell me what it is, then? Is it school? Because while I may not be as smart as you, I have damn well studied for hours on end with you. I have given up movie nights, going out with you, for all of that shit. You're perfectly fine. You're set. You've got a scholarship, and you'll be fine!"

He continued to step closer to you, closing the space ever so slowly, as you shrunk under his words. "If it's your daddy, fine! But I watched the divorce, the split happen. I watched as you were torn between your parents, and held your hand through that!"

"So tell me, Y/N, what is different this time around?"

Your throat was dry, not wanting to respond, everything seeming so stupid now. How were you supposed to admit, right to his face, it was him? Anakin, the one who held you, the one who made you laugh, the one making you cry yourself to sleep.

"Is it boy troubles? Because I haven't seen any man swoop down and carry you in his arms, and I would have heard about it from your mom. You haven't told her shit, either. So it's got to be pressing you, huh? Just let it out!"

He continued his verbal attacks on you, his frustrations from everything being let out on you. You wanted to shrink back, run away, but there was nowhere to go. Your gut was churning, bubbling, as a sob almost escaped your throat. "You wouldn't get it!"

"Yeah, I don't fucking get it because you won't tell anyone what's wrong," he immediately responded, again taking another step closer. You swatted the hand that was on your chest away, pushing him back from the close proximity. He stumbled, catching his balance, before turning to the side and letting out a low chuckle. "I see."

He saw the polaroids of you and him, laying on your nightstand, shaking his head, "It's me, huh? What the hell did I do? Just tell me," he almost begged, yelling at the top of his lungs at this point. You glanced back and let tears finally escape your eyes, sniffling from the flow. He noticed, slightly softening, as you began to yell back, finally breaking the dam.

"It is you, idiot! Everything about you. The way you laugh, the way you smile at girls like they're everything to you, bring them home at night to cuddle and hold them. It's the way you style your hair, and the way you saunter with your huge fucking ego!"

Oh, now he was confused. You despised his guts because of the way he was? Always has been?

"And you know- you know, I wish I was one of those girls! But you've never even looked at me that way, Anakin! That's the issue! That you've been so oblivious to the way I've wanted you, turning around and fucking other girls while I wait at home for your text that you're safe! It's all of it, Anakin," you let out a choked sob in the midst of your sentence, looking him directly in the eyes, "You go around and play football and don't even give me a sideways glance in the stands! It's so, so wrong to feel this way about you, someone I'm just supposed to care about. But no, I fucking love you, Anakin, and it hurts, it hurts so much. You sit and flirt with the cheerleaders in the cafeteria, giving them kisses on their temples and wrapping your arm around them, in public! But I will never, ever, be one of those girls to you. I will always be the best friend. I will never get to feel you longing for me, and never get to feel you loving me the same! That's what's wrong!"

You finished, letting out a huff, and realizing what you had done. Anakin stayed silent, processing your words, mouth open in shock. You were so terrified, yet so relieved that you had let everything out all at once. You knew now that you had crossed a line, broken a border down in your relationship with him. It had turned from sweet, innocent bliss, to rage and despair, mixed with love and fury. You knew you could never come back from this, back from the words that flew out of your mouth. You were desperate for him, and you would worship the ground he walked on if it meant you could receive one backwards glance held with the passion he held for the other women. But you knew you'd never get that, and you'd spend all of your life searching for a person to fill the hole he created in your heart, but never quite filling it up fully. It would be like a bandaid, covering it up temporarily, but the wound would still exist. It would still rot underneath your skin.

"You mean it?" Anakin simply said, words quiet, as he took a step towards you again, looking into what felt like your soul.

"Every goddamn word."

As soon as the curse left your lips, he grabbed you so swiftly, so tenderly, colliding his body with yours as his breath fanned across your lips, waiting for you to say no. You froze instinctively, still coming to terms with the fact that his hand was laid on the small of your back, the other placed on the back of your head, inching you closer. Before you knew it, the feeling of his lips encompassed yours, with unspoken feelings reverberating through the action. You immediately kissed back, gripping his shirt with the arms in front of you, pulling him instinctively closer. He pushed your frame impossibly close to his, wrapping his arm tighter around you, clutching onto the hoodie you wore.

His hand had gripped your sopping wet hair, earning a small noise elicited from your mouth into his, leaving his kiss softening in satisfaction. It was filled with need, hunger, and years of built up frustration. He handled you so softly, as if you would break, tears still streaming down your cheeks. A sob wracked your chest again, causing him to pull away.

"How in the world could you think I could never love you?" He questioned, bringing you into a hug. You continued to clutch his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. He gingerly set you down to sit in front of him, while he kneeled between your legs. His hands were placed on your knees, looking up at you, as if you were a goddess bestowed upon him.

"I'm not them. I'm not the cheerleaders, or the dancers, or the athletes you date. Look at me, Ani," you grabbed onto his hands, squeezing. His expression showed guilt, love, and anger. Anger at himself, for ever making you feel like this. For ever making you feel like you were the second option, and that he could never adore you. Because for years, he has.

"Oh, honey, you are so much more than them," he brought a hand up to cup your cheek. "I have loved you for so long, I can't believe you ever felt this way," he mumbled, kissing your knees after he uttered the sentiment. "You are everything to me."

He wiped the tears off of your cheeks with his hand, raising himself on his knees slightly. "I'm so sorry I ever made you feel that way, because you are my first and forever love."

"You mean it?" You mocked him, your normal attitude coming back to life. He grinned like a cheshire cat, watching you beam back in the midst of tears.

"Every goddamn word," he mocked back, grabbing your hands and placing kisses on them, "you could never compare to any other girl. You are worth so much more to me, I promise. You are my sun and my moon, my stars, I revolve around you. I love you, so much," he praised you, placing one of your hands on his cheek.

You began to cry again, tears of happiness this time, knowing it was okay.

"No, no, don't cry baby, please," he kneeled up, know facing you directly. "You're too pretty to cry."

You shook your head in disbelief, looking down at your lap.

He kisses your forehead, softly, bringing you close to him. "I'm so sorry," he profusely apologized. He left kisses down the side of your face, peppering you, before meeting your lips again, where you wrapped your arms around his neck as he hunched over. He never once disconnected your kiss as he hooked his hands under your thighs, pushing you back on the bed and under him. The kiss grew more needy, more desperate, as his hands rubbed your outer thighs, guiding them to wrap around his waist. As you did so, you pulled him down closer to you, your two bodies moving in sync with love, care, and adoration.

You tugged on his hair, making him grunt softly into your mouth, making you giggle slightly. "What was that, hm?" You mumbled into the kiss. You honestly were lost with what you were doing, your first kiss taking place on the playground at recess, and had never gone as far as to continue kissing someone.

"God— you, Y/N," he pulled away, looking at you from above, the locks of hair falling from his head, caressing his jaw. He scanned your face for any hesitance, any doubts, and in finding none, he leaned back down, caressing your arms in the process.

"Wait, Ani," you stopped him before his lips could meet yours, bringing one hand to trace along his jaw. "I've never done anything like this before," you mumbled, partially out of embarrassment and nervousness. He had then begun to pull away fully, out of respect for you, before you trapped his hips in with your calves, pulling him back down.

"We don't have to do anything, I promise, I don't expect anything from you, nothing— I swear," he promised, grinning at you from above. "I want you to feel as comfortable as possible," he told you, realization hitting him that you most likely had never done anything beyond kissing, and he didn't want to pressure you into anything you wouldn't want.

"No, that's not what I mean. Ani, I want to," you told him, the heat growing between your bodies, his sweatpants and your shorts being a soft barrier between what could occur.

"You want to?" He questioned, anticipation almost hurting him in his core. You were willing to give him one of the most treasured, most vulnerable parts of yourself, to him, and he couldn't quite fathom that.

"Yes. Anakin, I've always wanted to do this with you, since I knew I fell in love," you leaned up to kiss his cheek, then you kissed the shell of his ear, whispering, "let me be yours."

With that, he bent down to kiss you again, gentle hands and tender touches. "I'll be careful, and tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?"

You nodded, bringing him back down to you, yet again, as the kiss grew heated. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, allowing you to open your mouth, letting his own wrap around yours and explore your mouth. The feeling itself was sensational, and you wished you had confessed sooner. Your hips bucked up to meet his, knowing only clothing separated you two. You reached down to tug on his shirt, enticing him.

He sat up, ripping his shirt off quickly, and you took the time to admire him. While you had seen it many times throughout the years, you couldn't get enough, knowing this was the man who loved you, who adored you, who pledged himself to you. Your hand traced along his abdomen, and up his chest, with slow circles and movements.

He looked down to you and your hoodie for permission, to which you grew embarrassed and shy. He stopped, again, tracing his hand along your hip, "What's wrong?"

"I'm not wearing a bra, Ani," you muttered with embarrassment, and he looked at you inquisitively at the fact. "Honey, do you know—"

You interrupted him, mid laugh, "Yes, I know, I'm just nervous. My body, and uh—"

You were cut off, almost immediately, with a tut from him. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I promise," he told you, looking at you as if you'd break with a single touch or glance.

You nodded, beginning to lift your shirt up yourself, before he stopped you, kissing you and setting your wrists down. "Let me show you how much I love you," he told you, so sincerely, that you felt your body heat up and tense.

His fingers found the bottom of the garment, beginning to lift it over your head, as you lifted your arms up for him to slip it off of you.

He could have practically cum at the sight.

He was met with your soft skin, only for him to see, and his sweatpants tightened ever so slightly. Your breasts splayed out, tummy revealed, and it was all for him. Would forever only be for Anakin.

He kissed you again as you held him, trailing pecks down your cheek, and to your neck, where he suckled the skin and nibbled. You whimpered quietly, never having even thinking you could let out anything from kisses.

"You're so, so beautiful. Sculpted by the gods themselves, I swear. If I could worship a statue of you at a temple, I could," he whispered into your collarbone, moving his pecks downward. You became inherently flustered at his words, a garbled mess, until his breath was fanning in between your sternum. His palms found your ribs, inching upward to your breasts, thumb teasing over your nipple. The contact jolted you, overly sensitive and becoming needy for him to make love to you.

"So divine, I swear," he spoke over your nipple, before his mouth latched onto it, suckling like it would be the last thing he ever tasted. Yet, at the same time, it was so pure. Merciful whimpers left your garbled throat, hands tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck.

He switched over to the other breast, the other one being caressed with his saliva coating it, hardening at the contact. He let his teeth drag along the peak, almost teasingly, before kissing the bud and moving downwards.

He moved down to your tummy, kissing all over. His tongue licked a stripe from your sternum to your navel, then kissing the skin above your shorts. "No matter how insecure you are, your tummy is perfect," he mumbled into the skin, teeth gently grazing the skin as he sweet talked into your skin, lust filling his eyes as he made eye contact with you from above him.

"Anakin, I need you," you muttered, not able to hold the eye contact as he sat between your legs, where you needed him most. He smirked, nodding as he did so, "I know, baby, just wanna take my sweet time with you," he spoke, so close to your core, where your desire lingered for him. He could practically taste it as well, bending down lower, his teeth biting on the waistband of the fabric, slowly pulling it down. His other hand met the other hip, assisting in his teasingly slow antics. He shimmied the shorts off, looking back to where you laid underneath him. He adored you, to say the least, and the way you're looking at him as him twitching in his pants. Desire and need are painted all over your expression, as he finally looked down to your panties.

He noticed the damp spot on the gray cotton, his mind going crazy. He did this to you. God, he loved it.

He kissed the wet spot, earning a small noise that strangled it's way out your mouth. Those damn noises to him, would be the death of Anakin himself. He then looked up, "Is this okay?" He questioned, wanting to make sure you were alright more than anything.

"Yes, please, Ani," you begged, watching him then tauntingly pull the fabric down your hips. Before looking, he begins to kiss the inside of your thighs, tongue dragging along the plush of the skin. The freckles and moles and scars, everything, he was taking in as he tasted you. It was perfect to him. You are perfect. He wanted to make sure you knew that as well, his attention switching to the other leg, repeating the same tantalizing licks and nips and kisses, sucking gently as he got closer to your center, leaving light hickeys and eliciting noises from you.

He then made eye contact with where you needed him most, a small sigh of his breath leaving a tingling sensation for you. "All of this, for me? You're too good to me," he spoke, before taking his first lick, a stripe from your entrance to your clit, groaning at the taste of you. "Y'taste so heavenly, honey, please," he begged for nothing, knowing he already had you as putty in his hands. You fell limp as he pressed a damp kiss to your clit, using one hand to pull back your folds for him. You were glistening with desire, leaking onto your sheets. He was disappointed he couldn't take the chance to lick it up off of the sheets, your hole twitching and practically clenching at this point.

He began his attacks on you, slow and steady, trying not to overwhelm you. Moans began to fill the room, letting him know he was doing a good job, only using his tongue at this point. "S'good," you spoke out, and he hummed in response, smiling in his head. All he wants is to make you feel good. This is an apology, devotion, and need all in one.

The vibrations sent shivers up your spine, fingers clutching the sheets beside you. His other hand was keeping your legs apart, the incessant twitching making him rut into the end of the bed. This wasn't about him though, this was about you.

His tongue prodded your entrance, scooping up whatever was leaking out, and he swallowed it graciously. "You're doing so well, my love," he praised. You hummed in response, not being able to form coherent words, even though he was the one with his mouth occupied. The hand spreading your folds twisted, allowing for his thumb to start slow, gentle circles around your clit.

"Is this good? Do you feel good, darling?" He asked, looking up to you as you nodded feverishly, in a haze of love and lust all at once. Your brain was clouded with the pleasure of Anakin between your legs, lapping you up like you were his final meal on death row. His thumb circling your nub, and his tongue swirling around your walls, gummy and slick with his saliva and your desire. He loved every second of it, your squirming and your hips rolling on his mouth, suffocating him in the best way possible.

His thumb began to speed up, and your hands found their way to his hair, pulling him closer and gripping on for dear life. And he hasn't even inserted fingers yet.

The heat between your legs grew stronger, as minutes passed of torturous circles and slow licks and prods, before you begged for him more. "Fingers, something, Ani," you managed to make out some words, jello and oozing into his palms and mouth. He chuckled at your eagerness, now using his hand he was using to hold your legs apart to wrap your legs behind his back, heels digging into the muscular blades of his shoulders. A single digit slowly entered you, curling inside, arching your back off of the sheets. His tongue moved up to your clit, suctioning the bud, and gently nibbling as his finger began a new pace. It was steady, almost leisurely, as he inserted a second finger, scissoring at your entrance. You were so, so tight, and it was heavenly to him. "Ani, faster, please," you commanded, and he damn well listened like an obedient dog, picking up the pace and curling inside of you each time, his thick fingers searching for the spot that would make you see stars. One your own fingers could hardly reach.

As he sped up and became more passionate with it, your legs trembled from overwhelming excitement and anticipation. You felt the knot beginning to form, one you had only reached on your own, while always thinking of this. Your moans became more strangled and raspy, his mouth never leaving his assault on your clit, and his fingers squelching from your wetness between your legs. The smell, the taste, everything was undeniably delicious to him. This was his Y/N, the one he pined after for so long, the girl of his dreams.

Your pussy began to ache, an overwhelming sense of your release approaching. With whatever you could make out, you uttered in a strangled mess, "C-cum, Ani, 'M gonna."

He began to get more aggressive with his suckles, and his eyes looked up to your expression as your breasts shook with every breath you took, head lolled back from the craving you had- no, the need you had for him. He felt your walls clench around him as your release was coming, his eyes never leaving you. "Good girl, I wanna see that pretty face look at me while you cum," he quickly reattached his mouth to you, the words themselves making your orgasm hit you like a trainwreck. Your eyes never left his, though they rolled into the back of your head momentarily. He felt the flutter, and the clenching of your legs around his head as you finished, his mouth licking up the last of you as he finally pulled away. "You did so well, baby. We can stop here if you want," he assured you, licking his fingers clean as he leaned up to cup your face and kiss your neck.

"I want to feel you inside of me," your lips were flush and swollen from the kissing and biting you had done, and your checks were splotched with redness as he nodded. "Fuck, you're so perfect," he guaranteed your utmost comfortability and contentment. "If you're sure."

He began to pull down his boxers and sweats in a swift motion with one hand, the other propping him up so he could kiss your cheeks sweetly and with care. "You're doing amazing."

You grinned and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips eagerly. Sweat beaded your foreheads, but the mess created never stopped either of you from continuing. He kissed your forehead, then both of your cheeks, before dragging his lips down to the corner of your mouth. He pulled away momentarily, hands reaching down to stretch you with his fingers. You glanced down to below his navel, and holy shit, was he big.

"It'll fit?" You questioned, your naïveté getting the best of you in the moment.

He chuckled, grinning and looking down at you waiting for him. He took a mental picture, analyzing every possible detail of your bare skin, and the way you looked right now. He was infatuated with you before, but this sight under him, left precum leaking from his tip. His fantasies could have never compared to this sight of him between your legs. "Yes, it will. It'll hurt at first, okay? And tell me to slow down or stop at any point, promise?"

You nodded your head eagerly, "I promise," so grateful for the way he was praising and taking care of your needs over his.

He kissed you again, dragging his tip along your folds. The red and swollen cock in front of you had you nearly drooling, but you decided to save that for another point in time.

"Are you ready?" He asked tenderly, kissing along your neck, tapping your clit with the head of his cock. "Yes, please," you chanted over and over again, like a prayer on your lips.

He let out a quiet hum, slowly pressing his tip into your folds. It slowly slipped past your entrance, earning a hiss from between your teeth.

"Are you okay?" Anakin immediately asked, though not pulling out, so he could look you in the eye, his gaze wavering slightly.

"Mhm, just hurts," you felt tears prick the corner of your eyes, and Anakin knows you've never been someone with a high pain tolerance. "Shh, it's okay, I've got you," he comforted you, pressing a small kiss to your lips, waiting for you to nod to continue. It didn't matter that even your entrance was gripping him like a fucking vice, he wanted you to feel as safe and pleasured as possible.

You made eye contact with him, nodding slowly, as he pushed in a little more, your hands finding his biceps, caged around your head, nails digging into his skin and leaving welts. It hurts, but you expected it. And there was nobody else in all the universe you would rather give your virginity to, just Anakin himself.

"You're doing such a great job, taking me so well," he smiled, hoping his voice would bring you a sense of oasis in the middle of his cock piercing through your insides. "Think you can take a little more?"

You nodded, as one hand reached down to press on your thigh, as he felt your pussy clench him so tightly, knowing you were his. Made for him. "Relax, it'll help it hurt less baby, I promise," he told you, rubbing sweet circles on your leg.

He felt your body loosen up, and he was able to bottom out into you, and his tip kissed your walls, a whimper of pain and pleasure entering his mouth from the kiss he gave you. "Good girl," he whispered into your mouth, making sure he was to never break eye contact in this moment. It was so pure, so sinful, and such a precious moment. He was lingering inside of you, movements stilled, no matter how badly he wanted to pound into you until you were crying into the sheets. You bucked your hips up, enticing him to move, and he got the memo.

It wasn't full throttled thrusts, but slow and lazy pumps in and out of you, waiting for the pain to subside. He felt so amazing inside of you, with your warmth and wetness connecting you both. The closest he could ever get to you, and he never thought he would be here. He was savoring every clench, every thrust, and every moment like it would be his last. Because it was you, and he loved you so dearly, he wanted this to be perfect for you.

Your back arched, your pussy twitched around him, all the while he was still slowly going in and out. It was celestial, the way you moaned and let out slurred words of his name, eyes half lidded and already looking fucked out, a devious and wanton expression he'd commit to memory. "Ani," you made out, grabbing the hand on your leg and placing it on your core. He understood, starting to rub spirals under the red and swollen hood of your clit, picking up his pace. Then, the pain has completely subsided, turning into seraphic pleasure, his eyebrows creating a wrinkle as they furrowed. His own pants and grunts left his lips, chest heaving from the bliss he was subdued in. He was immersed in you completely, mentally and physically. You looked so angelic, even godly, as your bodies connected in the most unholy way possible.

He had waited too long for this.

Your warm and inviting, virgin pussy, saved all for him. And now you were underneath him, his cock filling every inch of you, and each time he bottomed out his tip would meet your cervix, but not hard enough to hurt you. He treasured you, wanting the moment to last as long as possible.

"Faster, Ani, I'm okay," you rested your hand on his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes, as he tried so hard to contain himself so you could feel loved for every second of it. He got off on you feeling so cherished under him, and you had never felt more adoration than in the present.

He listened though, picking him his pace, hips snapping so scrumptiously against you. You could hardly moan anymore, and you broke the eye contact, head rolling back and hitting your pillows from the amount of satisfaction you gained. He took the opportunity to look down at where your bodies met, watching his length slide in and out of you, coated in the sticky sweetness of your serene need for him. His eyes glanced over your body, watching as your tits bounced with every jolt of his body, and he almost creamed at the very sight. He was going to wait though, until you came, to ever think of cumming.

"S'well, baby, you feel so good wrapped around me. You're so beautiful, God. I could do this for hours," he praised you, feeling your pussy clench around him at the simple, yet overwhelming words. The way the plush of your thighs jiggled with every little movement, and the way your tummy followed with. He was encompassed in serenity for every second of it.

"M'gonna cum," you mustered out, warning him of your second release, building quicker than the prior one. "Go ahead, my love, whenever you feel like it," he said between pants and grunts, thumb still circling around your clit as he felt you get all the more tighter.

He sped up his pace, shifting his body to the right, the angle directly hitting that spongey spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your hands began to dig into his shoulders, the knot tightening. He could tell, watching as your thighs clenched and you let out the most wanton cry of his name, cumming around his cock.

The feeling and satisfaction of you finishing left him close to his own release, pulling your head down to look at him. "'S it okay if- fuck- I cum?"

"Cum in me, Ani, fill me up," you assured him, still whimpering from overstimulation and groaning at the feeling of him fucking your cum back into you.

His breaths were shakier, turning into soft whimpers and groans as you felt his thrusts grow messy, and soon still, feeling a gush of warmth inside of you, filling you to the brim. He stayed there for a moment, sighing as his cock softened, not wanting to pull out and disconnect from you in the most intimate way possible. He knew he had to though, as he pulled out slowly, leaving you feeling empty and lost.

You let out a breath of air, leaning up to kiss him. He happily obliged, rubbing sweet patterns along your hips, tracing the dips and curves with his index finger, soothing you after your release.

He leaned up quickly, making you feel cold, empty, and lost. Was he already leaving?

But no, he came back with a warm washcloth, leaning between your legs again. He came face to face with your cum and his load leaking out of you, beginning to drag wet and sloppy kisses on your knees as he ever so gently wiped up what was leaking out of you, and the mess and sweat off of your thighs. The residue piled along the fabric, which he then wiped his soft cock with, running back to your bathroom to throw it in the hamper. He crawled back into bed with you as you turned over on your side, the room smelling of sex and love.

"I'm so proud of you, you did so well," he told you, wrapping an arm around you and bringing you close to him, so you could lay your head on his chest. His palm rubbed along the small of your back, tracing up your spine.

"Thank you, I don't think I could have asked for someone better to do it with," you smiled, an after sex glow making you all the more beautiful to him.

"Does this mean you're my boyfriend now?" You asked, and a dumbfounded expression was plastered on Anakin's face, causing you to worry momentarily.

"I would assume so, but only if you'll have me," he spoke into your hair, bare and naked bodies intertwined under the cold sheets. "Of course I'll have you," you comforted him, hands tracing the curve of his biceps. "You're my forever, Anakin."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

[janeyseymour]

I Hate You, I Love You- part 3

Summary: you spend the early hours of Christmas Eve preparing dinner with your family and Melissa.

WC: ~2.8k

“Come in, come in!” your mother greets you. She pulls you in for a tight hug.

“You saw me at the beginning of this month, Mom,” you roll your eyes.

Then she moves onto Melissa, who has rolled both of your suitcases in. You see the redhead stiffen just slightly before relaxing and patting your mom’s back.

“You must be Melissa!”

Where you expect your tough coworker to reply with sass, she smiles warmly- that smile that she reserves for Barbara and, on the rare occasion, Janine. “It’s so great to finally meet you, Nora.” Then she turns to your aunt. “You must be Aunt Jo.”

Jo’s face brightens considerably, and you didn’t think that was possible. You can practically feel the excitement radiating off of her.

Then your father is standing from his chair and outstretching a hand. “Al,” is all he says, but the smile on his face tells you that he’s just as excited as the other two. He’s just better at concealing it.

“Melissa,” your ‘girlfriend’ shakes your father’s hand firmly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” At least that isn’t a lie- the two of you had gone over family history on the car ride over.

“Wish I could say the same about you,” your dad huffs as he looks to you. “Our girl didn’t even tell us you existed until a few weeks ago when she came over for dinner.”

“It just never came up!” you protest as you interlace your fingers with the redhead again. “Come on, we don’t have time to interrogate my girlfriend. We have to put our stuff away upstairs.”

The three adults relent, but your mother tells you, “Be quick! We have a lot of things to make!”

You go to grab your bag from next to Melissa, but her hand is on your suitcase handle before you can stop her. “I got it, hun.” She winks at you before gesturing for you to lead the way.

“Thanks, babe,” you reply, and you hope it sounds convincing. “Come on, my room is the attic, so…”

The redhead follows you up the steps, lugging your bags behind her. As soon as the door is closed behind the two of you, you scowl.

“Way to lay it on thick,” you hiss.

“I’m trying to be convincing! Do you want me to blow it for you before we even get through Christmas Eve?”

You huff. “No.”

“Then let me do my thing. You told me how you act in a relationship, and I took acting classes when I was younger. I can do this if you can.”

“Fine. I sleep on the left side of the bed.”

“Of course you do,” the redhead laughs. “I sleep on the right. It’s almost like we were made for this.”

“Shut up.”

“Just remember you love me,” Melissa teases you as she sets your things on your side of the room.

“I absolutely do not,” you roll your eyes. “C’mon. We have to go downstairs before my mom comes up here and yells at us for not coming to help her. And I need a glass of wine.”

“It’s eleven in the morning,” your colleague says, and there’s only a hint of judgement in her voice.

“And when you see the amount of work she’s going to give us, on top of having to pretend I love you, I’m going to need all the booze I can get.”

Melissa takes your hand gently in her own before leading you down the steps. You take a seat at the counter, and the redhead immediately makes her way over to the cabinets. She gives you a questioning look, and you point to the one that has the wine glasses in it. She grabs two before walking over to the refrigerator and pouring out a glass of your favorite wine and one for herself- one that your parents always keep for you when you’re here. She saunters over to you with a smile and offers the poured glass to you. You take it from her with a kiss to the cheek, and then she’s standing behind you with an arm draped around your shoulder.

“So, Y/N told me it’s always a cooking extravaganza, and I hate to brag, but I’m a great cook,” Melissa chuckles as she takes a small sip from her own glass.

Your mother immediately gives the two of you direction in terms of what you’re in charge of, and the redhead is all grins. “That sounds easy enough.”

“Mom, that’s way more than you usually give me.”

“Well, there’s two of you now,” your mother shrugs.

You roll your eyes. “This is a ridiculous amount of-”

“I can do it, babe,” Melissa cuts in. “You know how I usually cook anyway, and this ain’t nothin. Just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?”

You look to her, and damn is she a good actress. For as rough and as tough as she is, she can really be warm- or at least fake warmth.

“I can help,” you sigh.

Making portions of the meal starts out incredibly stilted and awkward, but as time goes on and the alcohol is flowing through your blood, you actually find yourself enjoying being in Melissa’s presence. She’s a great cook. She’s a great teacher when there are a few things that you’re a little confused about in terms of preparing the food.

As you’re mashing the potatoes, her arms find their way around your waist, and her chin rests gently on your shoulder. She kisses your cheek softly, and you can’t help the blush that tints your cheeks. It’s all for appearances, at least in front of your parents and aunt- that’s what you tell yourself. You have no idea that this is how Melissa has wanted to be with you for a while now.

Unbeknownst to you, Aunt Jo takes your picture, the two of you looking incredibly in love despite the fact that you hate the redhead with you. It almost makes you hate her more now that you know she isn’t the hard ass she always plays- she can be incredibly soft and warm. 

When you’ve finished mashing the potatoes, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom- you need a bit of space. Having the redhead pressed up against you and kissing your cheek and the nape of your neck has you more bothered than you had expecting. You splash a few droplets of water on your face. 

Melissa moves onto begin making the last batch of cookies needed for tonight’s meal. But when she goes to reach for the nutmeg, she can’t find any. She grabs her purse and lets your father know she’s heading to the store, asking if they need anything else while she’s out. Your father shakes his head no.

“Hun?” your colleague calls up the steps. “I’m heading to the store for a few last minute items. Are you coming with me, or am I going by myself?”

You sigh. You like this warm side of Melissa, but you know as soon as the two of you are out of the house, it won’t be like that anymore. “I’ll stay here and help Mom.”

“Sounds good,” she yells back. “I’ll be back soon. I love you!”

You return the sentiment, but only because you know Aunt Jo had come upstairs to change from her sweatshirt to a tee. And then Melissa is off.

When you return back down the steps, Melissa has taken your car- you hope she doesn’t crash it just to spite you. Your father groans.

“What, Dad?”

“I’m an idiot. I told Melissa we didn’t need nothin’, but it turns out we need stuff to make the Christmas sangria.”

“I’ll text her.” 

You do, and she just gives the message a thumbs up in return. You go back to your station in the kitchen and continue on preparing. Unfortunately for you, Melissa calls as you’re in the middle of glazing the ham, and you can’t answer.

“Would you mind getting that, Aunt Jo?”

Your aunt does, but her brows furrow as she looks at the contact name that pops up. It only reads ‘Schemmenti’.

“It’s your girlfriend.” She answers the phone and places the cell between your cheek and shoulder. You’re able to hold it there. "Although I’m confused why you only have her in your phone with just her last name… no silly nickname, no heart? There isn’t even a picture of the two of you together?”

“Just haven’t had time,” you sigh. Damn. You should’ve thought about that. “I’m in her phone as Y/N, and that’s it.” You hope your fake girlfriend can hear the bite in your voice to tell her that you may have just been caught.

“Babe, you haven’t changed my name in your phone yet?” Melissa chuckles out. “I’m wounded.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll change it when we get off the phone. What’s up; what do you need?”

“There’s a shit ton of cranberries,” the redhead tells you. “Is there a particular brand you and your family prefer?”

You walk her through the preferred brands of everything on the list your dad gave you, and then she’s checking out.

She’s very aware that your entire family is still in the room with you, and if they can hear her, she wants to stay convincing. “Okay, thank you for your help hun. I’ll be back home in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good,” you mutter. “Don’t crash my car.”

“I wouldn’t,” the redhead chuckles, although she knows you’re being quite serious. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Bye,” you sigh, and then you let your aunt take the phone back. She’s frowning at you though. “What?”

“No ‘I love you’?”

You look to your aunt, somewhat annoyed. “She’s literally five minutes away, and we said it when she left earlier.”

Jo just gives you a look before returning back to her own place in the kitchen.

Melissa enters about ten minutes later, and she comes in with a few bags in her hands. “Hey babe.”

“Thank you for going out,” you kiss her cheek. “You’re the best.”

Melissa just smirks. “I know.” She turns your head gently and plants a short, sweet kiss on your lips. “Make the cookies with me?”

You’re in a daze for a second. Your colleague is a… really good kisser. 

“Honey?” she prompts.

Your cheeks tint red. “Uh, yeah. I’m gonna grab another glass of wine. You want one?”

“I would love that,” Melissa smiles.

You grab her empty glass of wine and fill it with a blush. When you make your way over, you have to resist the urge to kiss her again. “Here you go, Lis.”

Your ‘girlfriend’ lifts a brow at the spur of the moment nickname, but she smiles at you regardless. “Lis,” she mumbles as she pulls you in so close you can feel her breath on your neck.

You pick up your phone with a smile and pull up her contact. Her name in your phone goes from ‘Schemmenti’ to ‘Lis’, adorned with a red heart.

Her hand goes to her back pocket with a smile before pulling out her own phone and changing your contact name from just your last name, to a nickname for your first. You just give her a smile before turning your attention to the cookies that need baking.

Before you know it, your parents’ house smells delicious, and you’re just a little tipsy. Your cheeks have a glow that just won’t quit, and Melissa’s hands are all over you. She makes sure to throw in a few ‘I love you’s here and there, along with quite a few kisses dotted along your temple and hairline, cheek, lips, and she dares to press on to the nape of your neck as you roll out the dough for the sugar cookies. You can’t help the delightfully tipsy giggle that you let out.

The cookies end up in the oven, the two of you begin to toss in the ingredients for your family’s sangria, and then you’re asking Aunt Jo for a time check.

She taps your phone that’s sitting out on the counter, and she purses her lips.

“Is it getting too late?” you ask, a pout on your face.

She shakes her head. “It’s only about three, and you know the family doesn’t start trickling their way in until five, but where’s the cute picture of the two of you as your lock screen?”

Melissa just chuckles that easy laugh that you find yourself beginning to enjoy more and more. It’s the laugh that you only hear her elicit when she’s in the presence of Barbara Howard. “Because our coworkers don’t know,” she reminds Jo.

“Well, are you around them right now?” Aunt Jo challenges. Then her eyes light up. “I took an adorable photo of the two of you while you were making the potatoes. Give me a second.”

About a minute later, an image appears on your phone, and at one glance, you can see how anybody would genuinely think that the two of you are in love. It’s… it’s a really sweet picture. Melissa’s arms are around you, and while your hands are working on the food in front of you, the look in your eyes is one of pure happiness- at least that’s what it looks like. And the way that your coworker is looking at you? You haven’t seen that look from somebody in a long time.

With a roll of your eyes, you change your background to that picture, as does your grade partner.

“That’s better, huh?” Melissa pecks your lips again.

You give her a smirk. “Sure, hun. C’mon. We should go upstairs to start getting ready for dinner.”

“I’ll be up in a minute,” she promises. “You want another glass of wine?”

“Maybe some sangria,” you shrug as you . “Have to make sure it tastes good.”

She gives you a nod, and her eyes linger on your body as you head out of the kitchen and up the steps to your room.

Melissa enters a few minutes later as you’re in the midst of changing. She sets your drink on your nightstand before looking to you.

Immediately, you blush. You’re standing there without pants on. “Jesus, Melissa. Don’t you knock?”

She shrugs, and her eyes rake up and down your body.

“Oh, quit it,” you roll your eyes. “We aren’t in front of them anymore, so you don’t have to keep pretending you’re in love with me. I do have to say though, you’re quite the actress. You’re good at this.”

“Wait ’til you see what else I’m good at.” She winks at you before making her way over to her own suitcase.

“I still hate you.”

“I know,” is all the redhead sighs. She won’t say she hates you back, because she doesn’t. She never has.

“I can’t wait for this weekend to be over,” you tell her outwardly as you pull your slacks on.

Internally though, there’s something about this weekend that feels easy; it feels almost natural. Melissa has this warm, soft side to her that you don’t hate. You actually quite like it. You can almost see why Barbara has taken quite a shining to- no. Melissa Schemmenti is still the same stuck-up bitch you work with, and she’s doing this for the money.

You spend a bit of time on your makeup before turning to her. She’s sitting on the bed scrolling through her phone, glasses on the tip of her nose. When you clear your throat she looks up to you, and her jaw opens just slightly.

“What?”

She’s at a loss for words. It takes a few seconds for her mind to catch up to her body. “You look nice. Clean up well.”

“Save it for when we’re downstairs,” you sneer out. You gesture for her to go in front of you, and when she does, you can’t help but notice the way this sweater that she’s chosen hugs her in all the right places, and her pants only make her curves stand out more.

Before the two of you make your way down the steps fully, she laces your fingers together with ease. You can’t deny the way that her hand fits into your own almost perfectly. She smiles at you, one of those real, genuine smiles that almost has you melting.

“You ready?”

“Are you?”

“Of course I am,” Melissa smirks at you, and then she licks her lips subconsciously as she gets a good look at your face.

“Let’s get this over with.”

TAGS (and lmk if you wanna be added): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

[egophiliac]

Hi!!! I just wanted to say that I really love the way you draw/write Vil in your little comics! I think you do a great job at capturing the more fun side of him in addition to the “pretentious, wine mom” look that’s often portrayed. It just makes the character feel more real.

Also, I was wondering if there was any way you could post that other version of Vil’s unique magic poster to the drive? The one with the full body shot? That’s one of my favorite pieces! (If not it’s totally chill - just figured I’d ask)

Thanks and have a great day!!!

thank you! 💜 and yeah, sure! I popped it in there as "Fairest One of All (Alternate)", and I apologize in advance for your black ink. (secretly though I also love how that one came out, so thank you for the validation. :') sometimes I do good!)

confession: when Twst was still in pre-release, I was not expecting to like any of the pom trio (the website descriptions are kinda terrible for everyone, and especially them). fortunately I was immediately proven wrong when it turned out that they're less ~mysterious aloof beauties~, and more the very weirdly specific dynamic of "Team Rocket except James got all the camp (and also Meowth is their weird little feral child they're trying to pull a pygmalion on against his will)".

(it's a good dynamic)

[aibloomie]

THINGS THEY DO WHEN THEY LOVE YOU

✧ featuring — venti, diluc, kaeya, albedo, childe, zhongli, xiao, kazuha, thoma, itto, and gorou x gn!reader

I desperately wanted to add sumeru characters to this but </3 I simply do not know enough about them so maybe in the future. this was my first time writing for some characters so I hope they aren't too occ. it's 1 am i will now be going to sleep 😭 or trying

venti lulls you to sleep with his melodious words every chance he gets. he is not fond of routines, but this act is one that he wishes to never avoid. he smiles when he catches wind of your drowsy self, and takes it as his cue to guide you to bed. his voice is quiet so as to not alarm you, so quiet that only you would be able to hear it even if the room were rowdy and full of people. it is a gesture reserved only for you, as his voice is usually loud when he is with other people. when you are away and unable to see him, memories of his honey dripping tunes are your exit ticket into a sweet and peaceful slumber with visions of your one and only lover.

diluc does not hide his growing and everlasting attachment to you. he has a tendency to discard items that he no longer needs or uses, but he is unable to fall into that habit when it comes to you. instead, every gift you give him is displayed on his shelves, or some place in his residence that is visible. he cleans the shelves and gifts every day so that his valuable possessions are not tainted with dust. he even places some of them in the bar (behind glass or in a place none of his customers would dare to touch) and his heart flutters every time he glances at the gifts. his regular customers are used to him zoning out with a sweet smile on his face whenever he does so. you are his soft spot, and he makes it very known to you and the entire town without even meaning to be so obvious about it. he would gladly keep and store everything you give him  </3

kaeya finds himself reaching out to you whenever you turn your back on him. before you, he was in a pit of loneliness and you pulled him out of it. because of that, his main comfort is spending quality time with you. so whenever you try rolling out of bed you are met with kaeya's longing gaze, and an arm that extends in an effort to pull you back in—yet he never actually touches you unless you willingly come back to him. and when you do, his arms will wrap around you and he'll place gentles kisses down your neck, and he manages to whisper against your skin, "can you stay for a while longer, love?"

albedo would drop all his work and cast aside his progress on any research for you. the minute you express you crave his touch or attention, he will immediately grant it to you, all of his thoughts would turn to you and you alone. he once believed that relationships were too demanding, but is constantly proved wrong when he's with you because he's filled with so much happiness when offered the chance to give you his love and attend to your every need. 

childe tells his entire family about you through letters before they even meet you in person. so the first time you come to his house, his siblings are all over you and they already know your name. childe goes beet red and bashfully pulls his siblings off of you before introducing all of them. and his mom !! she made an entire grand meal for you with all your favorite food (that childe mentioned to her a long time ago) because her son is head over heels for you and she wants to treat you right.

zhongli tries his best to spoil you, despite not being the most financially responsible. he wants you to have the best there is, and wants you to get a taste of the finest products in liyue. he likes setting up beautiful dates, in which your favorite flowers decorate the table. he has your favorite floral scent as an essence so all of your senses are satisfied. your favorite cuisine will always be set on the table, along with wine (or a non-alcoholic drink if you prefer) so the two of you can talk the moonlit night away.

xiao cannot help but indulge himself when it comes to his curiosities with you. a relationship with him takes patience, he needs time to sort his feelings out and be okay with the urges he has when it comes to you. it'll take him a while to be comfortable with rubbing his thumb against your hand when his fingers are interlaced with yours. but through such actions, he is showing you that he treasures you. he gets flustered when he pulls you closer to him as the two of you kiss, because his body acts before his mind and he cannot fathom that he has the ability to desire such a thing. 

kazuha has notebooks after notebooks filled with poems and portions of writings about his longing for you. most are sweet and loving, describing you as if you were more fascinating and eye-catching than the unknowns of the ocean and space combined. he thinks of you as the calming sounds of leaves blowing through the air after a storm, one that puts his soul at home. he quite simply cannot drive you away from consuming his each and every thought, nor does he want to. he is a bit bashful when you find the poems, watching as your eyes oh so carefully read each word he has written about you. his cheeks are rosy and he is unable to stutter even a sentence out because those notebooks reflect all of his heartfelt feelings for you, some of which he is not brave enough to voice aloud.

thoma finds himself copying your mannerisms and phrases without even intending to. he's around you so often that he cannot help but start humming the same songs you always do, or even laugh the same way as you. he'll pick up on some of your catchphrases and become flustered at the realization. he carries a part of you no matter where he is <3

itto has no limit when it comes to verbally expressing his adoration for you. his sentences are filled with compliments for you, and they revolve around each and every aspect of you; your clothes, personality, appearance, humor, hobbies, interests, habits, and the list goes on and on. he doesn't allow any insecurities to run free in your mind, because he is constantly reminding you of how amazing you are. he enjoys competitions, but admits that you are the only person who could beat him at anything <3

gorou cannot contain his feelings around you, no matter how hard he tries to. you are his lover, yet he seems to have never left the crushing phase. his cheeks still get adorned with a lovely shade of red whenever you inch closer to him and kiss him. he is left speechless whenever you make eye contact with him, even more when you tease him about being so easy to fluster. he still tries to look his best for you, and gets a little embarrassed when you see his messy bed hair. and of course, his wagging tail whenever he so much as thinks about you is a dead give away on how infatuated he is with you.

[luviwon]

FAMILY DINNER FINGERING | k.sn

kinktober day 18! back to the masterlist here!

☆ fiancé!sunoo x reader

; it didn’t take long for everyone in your family to hear about your engagement, so they organised a dinner to celebrate the two of you. but truth be told, can sunoo really keep his hands away from you under the eyes of other people? or will he just not give a damn about it and let his fingers do their trick?

genre ; smut

taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minniesverse @rikinatorr

the cool evening breeze ruffled the hem of your dress as you and sunoo stood in front of your parents' house, warm light spilling out from the windows. the faint murmur of laughter and clinking dishes drifted through the air, reminding you of all the family gatherings you’d been to here—only this time, it was different. tonight, your family was celebrating your engagement, and it would be the first time they'd see sunoo as more than just your boyfriend.

sunoo shifted beside you, his fingers tightening around the gift bag he held—a neatly wrapped bottle of wine and a bouquet of your mom’s favorite flowers peeking out. his other hand was firmly gripping yours, thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, a small but steady comfort. “are you nervous?” he asked, his voice soft, but there was that familiar glint in his eyes, the one that always told you he was teasing, even if just a little.

“a little,” you admitted, giving a small smile. “you?”

he leaned closer, bringing his lips to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “only about how I’m going to keep my hands off you all night,” he murmured, the playful tone sending a shiver down your spine. “especially when you look so pretty like this.”

you shot him a look, your cheeks flushing instantly. “sunoo,” you warned, but it was hard to sound stern when he looked at you like that, his eyes twinkling with mischief, lips pulled into a smile that was too sweet to be innocent.

“what?” he laughed, tilting his head slightly, the strands of his perfectly styled hair catching the light. “it’s true. you’re gorgeous.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go to press the doorbell. “i’m just stating facts, baby.”

the door opened almost immediately, your mom beaming as she greeted you both. “there they are! oh, sunoo, thank you for bringing these,” she said, taking the gift bag from him with a grateful smile. “come in, come in. everyone’s been waiting to see you.”

sunoo stepped inside, his arm slipping around your waist as you followed your mom through the familiar hallways. you could feel the warmth of his hand against your lower back, the touch subtle, but there—like he needed to feel you close, even if it was just for a moment.

“you didn’t have to bring anything, really,” your mom said, leading you into the living room where the rest of your family was gathered.

“it’s nothing, really,” sunoo replied smoothly, flashing her that dazzling smile that you knew could melt hearts. “i just wanted to make a good impression, especially since this is the first time i’m here as, you know, the future son-in-law.” he glanced at you, his eyes softening, and your heart skipped a beat.

“well, you’re already part of the family, sunoo,” your dad said, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked over. “but we’re happy to make it official. come on, sit down, both of you. dinner’s almost ready.”

you found yourselves on the couch, sunoo’s arm still loosely draped around your waist. he leaned in, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “you’re doing great, by the way. not nervous at all, huh?”

you turned to him, ready to roll your eyes, but before you could say anything, he kissed you—just a light, quick peck that made your heart flutter. “stop that,” you whispered, but he only grinned, his fingers grazing the side of your thigh, hidden from view by the way you were sitting.

“why?” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “it’s cute when you blush.”

you barely had time to respond before your aunt called out from across the room, “so, how did he propose? was it romantic?”

“oh, it was beautiful,” you said, smiling as you remembered that day. but before you could continue, sunoo jumped in, his eyes twinkling.

“it was perfect,” he said, his voice a little louder now, drawing everyone’s attention. “i took her to the spot where we had our first date, and then i got down on one knee…” his fingers brushed higher up your leg, making you shift slightly. “and she said yes, obviously. i mean, who could resist me?”

the room erupted in laughter, and you had to bite back a smile. leave it to sunoo to make your proposal story sound both romantic and slightly cocky. still, you couldn’t deny how much you loved that about him.

throughout the night, sunoo’s touches grew bolder—his hand slipping under the tablecloth to rest on your knee, fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. it was subtle, careful, and yet each touch sent a spark through you, making it hard to focus on the conversation. he kept his expression perfectly innocent, smiling and chatting with your family as if nothing was happening, but you could see the way his eyes darkened whenever he glanced at you, his lips curving into that small, knowing smirk.

“are you okay, dear?” your grandma asked at one point, noticing how you’d been a little quieter than usual.

“oh, i’m fine,” you said, quickly forcing a smile. “just... enjoying the food.”

sunoo’s hand slipped higher up your thigh, squeezing gently, and you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping. “yeah, she’s just... savoring everything,” he added, his voice smooth, but you could see the mischief in his eyes.

you shot him a glare, but it only made his grin widen. “sunoo,” you hissed under your breath, but he just leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear again.

“what?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “you’re the one who said you weren’t nervous.”

(currently crying over this scene)

"i'm not" you claimed, straightening your posture with a confident smile, opposite to how you were actually feeling inside: overwhelmed by sunoo's hands constantly touching parts of your body, regardless of them being more or less vulgar. your fiance offered a smirk in response, one full of hidden dirty thoughts, almost like he had planned this the whole night, or maybe he did because he already knew how he wouldn't be able to resist you when you look so yummy in that dress.

"then you wouldn't mind if i did this, right?" were his last words before the tip of his fingers, long now lost under the material of your skirt, pressed against your panties softly, surprised when he noticed how wet they were already. he gasped quietly, trying hard to hold himself back from dragging you to the upstairs bathroom, pushing you over the sink and fucking you blind, like there was no tomorrow. so basically the usual, but this time in a house that did not belong to yous personally,

"sunoo," you whispered again, reading on his face that he doesn't plan on sitting back as long as he knows how drenched you are for him and how loud your cunt is screaming to be stretched out again by him, this time on the dinner table if possible. "shh", sunoo tried to stop you from talking, taking a look around to make sure no one is watching before pulling your panties higher, the tight material separating your folds and giving sunoo more access to your pussy.

your eyes became wider, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quite and legs crossing to stop him from touching you more, but sunoo effortlessly pushed your legs back apart, just as he was talking to your mother about wedding plans. "we are basically thinking of just having a small ceremony with close friends and family members, maybe even bringing everyone on an exotic island to celebrate the event. isn't that right, babe?" he turned to face you, an innocent smile on his face despite what his fingers were doing under your dress.

just as you were preparing to answer, sunoo pulled your panties higher again, then pressed his index against your clit, rubbing it slowly but precisely, giving you a hard time to maintain your cool. "y-yeah.." you whispered, your fiance still teasing you mercilessly, like he couldn't care less that everyone had their eyes on you now. he loved teasing you, playing with you, watching how hard you are trying to resist and hold your whining back. he knew how sensitive your clit was and how much wetter you got just by his fingers brushing agaisnt it.

he loved seeing how much you suffer to be quiet.

"are you okay, darling?" your aunt asked unexpectedly, leaving the plate with dessert in front of you then walking around the table to give everyone their fair share. you nodded, feeling too overwhelmed to say anything else aloud. sunoo chuckled, "she is just nervous about the wedding, don't worry. i will take care of her just right so she can forget about this whole stress"

"that's so sweet! y/n, you are so lucky to have sunoo by your side", your cousin exclaimed, rushing to eat the piece of cake that was waiting for her. right, so lucky to have sunoo calming you down, isn't that correct? by pulling your panties to the side after being done with teasing you, to be more exact, and slide his index slowly inside your soaked pussy, almost slipping inside you.

yet he just calmly started eating, holding the spoon in his free hand, almost oblivious to how much you were struggling.

"aren't you having any cake, dear?" your dad asked, savoring his in a rush as well, but your fiance answered in your place "i think she is already full" he claimed, sliding his middle finger inside you along with the previous one and pushing them deep inside you, curling the top of them to feel your cunt all over. you left your head down, biting your nails to mask how all over the place you were, your right hand wrapping around sunoo's arm trying to make him stop, but with that gesture he just started moving them inside you, in and out, slow enough so your wet sounds will not be noticeable,

even though he died to show everyone how much of a slut you were for him, being finger fucked under the table in front of your whole family.

his excitement grew higher when you clenched around him as he added a third finger to the equation. you couldn't hold it no longer and let a soft moan out, making everyone turn their heads towards you. sunoo noticed that too, and trying to hide his smirk, he stopped eating and held our face, his fingers moving faster inside you as he whispered "do you feel sick, babe", like he didn't just make it worse by your legs trembling at his rhythm, and you tried to nod. sunoo sighed, curling his fingers more inside you and repeatedly feeling your stomach, unable to control himself.

"let's get some air, then" he suggested, and with a final push, his fingers left your miserable cunt, not before cleaning themselves against your thigh, your cream painting your skin behind the dress.

[someonegoood]

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 2 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which life does not go on after Mason breaks your heart over and over again. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst, some smut (not really explicit) & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's part 2 ! Mason made his first goal for United and I'm emotional 💞 I'll do part 3 later

taglist: @dreamingofautopia @xjval @sunflower-tia @sad-fridge2323 @girlidekanymore @borbolwra3

Chelsea added to their story.

Your phone notified you, immediately dampening your mood. Everything was related to him.

It’s been two months since Mason shattered your heart after that nightmare of a night. The funny thing is that a part of you didn’t hate him, a part of you that still loved him existed. 

You had waited for him to text you to ask how you were and if you were free to hang out. And by the time you realized that he wasn’t going to, it was too late… too awkward for you to ask as well. So, both of you had resorted to ignorance and hostility. 

Life eventually went on, even though you had cut one of the most important people out of your life. And you’d see yourself by night, in your dreams. All these faces in the crowded city of London, and for some reason, you’d still try to find his. Mason was no longer yours.

Although he never was.

The first time Mason saw you after that night was a couple of months later, at a family lunch. The two families —Mounts and yours—had united in your family's garden for a little lunch to catch up on life. You had turned twenty and Lyon was old news. 

But Mason’s eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sit between his sister and your brother just before him. Sipping from a glass of wine that you most likely didn’t like, he glanced at you.

Your brother had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, his attention was on the pretty blonde talking to your nanny.

Mason had spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Although he just couldn’t. 

—Dear, will you serve me a little piece of that cake? —Your mother had her plate in her hand, waiting for Mason to react. It took him about five seconds to come out of his trance and then he served her what she had ordered.

He was too busy thinking about you.

—So, Mason… when is your next match? Your dad told me you were playing for England. —Your mom tried to lighten up the mood since you were not bickering with Mason as you were on other occasions. 

Mason smiled up while you looked at him and caught a glimpse of his beautiful Cheshire cat smile.

—I’m playing next week, on Sunday… —He looked around at everyone and proceeded. —You are all invited, of course. 

After an hour or two, everyone stood up, scattering around the decorated garden. Mason grabbed his phone from the table and headed to the kitchen in search of a beer.

In the background, the voices of the two families blurred together as you finished washing your plate. Both Mount sisters were busy playing card games with their mother and your brother was having a talk about politics, which you were not at all interested in. You had no one to talk to.

Suddenly, you feel someone behind you trying to open the refrigerator. That bloody refrigerator, which, being so old, could not be opened correctly. You turned around, not expecting to see Mason looking at you.

You headed to the refrigerator to open it, so Mason moved from where he was previously standing, leaning on the kitchen counter. You gave the refrigerator a little kick and it opened.

—Thanks… —He said grabbing the beer, the tension being palpable in the air. After a long pause, you continued:

—How are you? —you asked, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the British landscape.

—I’m alright.

Scoring some scarce points with Chelsea has become almost impossible under a year ago now, and you really felt sorry for him, knowing everything he and his team put in.

—How are you holding up? —you stood next to him, nudging his shoulder with yours, before looking down at the floor. You felt the look of pity that Mason was giving you, but you tried to ignore it.

—Thank you, really. 

—Mase...

He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn’t pressure him to answer your question, instead, you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the garden in silence.

—It will be alright, you know. —He hummed, knowing you were still hurt because of what he had said.

—I know. —You whispered back. —And don't worry much about scoring, in the least expected moments your shot is the one that serves the most.

He hated how much you believed him because at that moment he felt like the six-year-old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself, who thought everything was possible. 

Mason looked down at you, the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, and threw his head back in a laugh. 

—I don't think I’m ever getting rid of you.

Now it was your turn to laugh. After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place. He did a face.

—I know, I know. —You said with a sad look on your face.

—You know I’m too old for you, right? —Mason whispered as he leaned his forehead on yours.

—I’m in it for the long game, Mount.

It felt like your heart was twisting and stuttering, sometimes beating too quickly that you were afraid it was going to push you over the edge. You wanted him to notice, to do something to fix it. 

Time went on flying, the last few days being hectic. It was already Sunday and today Mason was playing with England and obviously, you were more than proud. He had invited your brother —his best friend—, you and your family to watch him from the special box for family and friends.

The cold air hits your face as soon as you enter the box with your family. Excited, you see Debbie and Tony, and their children already seated. You were so nervous that your hands were even sweating.

You sit next to Stacey, Mason's older sister. She gives you a smile.

—Nervous about the game? —she asks.

—A bit, yes... —you say as you settle down, your eyes scanning the pitch, looking for him. For Mason. 

—This should be an easy game, England has a better team.

—You never know. —you reply. You were almost freezing, you only had the basic England t-shirt on.

Stacey noticed that you were shivering from the cold and decided to take off the sweatshirt she had tied around her shoulders. She put it on your lap and smiled.

—Put it on, otherwise, you'll freeze to death here. —she said, laughing.

—I'm... —You said about to deny it. For a second, you thought about the cold that you would catch without the sweatshirt, so you decided to take it. —Oh, never mind.

The sweatshirt was white and had his number and surname printed on the front, in a blue font. This made you remember the uncountable times when you stole Mason's sweatshirts just to have his number on you.

Stacey, without you seeing, grabbed her phone and texted his brother: "Just wanted to say that she's here and she's got your name on her sweatshirt. Good luck! We're all rooting for you. And don't worry, she'll wait for you."

All of a sudden, Summer, Mason's niece, came up to you asking if she could sit in your lap to have a better look at the pitch. It was no secret that Summer enjoyed seeing you, as she had grown up seeing your brother and you in the Mount household.

—Look over there, Summer! There is your uncle. —said Stacey, and both Summer and you looked over to where the players were entering the enormous pitch. There he was, beautiful as always.

The whistle was blown and the match started. Everyone was immersed in the excitement of the box, watching the match carefully. The atmosphere was electric, and each second increased the tension.

—Yes! —You screamed when Mason's friend, Declan, scored the opening goal, feeling your heart beat against your chest rapidly. Summer looked up at you with wide eyes, before she started giggling. You smiled and leaned down to where she was and kissed her on the forehead.

The second half started and your eyes only followed Mason running up and down the pitch. Only one goal was scored in the whole 45 minutes of the first half, that being Declan's goal.

Abruptly, Stones stole the ball from a player on the opposing team. He ran alone, jumped over some defenders and, feinting, the ball passed to Henderson on the right side. He analyzed the position of the players spread around the pitch before passing it to Foden, who was almost close to the goal.

He passed it to Mason and he, avoiding the players, aimed and kicked with all his strength.

The world went silent for a moment. He had scored.

After realizing that he had scored a goal, Mason ran to the end of the field, right where you were. The atmosphere was pure shouting, people jumping and celebrating but you only had eyes for Mason.

He looked towards the box looking for those who truly love him and just at that precise moment, you connected glances. With a shaky breath, you stood up from your seat and waved to him, also trying to hold Summer up with your other arm.

Mason's heart melted when he saw that scene and many things went through his head: he couldn't believe he had scored a goal after so long and he also couldn't believe how beautiful you looked with his niece in your arms.

In celebration, he pointed to both of you and you could only sigh in love. The game ended with a great performance from Mason and a win for England.

As soon as he stepped into the box, he scanned the room for you, but Summer caught him off guard.

—Uncle Mase! —she ran toward him and he picked her up, planting a kiss on her cheek while she wrapped her small arms around his neck.

—My favourite person! —His eyes fell on you and he didn't know if it was his imagination or the fact that he hadn't seen you in days, but you looked prettier than usual.

You were standing at the back, watching Mason greet his family. You felt shy and awkward, which made you hate the feeling even more. All you wanted was love from him and for that, you haven't slept well in the days after the family lunch with the Mount's.

—I played well, all thanks to you. —He kissed her head and his niece giggled. The little girl ran toward her mother and then closed the door, leaving you and Mason all alone. Your family had congratulated Mason before and told you they were waiting outside.

—How have you been? —His voice was gentle like he was afraid to say something.

—Mason! —you laughed. —You just scored a tremendous goal for England and you ask me how am I? Sometimes I don't understand you.

—Alright, alright. You have a point! —he laughed, definitely not missing those nervous butterflies in his stomach. He felt like a little boy.

His gaze searched yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He scratched the back of his neck and then looked at your sweatshirt with his surname and number.

His number looked very good on you, he thought.

He gazed at your lips and he came dangerously close to you. You stepped back, hitting the table. Mason was looking straight into your eyes when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and sat you on the table. You let out a little squeal. The air was thick with tension, and all you craved was to pull him close and kiss him passionately.

—We-we should go. —you said, clearing your throat. —Your family is waiting.

Quickly, Mason grabbed your wrist.

—Mase... You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.

Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. His breath hitches.

—I feel things… —your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him say that.

Pushing his hand down, you look back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again.

What he didn't know is that he's everything you were imagining those long nights… he had never kissed you, not even touched you.

—It’s okay if you want to stop- —he said, while you slid your hands under his t-shirt. Running up and down your hands through his lower torso, you felt his abs contract.

—Mount, I'm certain that I'm okay. —you said, giggling. He smirked. Your core grows tighter with his expressions, now holding onto his broad shoulders.

Unexpectedly, you both heard from behind the closed door someone shout: —Mate, are you there? The party starts at ten, hurry!

Fuck. That was your brother.

Mason had completely forgotten about the party in honour of their win. How the fuck was he getting out of that room with a hard-on? He had to calm himself.

You, on the other side, felt your heart falls into pieces. You thought about how long you had waited for this exact moment, every time you gave your endless hope all you ended up doing was bleeding. And this time, not only he was about to leave you alone but he was going to leave you turned on.

—I'm-I'm sorry... —he said, exiting quickly from the room.

After that match, you only heard from Mason through your brother. He had told you that after the match, at the party, Mason had rejected every girl who appeared to flirt with him.

Apparently, you've had an effect on him.

Mason hated how his heartbeat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his parents' house, with a blue shirt that had printed out the number 19 on the back, hugging your figure. 

You had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, you had for sure gone through puberty. He didn’t like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.

—So, we're leaving after lunch. Do you want to meet at the stadium or at home?

You took a minute to understand. —What?

—The game, remember? We're having lunch here and then driving up to watch the game. —Said your brother, while getting on the boat. About three weeks had passed since you almost kissed Mason and now you were about to hop on the Mount's boat in Portsmouth.

You had completely forgotten about the game. During your conversations with your brother, you could sense that Mason hadn't mentioned anything about that night which was, in a way, kind of relieving.

Just like you, Mason had also forgotten that your family was coming over. But when his sister sent him a text saying that your family would join him before his game, he was flabbergasted.

You both hadn't spoken since the night of the win, but you both were thinking about that interaction since then. To forget that incident, he had spoken to one of his best friends, Ben, in search of a solution.

—Mate, what you need is a good fling. Maybe you should invite someone next time you're going on a family boat day —said Ben, laughing because of what Mason was asking him.

You got on Mason's boat, feeling heavy-hearted once again. After an hour, you were seated on the floor, helping Stacey with a puzzle, after your mom expelled you from the kitchen when trying to help her. Meanwhile, Mason and his mother sat down on the couch.

—She has grown into a beautiful woman, don't you think? —His mom said teasingly, already knowing that you were not the only one fallen for someone.

—Yes, she has. —He looked at you, seeing you laugh at something his sister had said. —Mom... I think I fucked up.

—If you had fucked up, she wouldn't be here.

—No mom, I really- —Mason got interrupted by the entrance of a tall, dark-eye, skinny blond, almost gotten out from a runway. She turned toward Mason and presented herself as Daphne, a friend. Debbie now understood why her son said he had fucked up really bad.

Your brother, seeing Daphne —the supposed fling of Mason— talking with him, turned to you.

—Forget your stuff, let’s just get off this boat. Don’t turn around okay? —his hands gripping strongly your shoulders. He knew how much you liked his best friend.

You laughed and followed your brother down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.

—Since when have I ever listened to you? Dear God, I- — Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Mason and his mother, and the presence of a girl that looked like an actual model.

She was leaning on him and he was laughing at whatever she had to say, while Debbie looked at you with pity. You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out, for a hundred times.

—You knew?

Your brother sighed before running his hands through his hair: —She's only a side thing, a one-time fling. I mean she’s not you, but he decided to find someone before Christmas. —He shrugged his shoulders and you felt the rage creeping up your body.

—What about me? When will I be happy? —you said, crying.

That sentence broke your brother's heart.

19 years to be exact, that's the time you've been waiting for him.

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader - 18+ MDNI brief suggestive content, Christmas vibes (these characters do not celebrate Christmas religiously) 🎄 There'll be much mistltoeing / It's the most wonderful time of the year - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge

"She's lovely." Laswell comments, standing at his shoulder in the living room.

"She is." He answers, but doesn't bother to look at her, too transfixed on you, watching the way you smile and laugh, champagne flute in one hand, baby in the other. Blood rushes through his body as he stares at you, marveling at how bloody good you look with the baby on your hip, and even though he knows it's an archaic mentality, he can't help but dream about giving you another. Kate gives him a smirk that he just barely catches from the corner of his eye, and he cuts her an exasperated look. "Excuse me."

"By all means."

He makes his way to your side where you're chatting with Gaz's date, Lily, wine colored velvet dress draped across your body, snug and silky across your skin. Your hair is done, styled differently, arranged on top of your head instead of your usual or pulled into something looser, shiny gold cuff curled around the top of your ear. You’re stunning, and his mind turns over, trying to determine if it’s okay or appropriate to tell you for the third time tonight that he’s obsessed with you, that he wants to get you home and worship you, wants to rip your dress off and ruin it. He wonders if you’ll let him take you home early, if you’ll be quiet for him when he bends you over the bed, if you’ll come on his cock all breathy and sweet with his name on your lips.

Emmaline sits embraced in nook of your elbow, white and green dress complemented by tiny, shiny, black shoes, babbling away at anyone who will look at her. She lights up when he steps closer, trying to tip out of your grasp towards his, discontent rising in her crumpled little brow when she can't break free.

"Hi." You beam, his hand finding the small of your back, Emmaline wriggling around to face him, leaning back with a big smile, knocking her head into his side. You roll your eyes at Lily. "I've become chopped liver to my own baby."

"Alright, sweet pea. C'mere then." He settles her on top of his forearm, chubby fist knotting into the collar of his shirt. "Let's give mama a break, eh?" You smile, relieved, reaching up for a kiss, tip toes stretching until he leans to meet you, and when you pull away, you give Emmaline one on her cheek, bright baby giggles echoing through the room. "We're going to see what the team is up to." He bounces her, and your thumb strokes a soft circle into his waist.

"Okay."

"There she is!" Gaz calls, and Emmaline squirms in Simon's grasp, pressing her face into his neck, head tilted just slightly so she can still see the guys, cheeks dimpled. She watches Kyle cautiously, incredibly shy, and Simon whispers to comfort her.

"What's wrong, baby girl? You're alright. It's just Gaz." She mouths at his shirt, and he smooths a hand over the back of her head softly. "She's not usually so reserved, loves attention."

"Ye're scaring her." Johnny admonishes as huffs, breath rolling in a fog through the chilled air, but when Simon turns, Emmaline whips around, peering over his shoulder to stare at Gaz, expression delighted.

"I don't think she's scared, Soap. Looks smitten to me." Johnny clucks his tongue, half outraged, and Gaz just laughs, stroking her cheek as she coos soft sweet nonsense towards him, making Johnny scowl.

“’m supposed tae be her favorite.” He grumbles, and Price barks out a laugh, clapping him on his back.

“Gotta get your own for that, son.” He shakes his head, reaching a finger out to her fist, letting her grab onto him. She immediately starts to drag it towards his mouth, and Price lets her, chuckling softly under his breath. “Needs something for her teeth.”

"I think we've got something in her bag." Simon rubs her back, watching how her eyes light up when she spots Price's beard, tiny fingers mindlessly drifting towards his chin. "Mama's been giving you frozen pacifiers, huh?"

"Ye should try scotch, my maw used tae give me some, when ah was a bairn." Johnny tickles his fingers across her side and she shrieks into a giggle fit, nearly choking on laughter that has him glowing with pride. "Who's yer favorite uncle, Emmaline? Is it Uncle Soap?" Johnny whispers in his best baby voice, and Simon snorts.

"She can't have scotch, MacTavish. She's a baby, and-"

"Alright out here?" You're standing in the door, half in, half out, teetering precariously on the top step, and for the hundredth time tonight you take Simon's breath away, light from the kitchen shimmering behind you like a halo, framing you in a soft, warm yellow glow, his stomach clenching.

"We're alright." He promises, already making his way towards the doorway, taking the stairs until you're within arms reach, Emmaline clapping her hands together when she spots you. "You okay?" He keeps his voice low, yet still tender, trying not to give the guys too much ammo, and you smile, spectacular and sweet, enough to make him melt on the spot.

"Yeah, just wanted to check on you two." You brush a finger across Emma's cheek, mouth opening to say something else when Johnny's voice rings across the patio, cheeky and smug.

"LT, ye're standın' under mistletoe." He hadn't noticed the cluster of greenery tacked to the bricked arch just outside the door, but it's hard to miss now, and when you glance above your head and laugh, he shrugs his shoulders. "Well..."

"Well?" You raise an eyebrow. A challenge. An invitation. Enough of both for him, encouragement not needed in the first place, his lips finding yours easily, pulling you into the bulk of his body, wrapping an arm around your waist while still holding Emma against his chest in the other. She bridges the gap between you, both of his girls safe and sheltered in his arms, and he blocks out the sound of Gaz and Johnny's shouting and whooping, focusing on the taste of your tongue, smell of your skin, plush lips against his. It's everything, you're everything, you and Emmaline- his family, his to love, to care for, to protect, emotion welling up in his chest that has him pulling away and pressing his nose against the top of your head, mouth finding your temple, your cheek, his eyes closed and breaths measured.

"Merry Christmas." He whispers, still holding you tight, and you dip forward to press a kiss to Emmaline's scalp, your hand reaching for his jaw, thumb reverently stroking across the scar on his cheek.

"Merry Christmas Simon."

[theclassiccherry]

class 2-a misc. headcanons

hey, I'm cherry. welcome. recs are open if you're interested. much love, drink some water, and take care babe. (also, a lot of this turned into their music tastes, so??)

tw: language, but that’s expected w me

====

-Todoroki and Momo are both well traveled, having been to multiple countries, and at one point or another becomes something the two share about with one another.

-Deku absolutely had a fnaf phase.

-It's canon Bakugou likes romance novels; however, sharks I present to you: Bakugou watches Bridgerton. Send tweet.

-Mina has a fake and has used it to buy alcohol; however, this doesn't work so well after the sports festival after she's disclosed as a first year.

-I saw someone posted that Bakugou is a Kendrick Lamar fan, so whoever originally posted that, full credit to you (if you know, please comment and I'll tag them) -- I'd like to add he's a Future, Metro, 21 Savage, and The Weeknd fan as well, and you bet your ass he's training to The Hills, 10 Freaky Girls, and Mask Off.

-Bakugou has a skin care routine.

-Kirishima knows 'Unwritten' by Natasha Bedingfield by heart. If it gets played, he gets into that shit.

-There's a speaker system in Gym Gamma, and everyone takes turns on aux whenever there's a class practice. Songs that get played most are as follows:

Surround Sound by JID, 21 Savage, and Baby Tate

Without Me by Eminem

Literally anything that's by Rihanna, Pitbull, Nicki Minaj, Cardi B, or Blackpink

m.A.A.d city by Kendrick Lamar

10 Freaky Girls by 21 Savage and Metro Boomin

Not Like Us by Kendrick Lamar

(idk I feel like rap goes hard when you're training to kick ass, yk)

Livin' on a Prayer by Bon Jovi (one of kiri's favorite songs)

yk Smooth Operator by Sade too 😭

-After the drake disses, no one is allowed to play drake, it gets vetoed almost immediately. however when not like us comes on, everyone holds the 'A MINORRR' and it's fucking gold

-Bakugou, Mina, Jirou, and Kirishima are primarily in control of the music cause the class tends to like whatever they play, but if enough people yell skip, the song gets vetoed.

-Deku could roast the shit out of someone if he chose to, like if you put him in Wild'n'Out he'd gut bitches, he's just too nice and keeps his mouth shut 99.9% of the time. Considering he knows so much about people, their habits, and quirks, he's also unintentionally got dirt on people. All of saying is, Deku could 1000% pull a Kendrick Lamar and end someone's career if he just decided to.

-Inko Midoriya brings food over to the class dorms for those who choose to remain in the dorms. She's the emergency contact for like, half of the class, and is essentially everyone's mom. If something's wrong, Momma Midoriya is already in the mom van and on the way.

-Mitsuki is a wine mom. Tell me I'm wrong. I'll wait.

-Kirishima has like, 50 flavors of protein powder. it's all stacked neatly on a shelf in his dorm.

-Kaminari has been banned from the kitchen, he's too much of a liability once he starts 'cooking'.

-Sato keeps a cookie jar, and bakes fresh cookies every couple days - it lives in the kitchen off to the side. He's also just really laid back, and if you're on your cycle and have a specific pastry you're craving, if you ask, he'll make it for you fresh if he has the time.

-Kirishima is a hugger and if you've had a bad day, and need a hug, just hug him. He'll sit there and hold you as long as you need, stating it's, "manly to hug it out!"

-Deku also gives amazing hugs, but is too shy to do so with people he's not close with.

-Mina and Hagakure host dance parties every Friday night for the girlies. No boys are allowed, but Aoyama is invited because he's fabulous.

-Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero play Fortnite and COD together. Kirishima called them the 'Baku-squad' once and that's when that term was first coined by the group (in my headcanons). Bakugou secretly likes that it's named after him.

-Deku, Tsu, Uraraka, Todoroki and Ilda have a Minecraft server together. Deku built a massive All Might and proceeded to live in it, Tsu has a hut by the mangroves, Uraraka lives in the cherry biome, and then Todoroki and Ilda have this really organized massive house in a spruce forrest. When everyone saw it for the first time, they all went, "holy shit...". Lest to say it soon becomes the HQ of the server when they suit up for the ender dragon fight.

-Speaking of Minecraft, Deku builds the most elaborate red stone you've ever seen, but cannot explain how and what he built to save his life. He also owns all of the Minecraft books that came out in like, 2016.

-Aizawa lives on Melatonin gummies, black coffee, and shear force of will. I also feel like at one point in his early 20s he smoked cigarettes then quit.

-Sero's hammock is something he keeps as a privilege after Bakugou broke it.

-Bakugou just happens to 'make too much' food and happens to make sure his friends have eaten properly.

-Present Mic is a die hard Mitsuki fan.

-Aizawa genuinely loves his students and does little things for them. Like at graduation, there's a small note from him to each student in their diplomas for them to find later. It's personalized for each of them, but he gives his personal contact to all in case they ever need anything (he would drop everything and help but he won't say that out loud).

-If Bakugou or Midoriya ever got ahold of Thor's hammer, they'd both be worthy. Bakugou more-so at the end of the series than the beginning. Kirishima could also lift it depending on the situation.

-Mineta's been sent to detention multiple times for looking up things he should NOT be googling on the school WiFi. Aizawa is really sick of his shit, he refuses to even look at the links anymore cause it's bad, and so he just lectures him like a hopeless parent and then gives the Chromebook back lmao

-Aizawa uses his body wash as face wash and has flawless skin.

-If Denki was a vine, he’d be the *calling roll call* “Uh, Shithead?” “It’s pronounced shi-thead”

copyright © @theclassiccherry

[nottswitch]

Hi!! :)

Congrats for your 1k hon! You deserve it🫶🏻

And for the celebration post I wanted to say Mattheo and 3 <3

hey there and thanks, babe!! i appreciate it <3 thanks for sending a request as well. yours turned out really cute! i will forever hold onto the hc that matty’s allergic to flowers. your aesthetic is…

— bloomcore

(based on the theme of flowers, gardens, gardening, and nature)

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; mattheo m-list ; how to request ; 1k celebration

"…and this is our garden."

mattheo’s breath hitched when he saw the sheer expanse of the garden of your family home. it literally hitched – it was spring, and pollen was everywhere in the air, making his airways clog almost immediately. he swallowed, trying his hardest to will his allergies away, but unfortunately, it didn’t work like that.

"how… very nice, baby," he muttered after realizing that he’d been staring ahead like a dumbass for a solid minute.

to his relief, you seemed to take his state for being in awe instead of dread. however, then you gestured for him to follow you, which made him pray to everything that is holy to help him stay alive during the next… minutes? hours? it wouldn’t be that long, right? it was just a garden.

"…and this is where my mom keeps the daisies."

you glanced back at mattheo, your eyes gleaming with excitement – showing your boyfriend the pride and glory of your family estate had been a wish of yours for a while now. mattheo gave you a strained smile that reached his eyes, making it believable – but it only did so because his eyes were itching like hell. when you turned around and continued walking along the cobbled path of the garden, he discreetly rubbed his eyes, even though he knew he shouldn’t. great. now he looked high as fuck.

"babe, come here!"

mattheo’s head snapped to the side when she heard your voice coming from behind the nearest bushes. gathering the last bits of self-control, he walked around them, met by your shiny eyes. he really, really loved seeing you happy, which was why he agreed to this little tour – he just had to be the tough guy and take it. wasn’t the first time (although never quite in this type of a situation).

he started to really doubt his own ‘tough guy’ abilities when you shoved a flower right into his face, grinning widely at his dumbfounded expression that you took for simple surprise. "smell this! divine, right?"

"absolutely…" he muttered, feeling his eye twitch. he tried not to breathe but to appear like he was, which proved to be a practically impossible task. thankfully, you quickly took the flower away, your attention already focused on something else, which gave him an opportunity to blink and wipe away the tears that started streaming down his cheeks.

"…this is where the garden ends…"

a sigh of relief.

"…and the greenhouses begin!"

no. no, no, no, no, no.

"listen, babygirl… i have to tell you something, but please, promise not to laugh."

playlist

❥ summer wine by lana del rey

❥ delicate but taylor swift

❥ lové by emma peters

❥ heartbreak weather by niall horan

❥ fall in love by damien lauretta

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home p.2

Hii guys I hope you enjoy part 2 of this story featuring a love triangle between Arthur and Charles Leclerc. If you've missed part 1 here it is.

As Arthur parks the car, the familiar Italian restaurant you used to frequent comes into view. The sight of it immediately warms your heart, bringing back a flood of memories. "Arthur, this is perfect! It's like you read my mind," you say, turning to him with a smile that reaches your eyes.

"I'm glad you like it," he replies, his own smile genuine as he steps out of the car. He quickly circles around to your side, opening the door for you like the gentleman he's always been.

Inside, the cosy atmosphere of the restaurant feels like a comforting embrace. The soft lighting, the smell of freshly baked bread, and the quiet hum of conversation from other diners set the perfect backdrop for your reunion. As you begin to catch up over plates of pasta and glasses of wine, it feels like no time has passed at all.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur," you say, your voice filled with concern as you reach across the table to take his hand. "When you told me through FaceTime that Carla had broken up with you, I couldn’t believe it. It must have been so hard on you."

Arthur squeezes your hand gently, his expression softening as he looks into your eyes. The truth is, Carla didn't break up with him—he ended things with her the moment he knew you were coming back. After all these years, it had always been you. But he can't bring himself to say that, not yet.

"It was hard," he admits, his tone measured. "But I'm much better now, especially with you here." His words bring a smile to your face, one that he mirrors, feeling a sense of relief that you're finally back where you belong.

After lunch, the two of you drive to your apartment, chatting and laughing the entire way. The sun is setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the city as Arthur pulls up in front of your building. He helps you with your bags, insisting on carrying the heaviest ones despite your playful protests.

As you both reach the front door, the sound of a door opening catches your attention. You turn just in time to see Charles stepping out of the neighbouring apartment, his eyes widening in shock when he sees you.

"Y/N?" he exclaims, clearly taken aback. "I didn't know you were back!"

You smile, surprised but pleased to see him. "Charles! I just got in today. Arthur was kind enough to pick me up and help me with my bags."

Charles glances at Arthur, his expression unreadable. Arthur, on the other hand, remains calm, giving Charles a polite nod. He had deliberately kept your return a secret from Charles, knowing that his reaction might complicate things.

"Here, let me help," Charles offers, quickly stepping forward and grabbing one of the bags from Arthur's hand before you can protest.

"Thank you, Charles," you say gratefully. "Why don't you both come in for a bit? I could use the company while I unpack."

Arthur hesitates for a moment, but Charles is already nodding. "We'd be happy to help," Charles says, flashing you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

As you walk into your apartment, the familiar scent of home fills the air. You set your bags down by the door and turn to Charles with a curious smile. "So, are you still living with your mom next door?" you ask, remembering the days when you used to spend so much time at their place.

Charles pauses, a brief flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he answers. "No, I’m just visiting. I’ve been away for a race, but I thought I’d stop by to see her." He adds casually, "I’ll probably come by more often now." His tone remains light, but there's an underlying intention, now that he knows you're back he'll come around more often.

You smile at his words, completely unaware of the hidden meaning behind them. "That’s great! I’m sure she’s happy to have you around. How’s the season going with Ferrari?" you ask, genuinely interested in hearing about his racing career. You remember how passionate he was about it when you last saw him.

Charles’s face lights up as he starts talking about the season. He dives into the details of the latest races, the ups and downs with the car, and the challenges he’s faced on the track. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself caught up in his stories, asking questions and laughing at his anecdotes.

But as the conversation flows between you and Charles, Arthur’s mood shifts. He stands a little further back, his jaw tightening as he watches his brother monopolize your attention. Every laugh, every shared smile between you and Charles grates on him. He had been looking forward to this moment—just you and him, reconnecting after all these years—but now Charles is here, and it feels like his brother is stealing his time with you.

You, however, are blissfully unaware of the tension simmering between the brothers. To you, it feels like old times, catching up with people who mean a lot to you. You’re focused on the stories Charles is telling, completely missing the way Arthur’s hands clench into fists at his sides, or the way his eyes narrow slightly whenever Charles makes you laugh.

Eventually, Charles wraps up his latest story, and you glance over at Arthur, who hasn’t said much. You flash him a warm smile, hoping to bring him back into the conversation. "Arthur, you should tell Charles about the restaurant we went to earlier. It’s one of our old favourites."

Arthur forces a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, it was nice," he says simply, his tone clipped. He’s trying to be polite, but inside, he’s fuming. All he wanted was a quiet afternoon with you, but now he’s sharing it with the one person who always seemed to overshadow him.

Charles, not as oblivious as he might seem, catches the flash of envy in Arthur’s eyes. The subtle tightening of his brother’s jaw doesn't escape him, and it only spurs him on. "That sounds great," Charles says, his voice smooth as he locks eyes with you, a hint of challenge beneath his easy smile. "Maybe we can all go together sometime."

He lets the suggestion linger, his gaze lingering on you with just enough warmth to make his intentions clear, even as he fully registers Arthur’s growing tension. Sensing an opportunity, Charles shifts a little closer, his body language open and inviting as he continues the conversation, deliberately drawing you in further.

Arthur, feeling the shift in the air, fights to keep his composure. Every instinct screams at him to pull you closer, to remind Charles that you were always meant to be his. But he knows he can't afford to lose control, not now. If he's going to win you over, he needs to play it cool—even if it's killing him inside. So he forces a tight smile, holding back the words that threaten to spill out, determined not to let his brother see how deeply he’s affected.

But Charles, fully aware of the silent battle between them, isn't about to back down. And as you remain blissfully unaware of the tension swirling around you, the rivalry between the two brothers only intensifies, each of them silently vowing to win your heart.

Here's part 3

Tags: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22