#internally nicer than they seem

[strywoven]

@lionfated has requested a story : ❝ Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale. ❞   ( -gently places down for whichever muse you’d like to bonk me back with- :> )

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Only now has Lhore considered it time for rest ( now , when legs buckle with each step taken ; now , when vision blurs each time she makes to stand & move forward— ) .  And what she thought to be but a single night of recovery has suddenly turned into SEVERAL DAYS of reprieve , condemned to many arduous hours of r e s t l e s s n e s s in a quaint town that – with each passing day – becomes increasingly more familiar to her.  Much to her chagrin ( o’ how she loathed remaining anywhere for too long ! ) .  Not that there was much to be done about it , there was no sense testing her limits further and risking more than she could already take.

It is by the third evening Lhore finds herself wondering how much LONGER it would be , ruminating the thoughts of when she could finally be healthy enough to leave by staring out the foggy window of the tavern ( there was so much to be done – but where , what , who was she to begin with ? even she had no real end to her immortal journey & perhaps that was what she truly sought from her innumerable lives ) .  The stranger’s words , at first , go unheeded ; they sound far off , distant , as if some noise the immortal cannot quite place.  She notices a reflection emerging in the glass ; a man with a furred jacket , not a local ( a hunter , perhaps ? a mercenary ? ) .  Blinking a few times , the qilin turns head , glimmering adornments strung ‘round the horns clinking softly as she moves , looking up to properly acknowledge him.  No , she certainly does n o t recognize him ; she has been here long enough to know even a few of the travelers like herself , and he did not seem like one of them ( or at least , not one of the common ones by the looks of him ) .

But what a GREETING that was , to approach and simply ask if one was okay ; not beginning with a hello , not even a who – a what – are you ?  She is befuddled , surely , but not entirely offended.  Did she still look so ill ?  Perhaps she had misjudged her own progress.  Placid features fix into a frown , pointed ears downturning slightly.  ❝ I … O h . ❞  She huffs , shaking her head at herself , at how her thoughts are so muddled , making conversation more of a CHORE than usual.  ❝ Yes , I suppose I … Must seem a little worse for wear , don’t I ? ❞  Voice is hoarse ; she may well be s i c k , too , from the sound of it.  ❝ It happens , I believe , when you travel so much and forgo rest. ❞  Guilty in tone , though she smiles somewhat , shrugging a bit haplessly ( it can’t be helped says the motion ) .  ❝ You’ve nothing to worry about , sir , but thank you for … Checking. ❞  A few moments pass ‘tween them ‘fore she speaks again , quieter this time as if she may be HESITATING when posing the offer , ❝ I can buy you a drink , if you plan to stay for a spell. ❞

[dearsnow]

YOUR REAL BOYFRIEND

- you go on your first date with your “bar boyfriend”, who seems a whole lot nicer than the guy that tried to pick you up earlier. (bob floyd x fem!reader, fluff <3, you don’t necessarily need to read part 1 but it provides some context)

PART 1

word count: 1,686

a/n - i did not expect part 1 to do so well, omg 🥹 thank you all for the love. if i had the writing stability I would’ve turned this into a series, but there is still time for that yet lol. enjoy this fluffy part 2 <3

You sit in your small apartment anxiously. Your first text to Bob has just gone through, and in the heat of the moment, you threw your phone across your bed and smothered it with a pillow. It was a simple thing, just saying “Hey! I’m Y/N from the bar :)”, and you really have nothing to be scared of, but your breaths are uncomfortably quick in the early morning. It’s like you just took a five mile run. You pick up the book on your bedside table and flip through a few pages, failing to read a single word.

You only put down your fruitless attempt at calming yourself down when your phone gives a muffled buzz from underneath your pillow. You grab it quickly, seeing his just-saved name flash across the screen.

Bob: Hello, Y/N from the bar! I was a bit worried you weren’t going to reach out, but I’m really glad you did.

You: Of course I reached out. You’re a nice guy, I would be stupid not to.

You internally groan before hitting send. He makes your insides turn to mush just by typing on a screen. At this point, you’re scared of professing your undying love.

He is a nice guy, and a polite guy, and honestly an everything-you-could-ever-want guy. You barely spent thirty minutes with the man and you already find yourself wanting to slip a ring on his finger. He’s different, a really good kind of different.

Bob: I’m flattered.

Bob: This might be too soon, but would you want to go out sometime? I know this nice place by the beach where we could get to know each other better.

You: I’d love to!! Lmk the details and I’ll be there <3

As you fling your phone across your bed again to kick your legs, you almost feel bad for it. The man of your dreams is asking you out, and you can’t physically handle the joy that’s pouring out of you right now. You can just imagine his quiet, smooth voice talking away while his eyes light up. When you get the date plan, you eagerly type it into your calendar.

Saturday, 5:30 PM, Ocean’s Cove Seafood and Bar. It’s perfect.

You don’t know how you can get through the rest of the week with the date looming in your mind, but, somehow, you’ll have to find a way to manage.

Your management ended up being text conversations with Bob so frequently it felt like you were always checking your phone for a new message. For the first time in your pitiful dating history, he was the one reaching out often and matching your energy. Talking with him is like a breath of fresh air. It’s almost better than than the fresh air you’re breathing now, walking through the open entrance of Ocean’s Cove. You immediately notice a very handsome man sitting at the table you’re directed towards, with his sandy hair styled perfectly.

As you walk over, he stands and pulls out your seat for you, only sitting down himself when you’re situated. His cheeks are tinted pink. “Hi.” He offers, clearing his throat. “You look really beautiful.”

“Thank you, Bob. You look amazing too.” You say, reaching out to brush against his blazer’s collar. “You always do.”

His face grows impossibly redder.

Just like the first time you met, you fall into the rhythm of conversation easily. It’s awkward, at first, as things often are, but it quickly becomes one of the best talks you’ve ever had. Your food is eaten between giggles and playful comments.

“He seriously made you do five hundred push-ups for someone else’s mistake? Man, you must hate this Hangman guy after he pulled that.”

���Oh, everyone hates him. In a loving way, mostly. Just be glad you’ve never been around him while he’s drunk.” Bob’s eyes are lit up, and the sight is better than you could’ve ever imagined.

You wipe your mouth with your napkin gently, trying to not rub your makeup on the soft cloth. “Wait, what’s he like drunk? He’s gotta be a character.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, and you engrave the sound in your memory. This is amazing. “He gets so competitive, but he’s too drunk to throw the darts straight or hold the pool cue proper. It’s really funny, because he thinks he’s doing well until the darts end up pinned through Maverick’s uniform.”

“Oh geez,” you laugh. “That reminds me of my old friend. She drunkenly spilled tequila down the front of our boss’s suit while trying to impress our coworker.”

“It seems like we’ve got a lot in common.” He smiles. He’s about to say something else, but your waiter stops in front of your table before he can get the words out.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, sir, but we have another couple waiting for your table. We have a three hour policy.”

Three hours? You’ve been here for three hours? You check the dimming light and realize that what you thought was forty minutes was, in fact, a hundred and eighty. Bob pulls out his card and signs the receipt, seemingly a little embarrassed that he also didn’t realize the time. “Here. Sorry for the trouble.”

The card is whisked away before you can even request a separate check. “I would’ve paid for that.”

“No can do.” Bob says, placing his hand over yours gently. “It’s my treat.”

You try to formulate a response to his kindness, but your mouth falls dry. All you can do is whisper a “Thank you,” as the waiter comes back with his card and ushers you out politely.

The outside air is heavy and chilly, cut with the smell of sea spray. As the sun dips below the horizon, you shiver. Without a word, Bob drapes his blazer around your shoulders. You turn to him, eyes slightly wide. “Are you sure?”

The question is about more than just the blazer. It encompasses everything you’ve wanted to say to him, everything that you’ve been worried about from the beginning. Is he sure that he wants to do this? That he really actually likes the person he just so happened to save at the Hard Deck?

“Always.” Is his simple reply. Your hand finds his, and he entwines your fingers like it’s natural. “I apologize if this is overstepping-“

“Do you want-“

You both start and stop at the same time. “Continue.” You say, a smile working its way up to your eyes.

“No, you go.” He insists. He swings his arm a bit, taking your hand with him. You can feel his blazer dip past your hand and onto his, as the sleeves are too long for you.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go down to the beach with me. It might not be good for our formal clothes, but I really like you, and I want to spend more time with you. As much time as possible, actually.”

This time, it’s his eyes that widen. “You read my mind. I was thinking the exact same thing.”

You laugh, a sound that’s music to his ears. It’s perfect, like everything about you. Like your humor and your storytelling ability, like the slope of your shoulders and the softness of your hands. He could spend his whole life drowning in you. “Then let’s go, before we miss the entire sunset.”

You pull him along, your thumb smoothing over his own, and he thinks he’d let you lead him anywhere. “Look, the beach is so pretty at this time of day! It’s like something out of a magazine.” You exclaim, expensive heels digging into the sand. You can’t bring yourself to care about washing the sand off, not right now.

“It’s almost as pretty as you.” Bob breathes. He doesn’t expect you to hear it, but you do. You turn around and slide your palm over the smooth fabric of his shirt, playing with the collar, before kissing his cheek softly.

For once, you take initiative in your movements. You can’t let him slip away; you think you’d be devastated if you didn’t see him again, if you never told him exactly how you feel. “I’d say it’s nowhere near as pretty as you.” You can tell your face is warm, and his definitely is. “We need to do this again.”

“For sure.” He murmurs. His expression is conflicted, and you feel a small bit of insecurity bubbling up. Does he not want this as much as you do? He takes a small breath of air, eyes flicking up to the sky for a brief moment. His glasses slide down his nose just a bit, but he doesn’t push them up. He’s only focused on the words timidly making their way out of his mouth. “Please stop me now if you don’t feel the same way.”

“If ‘feeling the same way’ means wanting to continue talking, I wouldn’t stop you for the world.” You can feel a hint of anxiety in your tone. Bob takes both of your hands, and the small butterflies are eaten by larger, rougher butterflies. Think atlas moth sized butterflies.

“In that case,” he almost whispers, “would you let me be your boyfriend? For real this time. And I won’t hold it against you if you say no, or want to wait, because I know we’ve only really been talking for a week, and-“

You cut him off with a kiss. His lips are soft and don’t demand anything from you. He reaches for the back of your head, cradling you like you might break. When you finally break away, his glasses are just a bit crooked. You reach a hand up to fix them. “Yes. Yes, I’d love it if you were my real boyfriend.”

“Awesome.” Is all he can manage to say. You giggle anyways, placing your hands on his chest.

“Next time, if a creep hits me up in a bar, we won’t have to lie.”

He places a sweet kiss on your forehead. “If I’m there, I hope he wouldn’t even think to try.”

Taglist: @seitmai

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 10: Brother Dearest

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!) Soldier Boy calls the reader "Petals."

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Only One Bed (This chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 9.7K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Manipulation, Gaslighting, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Sexual Tension, Shouting, Anger, Talks About Weed, Super Manipulative Trash Man Being Introduced, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: Back to our regularly scheduled angst...

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

It feels like you've only had thirty minutes of sleep when your body jerks upwards out of your bed to the sound of crashing and the shattering of pottery, followed by someone who doesn't sound like Ben shout "What the fuck?"

It had been a few days since you faced the supe with the ability to liquidize his form and after about five showers that included you scrubbing the skin of your body raw with both a luffa and a sugar scrub and gargling with Listerine until it felt like all your taste buds were burned off, you felt that you had rid yourself of the oppressive smell and taste of the supe.

Ben and you seemed to be falling in to a familiar pattern, he walked with you to work before going off to see what Butcher had planned for him and if he could Ben would always show up at the end of your shift to walk you home. Though each time he was less than friendly to Jake, who was still trying his upmost to get Ben to talk to him rather than Ben's usual half-grunts, shrugging shoulders, and death glares.

It wasn't working and you stopped trying to get Ben to be more friendly towards your boss, but it didn't make it any less unusual that Ben kept walking with you to and from work.

When you asked him why he walked with you he said that "You shouldn't be walking alone" which of course prompted the conversation of "I don't need a babysitter" and "I've been walking to the store for two years by myself" and him not listening to anything you said. That last bit was becoming more and more normal for the two of you.

So you rationalized that Ben was trying to be nicer to you because he wanted to try to be sort-of friends and you tried not to think about how it was making you have more feelings for him.

It was difficult not to like Ben when he was acting more friendly. When he actually made an effort to have conversations with you or sat with you quietly while you read or when he was walking with you to and from work and stopping along the way to get you coffee or your favorite tea. It was confusing to you why he was doing that, why someone who was so focused on sex was doing sweet things for you after you told him that you wouldn't sleep with him and was making you have deeper feelings for him.

So like a normal person you threw your frustration into your crocheting. Over the past week you had finished Annie's sweater, made four cat toys for Bean, and were currently working on a long cardigan sweater to send your grandmother who called last week to check in and had told you she needed a new one.

Ben had come with you to the craft store and hated every second of it. Not to mention each time you added a bundle of yarn to the basket you made him hold, he would ask "What the fuck are you going to do with that?" to which you responded "Learn quantum physics." Though Ben had been impressed with the knitting needles, thought that they could be useful enough to use for self defense and had embarrassed you when you turned around and found him trying to mime stabbing someone with them while the other people in the store watched him in horror.

You rolled out of bed and threw open your bedroom door before barreling down the darkly lit hallway and sliding into the living room on your crocheted leaf socks. "What is it?" You shout prepared for attack.

Unfortunately when you slide into the room, you do so with too much enthusiasm and you slip and fall, landing on your back with a loud groan.

That one hurt.

"You alright Petals?" You hear Ben ask from somewhere above you. It's not said in a teasing way, it's said in a growl.

Is he mad at me?

"Yep just testing if gravity is still working. It is, if you were curious." You cough out a laugh as you get up and realize that Ben isn't on the couch, he's standing in the middle of your kitchen holding someone by the lapels of his black oversized army jacket against your refrigerator.

Oh that's why he's mad.

The man is rail-thin, dressed completely in black, with hair so blond you sometimes thought it was white, buzzed over his head, and although you can't see his face you know that he'll have a set of dark blue eyes that sometimes turn black when he's angry and a pair of dark hoops curving over his right eyebrow. Ben is holding him up so high that the man's feet aren't touching the ground.

You hadn't seen your brother Darren in at least a year, not since he dropped by to crash on your couch to tell you that his buddy Roach, yes that is what he called him, was opening a restaurant and asked Darren to be his business partner. He had walked you through the technical lingo and acted enthusiastic about the prospects, told you that it was his dream to open a restaurant, but he was having a problem coming up with his half of the cash. Darren had asked you for a small loan and you'd scrambled to get it together for him.

But after about three months  Darren called to tell you that it fell through and that he was onwards and upwards trying to "make his way in the world" which by now you knew was Darren speak for "could you please send me a little more money to get on my feet." Your grandmother had stopped giving him money ages ago, but you couldn't, he was family, your only brother and you loved him.

"Darren?" You say hesitantly.

"Hey sis!" Darren smiles when you turn on the light in the kitchen, looking too happy for someone being smooshed against a raspberry and blackberry covered refrigerator.

"You know this guy?" Ben glances at you over his shoulder. He's not wearing a shirt again and you're trying very hard not to focus on how good he looks without one. The muscles on his back are flexed from the exertion of holding your brother up against the refrigerator and Ben isn't breaking a sweat.

Lifting a person probably feels like lifting up Bean to him.

"Yeah he's my brother." You take a step forward and hear something crunch beneath your foot. Your gaze drops to the floor and you understand exactly what the loud crashing noise was.

The strawberry plant that usually sits on the small kitchen table that you shoved under the window is on the ground. Shards of painted pottery litter your floor in every direction, the strawberry plant smooshed under a boot print that matches up with Darren's infamous buckled motorcycle boots. The same ones he'd had since high school that he'd tell anyone who listened he won in the same bar fight that he got the thin scar on his chin from, when in reality he got them at a thrift store down the street from your grandmother's house and the scar from when he tripped and hit his chin on the toilet when he was fifteen and trying to learn how to shave.

Must have come in the window from the fire escape.

Most of the window had been blocked by a tangerine and lemon tree that you had encouraged to grow, but now the tree was pushed to the side off kilter and the window was open letting in the warm summer breeze.

You didn't understand why Darren did that when he still had the key that you made him when you moved in.

Ben drops Darren unceremoniously onto the hardwood floor, who lands with a loud "clunk” from his boots, but your brother doesn’t look upset. He rubs his hand over the top of his head as if adjusting his buzzed hair with a sheepish smile while Ben steps back onto one of the pieces of pot on your hardwood floor, but doesn't wince.

Darren notices your gaze on the smooshed strawberry plant and the shattered remains of the pot it was in. "Ooo, sorry sissy." He frowns. "But I'm sure you can fix it can't you? That is what you do." Darren emphasizes it by waving his hand around you apartment at the numerous plants covering your walls.

You crouch down and pick up the remnants of the plant gingerly, cradling it to your chest. "Um, yeah." You force a smile, trying not to think about how important the pot was to you. It was the last thing you had of your grandfather, before he passed. It had been one of your favorite memories, sitting out on the back porch in the middle of a thunderstorm painting flowers and dots and zigzags on the terracotta pot that housed the strawberry plant that you grew on the tray of your high chair the day your powers developed.

Darren knew how much the pot meant to me. He had one too before he used it for air-rifle practice.

You put the plant on your kitchen table, before taking the broom from the hook on the wall. "Why didn't you just use the door?" You tried to say it in an upbeat way, but it fell flat.

"I was excited to see my favorite sister." Darren grins pulling you into a hug.

He smells like he always does, a bit like cigarette smoke, beer, and the stale smell of weed. But when he pulls back and sees that you're still frowning, his own mouth begins to descend into an exaggerated pout. "Did you not want me to come by?"

"Of course I did." You say, but you weren't sure. "I just thought you would call first or use the key that I got you not come through the window."

“Oh stop being so dramatic.” He pats you on the head. “I’m here now so what’s going on? You got a boyfriend-“ He gestures to Ben. “Who is also a supe?”

“Ben is my roommate.” You emphasize the word roommate before Ben can say boyfriend. That was the last thing you wanted him to say in front of Darren. You'd never hear the end of it You begin to sweep up the pieces, trying to fight the urge to cry over the shattered remains. You knew that crying in front of Darren would only make him tease you about being "too sensitive" so you kept it down and figure that you can cry about it later.

"Uh huh." Darren eyes him. "So he's got super strength?"

"Why do you care?" Ben grouches, crossing his arms over his chest, but he doesn't look away from where you're sweeping up the pieces.

Darren shrugs and holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Touchy Touchy. Just making conversation dude. I mean, you're living with my sister." He breezes, but you notice Darren stand up a little straighter when he talks to Ben and you wonder if he was embarrassed by how easily Ben was able to man-handle him.

Ben opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever he was about to say. "Darren what are you doing here?"

He brightens with the question. "Oh it's so exciting! My friend is starting up a business and-"

"You need money?" You interrupt, trying not to think about how much you could spare from the already measly sum in your bank account to help him. This month hadn't been the best and after rent and utilities you probably could only spare 70 dollars or so, but even that seemed to be pushing it.

"No nothing like that." Darren waves a hand. "I just needed a place to crash because I'm going to go meet him tomorrow."

"Oh-"

"And he wants to meet you."

"Huh?" You look up from the small pile of shards at him. "Why?"

"He said that he wanted to meet the sister who I'm always talking about." Darren shrugs, before pulling a blunt from where it is behind his left ear, and lighting it.

He talks about me to his friends?

"Uh-huh. I think that I've met enough of your friends." You reply continuing to sweep more pieces into the pile.

You were using the word "friends" hesitantly because Darren seemed to go through them so often that you didn't think that it was worth it to learn all their names. And also because one time you had run into one of the "friends" Darren made and he had proceeded to chase you down the block shouting words about your brother that were not worth repeating.

"I think you'll like this one." Darren eyes Ben again. "I showed him your picture and he said that you were classic."

You miss Ben stiffen.

"Please stop trying to set me up. I'm fine." You could feel your cheeks heating because you knew that Ben was watching you.

The last time Darren had tried to set you up you found out half way through the date that your date was his weed dealer, whose idea of a romantic first date was to take you to a gentleman's club and then try to see who would be into having a threesome. Needless to say you were underwhelmed and blocked his number. The only good thing that had come of it was the gummy bear edibles you'd nicked from his pocket when he was flirting with one of the dancers and Annie and you had enjoyed the rest of the evening giggling and eating copious amounts of pizza and snacks.

"I don't know, he's better than the last one. Definitely has more money and he's sophisticated." Darren breathes out a cloud of smoke and you wave your hand to dissipate the smog.

"Charles Manson would be better than the last one, Darren."

"Manson had hundreds of followers and was treated like a god. I think you're being too picky." Darren rolls his eyes at you while he takes a hit from the blunt.

"Only you would see Manson as a role model." You grumble under your breath crouching down to sweep the pieces of the pot into the dust pan. "But if you really want to stay here you can take my bed."

A part of you were expecting Darren to protest, to care that you wouldn't have anywhere to sleep, but he doesn't argue with you.

“Great! Thanks.” He takes a few steps towards the hallway, the cloud of smoke following behind him like a dark omen, before he stops and glances back. “You got anything to drink?”

“No. Fresh out.” You lie without looking up. You didn’t want it to mix with whatever the hell that was in his system, because with Darren it was always something.

“I swear it’s like you don’t even think about me.” Darren flashes a wide grin, but the joke kind of hurts.

As he goes you dump the pieces into a plastic grocery bag, hoping deep down that you could glue it back together, but even you know that it's probably a long shot.

Maybe I can make the bigger pieces into something else? File down the sharp edges?

Ben is still standing in your kitchen, his arms crossed, listening to Darren go down the hallway and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

The door opens again and you hear Darren mutter, “Out stupid cat," sending a fuming Bean hissing down the hallway. He trots into the living room indignantly and you stoop down to calm him down, leaning the broom against the kitchen table as you do.

Ben is quiet, but you can feel the room heat up a few degrees for a second almost as if he's angry. “Does he always talk to you that way?” Ben’s voice is low.

“He’s high.” You continue to pet Bean, not looking up. “He’s not usually so-“ You search for the word.

“Fucking rude?”

You stand up with a sigh. “You sound like Annie.”

“Oh so she doesn’t get along with him either? Shocker.”

“Ben.”

He was bristling slightly, annoyed, teetering on angry. “Fine.” He mutters.

You turn your attention to the trampled strawberry plant, gently dragging your fingers over the petals repairing the damage with a wave of your hand as you do, until it looks better than it had a few moments ago, and place it in a plastic black pot temporarily. You were again, trying not to be too upset about the way that Darren entered your apartment, but it was like him to do something like that, like him to break things that you thought were important without a second thought for how you felt.

Your relationship with your brother was hard and sometimes it felt like you were the only one trying, but you didn't want to give up on him. He was the only family that you had besides your grandmother. When your parents died, Darren pulled away, stayed out late drinking and doing whatever drugs he could get his hand on, and had multiple flings with women in the neighborhood that weren't exactly single. Your grandmother had cut him out completely, but you couldn't.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, just kind of tired.” You sigh, closing the window that Darren pried open to get into the apartment. When you turn back you realize just how close Ben is standing to you, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating out from his skin and into the air.

His fingertip lightly presses the scrunch between your eyebrows. "You're lying." Ben says it quietly.

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Do what?"

"Tell me when I'm lying. It's infuriating."

"Why?"

"Because it's the 21st century and when someone lies because they don't want to talk about how they really feel, it's common courtesy to just say 'ok' and move on!" You snap, grabbing the bag of smashed pottery. You immediately felt bad. You didn't mean to snap at him, but you were upset about Darren showing up unannounced even though you told him each time he came into town to tell you, but he never did, and about him breaking one of the only things in your apartment that had sentimental value to you.

Ben frowns at you for a minute, and you think that he's going to come up with some kind of retort, but instead he says  "Okay."

"Thank you."

You watch Ben's gaze drift back into your living room. "You can take the couch.”

It surprises you. You were just going to camp out in the bathtub and will the moss to make a pillow beneath your head. "But where will you sleep?"

“I can sleep on the floor.” He shrugs. "Don't need a bed. And I've slept enough anyway-"

“Ben you’re not going to sleep on the floor because my brother decided to show up in the middle of the night. It’s unfair.”

It was. You didn’t want Ben to curl into a ball on the floor and try to find a comfortable position, not after he'd spent the last forty years in a Russian Lab without a bed and probably without a pillow.

He shouldn't have to suffer because my brother never remembers how much I hate surprises.

“Well I’m sure as hell  not going to let you sleep on the floor.” Ben shouts.

"I can sleep in the bathtub. The moss is actually really comfortable-"

"In the fucking bathtub? You're kidding right?"

"No. I've done it before-"

"When?" Ben suddenly looks murderous.

"The last time Darren was here I didn't have a couch and-"

"That fucker made you sleep in the bathtub?"

"I mean he didn't volunteer any other options and Darren can't fit in there so-" You try to reason with him, getting confused as to why Ben was suddenly looking down the hallway like he was going to haul Darren out by the lip and make him apologize.

"I'll be fucking damned if you sleep in a fucking bathtub!"

“What is it with you being chivalrous at the most inopportune times?” You stamp your foot in frustration.

You didn’t want to sleep in the bathtub, but you were willing to if it meant that Ben had a soft place to sleep. The moss wasn't all that bad, it was squishy, and the bathroom was kind of cozy in your apartment because of all the plants you had in there.

“Forgive me, but when I grew up it was considered common courtesy to give things like beds to women. And what kind of man would I be if I let you sleep in a mother fucking bathtub?” He shouts back, using the words you had used earlier to yell at him for pointing out your lie.

“Well if you sleep on the floor then I’m going to sleep in the bathtub."

“Fine.” Ben seethes.

“Fine.”

You stand there with your arms crossed and eyes narrowed refusing to back down. Ben mirrors your stance, before he loses it.

“I think it’s fucking ridiculous that no one is going to sleep on the couch. So why don’t you just shut up and sleep on the couch?"

“Because it’s your bed!”

“I bought it for both of us to use!” He snaps back.

You glare at him, tapping your foot, before you glance at the large couch.

Honestly, when it was in the pull out position it was about the size of a full bed, maybe a little bigger, more than enough room for Ben and for you. The thought seemed almost too crazy to consider… almost. Your mouth dips into a nervous frown, anxiety electrifying in your veins.

“I mean it’s-“ You clear your throat. “It’s big enough for both of us.” You say quietly.

Ben looks at you like you’re crazy, body going taunt. “I thought you said you didn’t want me to fuck you.”

“I don’t want to fuck me Ben, but I don’t hate the idea of sleeping with you. I mean I don’t think you’re going to do anything while I’m asleep."

Ben looks angry all over again. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again! I’m not a fucking rapist.”

“No. Ben I mean-" You were waving your hands in front of you nervously trying to find the words. "I’m not saying you’re a rapist. I’m trying to tell you that I trust you and-“

Ben’s expression slackens. “You trust me?” He interrupts you in a whisper, sounding almost as if he can’t believe it, his face twisted into an emotion that you can't recognize.

“Well yeah.” Your cheeks flame bright red. “I mean we’re kinda friends and I trust my friends. I mean, do you think that I would let you live here if I didn’t trust you?"

Ben clears his throat, but doesn't say anything. "Um-" His eyes flick to the couch then back at you. "I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with." He says gruffly.

"It doesn't make me that uncomfortable." You reply, but you're already trying to figure out the mechanics of how you can sleep on the couch with him, without touching him.

"Uh-huh." Ben raises an eyebrow.

"It's okay. I'm going to get my pillow."

"I'll get it."

"But-" You begin to say, but Ben ignores you and stomps down the hallway.

Why does he want to get it?

He doesn't even bother to knock when he goes into your room and you can hear a quiet scuffle, followed by your brother shouting "What's your problem man?" and Ben's retort of "Just shut the fuck up and go to sleep." 

Ben is still grumbling something under his breath when he comes back into the living room, but he holds out your pillow for you. "Here."

"Thanks. But what did I say about you going into my room?” You hoped that the joke would ease some of the tension that you were holding in your shoulders.

"I think we threw all that out the window the other night. Don't you think Petals?" Ben smirks.

Right, the other night when he broke down my door and let me squeeze his hand.

"Maybe." You hug your pillow against your chest. "Do you-" You cough to clear your throat. "Do you want the inside or the outside?"

His eyes flick to the front door and then to the hallway. "I'll take the outside."

"Okay." You stand there awkwardly for a minute and even though you were the one who suggested this idea in the first place, you suddenly feel anxious.

I can do this. I can lay next to him and avoid touching him. What if I snore? Or drool? Or say embarrassing things? Oh fuck what if I start to have a dream about him with him literally laying right there.

“Petals, if you don’t want to-“

“I want to. I just need to wrap my head around it and I don’t want you to sleep on the floor.” You take in a deep breath and climb onto the couch, pushing yourself as far as you can into the back cushions. You don't look at him when he gets in behind you, leaving about a good three inches of space between your bodies, the two of you back to back.

It's quiet for a few minutes, but then you feel the couch begin to shake lightly and you realize that Ben is laughing.

"What's so funny?" You turn to look over your shoulder at him.

"I was just thinking that it's about time I got you into my bed Petals."

"Shut up." You snort and turn your body enough to hit him on the shoulder, which makes Ben turn over to face you.

His dark hair hangs long over his forehead, his eyes shining, and his signature smirk pulls at the end of his lips. "Make me."

Fuck. You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the flush that threatens to rise against your cheeks, when you think about kissing him to shut him up. All that did was remind you of the kiss you shared in the hallway the night he first slept in your apartment which then lead to how close he was to you and that only brought back memories of his beard against your neck outside the party. The flush that finally breaks through is coupled with the immediate blooming of the apple tree at the end of the couch. The delicate flowers fluttering open as if they were winking at the two of you.

Shit, maybe he won't notice that.

Ben glances up at the tree above the two of you confused. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask innocently.

"You made the tree make the fucking flowers."

"No, I didn't." You hit your pillow to rid yourself of an imaginary lump.

"Yes, you did. You also did it the other day when you were reading your book." Ben's eyes roam your face as if he's searching for the answer.

Oh right, when I was reading my book and it started to get a little bit steamy and everything in the room started flowering like it had been a long winter… Honestly it kinda has been a long winter, but I'm not going to think about it right now when he's this close to me. I can't believe he noticed that.

"Does it mean something?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Nope."

Ben smirks his eyes drawn to the center of your forehead where you know the scrunch is giving away your lie. "It does, doesn't it?"

"Nope. Goodnight." You turn over and stare at the back cushions of the couch. Hoping that he’ll just drop it.

He doesn’t.

"It means that you're turned on, doesn't it Petals?" Ben's breath is warm against the back of your neck, making goosebumps trail over your arms and you fight to keep control of the blooming.

"No, it doesn't."

"Do I turn you on?" You can hear the smile in his voice.

"No, and it’s not what it means."

"Uh-huh. So when I do something like this-" Ben reaches out to touch the small of your back and trails his warm large hand over the curve of your right hip.

You clench your teeth together to try to stop the power that rushes out of your body with the contact, but it's too late, the Jasmine that creeps along the brick wall behind the tv explodes, the smell of Jasmine wafting over to the couch where Ben and you are laying.

Ben laughs, shaking the couch beneath you.

"Shut up. It's so embarrassing." You moan into the pillow curling further in on yourself and pulling the crocheted blanket over your head, blushing so deeply that you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry.

“It’s not embarrassing Petals.” Ben chuckles, pulling the blanket down from your head. “It’s kinda cute.”

You glare at him over your shoulder. “I will kill you.”

Ben contemplates what he’s going to say next. "So when you're fucking someone-"

"If you finish that sentence you're not going to wake up." You warn, knowing exactly where he's going with this.

Ben only laughs at you. "Come on Petals, I'm curious. Plus you're so adamant about not sleeping with me that I guess I'll never see when you c-."

"Fine!" You shout turning around to face him again, cheeks beet red. He's still staring at you with that ridiculous smirk that makes your legs weak and sends warmth pooling into the pit of your stomach. "When I have an orgasm, I do make everything bloom. Happy?"

"I mean I'd be happier if you'd let me witness it and if you'd let me fuck you." Ben's hand is touching your waist, his thumb teasing the edge of where your t-shirt meets the top of your sleep shorts.

"Ben, we've talked about this." You say it mostly to remind yourself.

"I know." His smirk dips into a frown and he withdraws his hand from your body.

You chew the inside of your cheek thinking about how hard this is and how much you wished it could be different.

"It's okay." You whisper, because he might not have apologized, but you could see the frustration on his face. "Really, it's fine."

Ben doesn't say anything, only continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, so instead you say "I'll see you in the morning" and you turn over to look at the cushions on the back of the couch, hoping that you're able to fall asleep before he does.

Mike's screech of "I Will Always Love You" is not as loud in the living room as it is in your bedroom, but it's still enough to wake you up. The room is lighter in the morning, the gentle pulse of sunlight filters through the leaves of the plants, but sends a warm glow over your body.

Actually, you were already warm, really warm, warmer than usual.

That's weird why am I-

You inhale sharply when you realize why you're so warm. Your body is pinned into the couch cushions, because Ben is practically laying on top of you. Your back is flush against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and his face is pressed into your hair.

This isn't good.

Ben mutters something in his sleep and tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even further against his chest, and shifting his hips in a way that makes you realize that this is a lot worse than you thought. Because you can feel exactly what makes Ben so cocky begin to get excited.

Fuck, this really isn't good.

"Um Ben?" You whisper, but he doesn't wake up, instead he moans something into your hair, and shifts his hips again in a way that makes your heartbeat stutter in your chest.

Fuck. Really not good.

You knew that Ben was attracted to you, knew that he had wanted to fuck you since the moment he first saw you, so you weren't surprised that this was happening, and there was a part of you that enjoyed this. Laying in bed with him, feeling his warmth transferring to you, having his body relaxed around you as he pulled you deeper and deeper into his chest. The warmth was lovely, you didn't do well in the cold and being with Ben meant that you'd never have to worry about that again. It was moments like this that you wished you never let Ben move in, not because you hated him, but because you liked him too much.

"Ben." You say it louder.

"Hmm?" Ben groans. "If no one is dying then don't wake me up Petals." He murmurs, obviously not understanding what the problem is. You wait another minute, lying beneath him and trying to think about a way to get out of this, when Ben realizes what he's doing.

He raises his head from your hair blinking at where you're staring at him over your shoulder with wide eyes.

"Morning." You whisper.

"Morning." Ben returns, but it's barely audible, just a marvelous deep rumble that you can feel vibrating up through where he's laying on top of you.

Ben doesn't move, his eyes are a soft pine, like fresh sprigs in spring sprouting from the highest branches to stretch towards the early sun. You can't move, you feel frozen beneath his gaze, watching the gentle way the light kisses his bold features, the smooth dip of his bow-like mouth, the rough edge of his strong jaw, and the proud bend of his nose.

His arms loosen from around your waist, but he turns you towards him, so you're pressed chest to chest, without looking away from your face. Your hands are pinned between the two of you, resting against his bare chest right over where his heart beats beneath your fingertips.

Ben's green eyes trace your features, dropping to your lips before raising once more to look you in the eye as if he's asking for your permission. You know what he wants, can see it in the way he watches you, and see it in the way that his head tilts towards yours. Your lips tingle in anticipation, your heart beat loud like the thunder in a summer storm that rattles the windows of your grandmother's home. You can't draw a breath because you know if you do it'll be full of him, until all you can do is breathe him in and sink into his body until there's nothing left of you and everything left of Ben.

You're not sure if it's because you're still a little bit sleepy or if it's because Ben is so warm or if it's because all the hard edges of Ben that you've grown accustomed to have smoothed over and all you see is the version that Ben was only around you. The version who sat with you when you had a nightmare and refused to leave, the version who walked you to work every morning, the version who sat with you while you read your book, and the version who seemed to care more than he was willing to admit. But the longer you lay there with him the bigger the urge is to pull him closer.

Your hands smoothly travel up Ben's chest feeling the strength beneath the palms of your hands before you lock them behind his head, tangling loosely in the dark strands of his hair at the nape of his neck.

The apple tree at the end of the couch begins to shed flowers down on both of you and Ben’s eyes flick up to it for just a second before he smiles. It’s the first time you’ve seen him have a smile like that, one that looked so easy, so genuinely happy and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t think you wanted to make him smile like that all the time.

Ben leans forward to close the distance between the two of you, his lips warm and inviting, his forehead just barely resting against yours, but before your lips touch, your bedroom door opens and slams into the wall with a loud crashing noise that makes you jolt back away from him, breaking the spell.

"Good morning sis!" Darren crows walking in to the room. "Oh sorry, did I interrupt something between you guys?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"No." Your voice sounds high and squeaky, because he had. You're not sure what would have happened if he hadn't come in, well, you did. Ben was going to kiss you and you wanted him to.

This is getting too complicated.

Ben only frowns at your brother from his position on the couch. The two of you are sitting up now, side by side as if nothing happened, but you can't shake the memory of the warmth of his body soaking into yours as he curved himself around you, almost as if he wished to protect you even when he was asleep.

Is that why he wanted to sleep on the outside?

"Sure." Darren smirks. "Do you have anything to eat around here? Or do you only have all this shitty fruit?" Darren frowns at the raspberry and blackberry vines, the strawberry plant, the apple tree, and the lemon and tangerine trees.

"Oh." You shake off the insult. "There should be some cereal in the cabinet"

"I hope you got the name brand stuff this time."

Maybe I'd be able to afford the name brand stuff if someone stopped coming around and asking me for money.

"If you don't like anything we have, I'd suggest going to the diner across the street." Ben says tightly emphasizing that he lives here now.

"No thanks bro. I'm kinda short on cash these days." Darren replies finding the Lucky Charms cereal and pouring himself the last bowl without a second thought.

"Oh really?" Ben says standing from the couch to glare at your brother. "And what exactly is it that you do Darren?"

Darren leans back against the counter eating his cereal, but you can see the tight way he's gripping the spoon. "I'm an entrepreneur."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Ben-" You start to say, unsure as to why Ben was giving your brother a hard time.

"It means that I invest in other opportunities." Darren stabs his cereal with the spoon.

"And if you're so short on cash, how do you do that?" Ben presses.

A dark look passes through Darren's eyes. "What exactly are you getting at?"

"Well you've been here for maybe six hours and the only thing that I've seen you do is break in, take your sister's bed, and insult her." Ben takes a step forward into the living room. "So to me, it kinda looks like you just sit on your ass like a fucking pussy and mooch off of your sister, because you're not man enough to get a real job."

"What the fuck is your problem man?" Darren puts down the bowl. "I don't understand where all this hostility is coming from, but I don't have to explain myself to you. My sister and my relationship is none of your business, and I've been here a lot longer and I'm pretty sure that I'll be here longer than you-"

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Ben growls.

"Whoa wait a second-" You stand up from the couch.

"You have no idea who you're talking to." Darren's voice is low, his eyes leveled on Ben. "You shouldn’t start a fight you can't win."

Ben's lips tilt into a smirk. "Trust me, it's not going to be much of a fight."

"Whoa!" This time you plant yourself between the two of them, one hand resting on Darren's chest. You can feel a deep thrumming buzz coming through the material of his band t-shirt and into your hand and for a moment you're surprised, because your brother wasn't a supe.

Then where is it coming from?

You shake it off. "Let's all just take a nice deep breath."

Ben's eyes are still narrowed at Darren, refusing to back down from a fight, which was like him. And as much as you loved your brother you knew that he tended to have a bad temper, and the last thing you wanted was to clean up the mess when Ben pulled out his spine and reenacted Predator in your small kitchen.

"Ben please." You say it quietly, glancing at where he's towering over the two of you.

You can hear the audible click of his teeth when he unclenches his jaw, his eyes no longer the soft pine they were when you were wrapped in his embrace, but now blaze a dark green. You know that he's about to say something, but Ben's phone rings and continues to ring in the silence, until Ben sighs and turns to pick it up, but he doesn't seem happy about it.

You drop your hand from Darren's chest with a sigh, but happy for the interruption. "Why do you have to be like that?" You ask your brother.

"Me? He started it!" Darren fumes. "Boy, you really know how to pick 'em sis."

"What do you mean? We're not together, we're just friends! And wait, this isn't about him and me. He lives here and if you keep dropping by, you're going to have to be okay with seeing Ben."

"Why can't you just move in with Annie? She's better to look at anyway." Darren rolls his eyes and picks up his bowl of soggy cereal.

Maybe to you. You fight the memory of Ben in the towel still wet from his shower that you witnessed the other day and successfully stop the flush that tries to creep into your cheeks. It's followed again by how wonderful it felt to drag your hands up Ben's chest and catch in the dark strands of his hair. The fruitless tomato plant behind Darren's head begins to swell with bright red tomatoes the size of your fist.

I've got to get that under control.

The memory of Ben figuring out exactly why that happened around you flits through your mind bringing an inescapable wave of embarrassment. The day you'd found it out was when Annie and you were watching Vampire Diaries for the first time in your bedroom back home and as soon as Damon Salvatore walked onto the screen the blueberry bush next to your bed suddenly exploded. Not to mention the first time that your high school boyfriend Newton kissed you in his parent's cornfield, the entire crop suddenly came back tenfold in the middle of winter.

"She's moving in with her boyfriend Hughie." You say, trying not to sound disappointed.

When you first moved to the city, you had wanted to move in with her, but she was apart of the Seven, and when she finally decided to move out of Vought Tower, it was because she wanted to move in with Hughie, not because she wanted to move in with you. It stung the day she told you, and you'd be lying if you said that you were not still a little upset about it, because it felt like she had chosen someone else over you.

"Oh right, that's still going on. Don't know what she sees in that wimp."

"He's sweet. You don’t know him. And I don't know why you’re acting jealous, Annie and you have never gotten along-"

"Because she's a bitch! I can't believe you're still friends with her after all this time."

"Hey don't talk about her that way. Annie is my best friend, practically my sister."

"Right." Darren rolls his eyes again and swings the spoon in a wide arch. "She's always been a bitch and now that she's Starlight she's even worse. She's always had that stick up her ass even when we were kids-"

"If you keep talking about her that way, you can leave." You say simply, feeling your temper begin to flare.

You didn't give a fuck if Darren insulted you or made fun of you, you did however, care if he spoke poorly about Annie. Annie was family to you, Annie had been with you a hell of a lot more than Darren had when you parent's died, she hadn't pulled away from you and vanished into thin air when you needed someone to hold you or when you couldn't sleep or when you woke up screaming or when you couldn't stop crying.

That being said, Annie and Darren had never gotten along, not once in all the years that you'd been friends. Whenever Annie came over, Darren left, and vice versa. You weren't sure why they couldn't get along, but you did think it was infinitely better than Annie being secretly in love with your brother. He never had a lasting relationship in his life that was worth remembering. The longest relationship he'd been in was with his buckled combat boots that he never took off.

Darren lets out an annoyed sigh, but you watch remorse and sympathy drip into his gaze. "Fine. But I just want what's best for you. You know that right?" He puts his hand on your shoulder, his eyes softening. "Come on sis, you know that I'm just looking out for you? I love you, you're the only family I have left that actually cares about me."

Your heart breaks with his words, hurt that he feels like your grandmother doesn't care about him and that he felt like you were the only person in the world that he meant something to. Sure he'd messed up more times than you could count and did occasionally disappear whenever you seemed to need him, but he was your brother.

You sigh. "I know Darren. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean before."

"It's okay." He glances over to where Ben has just hung up the phone and is glaring at Darren's hand placement on your shoulder. "I guess I should go get dressed."

"Okay."

"But you're coming with me to meet my friend right?" Darren looks at you with a hopeful expression.

"Um... Well I'd have to tell Jake that I'll be a little late." You say slowly not wanting to disappoint Darren. "And I don't really like leaving him high and dry-"

You didn't like calling out from work, in fact you hadn't missed more than a handful of days in the two years that you'd been working there, because you genuinely liked going to work. Being there was like coming home, surrounded by the healing energy of the plants that thrived under your watchful eye.

"Come on the plants will survive without you for an hour or so." Darren smiles. "Do you want me to beg you sissy? I really want you to come with me. It would make me so happy."

"Well, okay." You concede. "Let me just text Jake."

"Yes! I'll be out in a minute and then you can change okay?"

"Sure."

When Darren struts off down the hallway, Ben joins you in the kitchen, glaring at Darren's back as he disappears into your room.

"Who was on the phone?" You ask him while picking up Darren's bowl and scrape the remaining soggy cereal into the trashcan under the sink.

"Butcher." Ben grunts. "Said that he got a lead on the electric supe, but it's all the way in Boston."

"Boston? But that's so far away. Why would he have an operation there and be picking up cars here? He can't be in two places at once."

"No idea, but Butcher said the lead was solid." Ben shrugs.  "And he said that he's getting everyone ready to go right now and that I need to get over there so we can get on the road."

"Everyone's going?" You ask disappointed. The thought of the entire team being gone for a few days made you feel lonely. They were kinda like your extended family. You also felt a little left out that Butcher hadn't asked you to go.

"Yeah. Butcher said that he would have asked you to come, but he knows you work most of this week anyway and that he thinks that it'll be alright if you stay here." Ben rubs the back of his neck, but seems hesitant. "Are you going to-" He clears his throat. "Are you going to be okay?"

You didn't miss the way his eyes flick down the hallway to where your brother is.

Is he worried about me?

"Why? You don't want to leave me with Darren or something?" You joke with a snort.

"No."

But Ben looks away when he says it in a way that makes you think that he's lying.

"Believe it or not Darren used to babysit me when I was little and I didn't die or get brain damage-"

"Not to your knowledge."

"Why are you so worried about me?"

"I'm not! I just-" Ben crosses his arms over his chest annoyed. "I don't think you should go meet his friend."

"Why not? I've met plenty of his friends. They're all very dude-bro. At least he has a type."

"I have no idea what that means."

You roll your eyes, before you consider something else. "Wait, are you jealous or something?"

"I am not fucking jealous!" Ben sighs. "I just think that maybe you should use your head Petals."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You going to meet his creepy friend without knowing exactly where you're going or what his friend is going to 'make you do'."

"Make me do? Ben where the fuck do you think my brother is taking me? Do you think he's selling me into the sex trade or something?" You look at him incredulously.

Does he really think so lowly of my brother? He'd never do anything like that. Darren cares about me, he's just guarded and a little rough around the edges.

"You're too fucking trusting Petals!” He explodes.

“What? I am not too trusting.”

“Yes you are!”

“No I’m not. And why are you yelling at me? Why are you mad?” You reply in confusion. “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this. I've met his friends before."

“I’m not mad I’m just fucking trying to-“ Ben clenches his jaw so tight you can see the muscle pop on the side of his face. “You’re just so damn kind and too damn stupid to see what’s directly in front of your face!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You plant your hands on your hips staring up at him, not expecting Ben to look so angry, but he does. His arms are folded tightly over his bare chest, his muscles tense, and his eyebrows are pulled together. “Are you really telling me that it’s stupid to trust my brother? He’s my brother! Not some random dude I met on the street-“

“He might as well be! In the fucking five minutes he’s been here he’s been nothing, but be a total dick to you!”

“Oh well excuse me Ben, but I’ve known him for more than the five fucking minutes that you have-“

“Exactly! You should know better!” Ben is getting angrier now and you didn't know where all of this was coming from, especially because of how you'd spent the morning and especially because he was acting differently than he had been the past few days. "You care way to much about other people and you shouldn’t! People like him look for people like you. People who are too stupid to know any better. People who as so trusting and innocent that they take everything at face value."

You stare at him with your mouth open, anger and hurt swirling together to form a cold dagger shoved straight into your heart. You didn't understand why he was doing this or why he was getting so angry.

Oh sweetie, you really thought he cared about you? It's all just an act don't you see? The little voice in your head whispered in your ear.

And it made you furious.

"I am not some innocent little girl Ben. I am a grown woman and I don’t have to listen to your toxic Hemingway Code Hero bullshit." You turn back to the sink prepared to wash out the bowl, but Ben grabs on to your wrist and spins you back to look at him.

"You should listen to me! Because caring about people who don't give a shit about you is going to get you fucking killed or worse!" His grip is tight on your wrist, but not enough to bruise. His skin burns against where his hand wraps around your wrist and you worry how much longer you have until Ben goes Nuclear.

You wrench your wrist from his hand.

"At least I have people who care about me! And yeah, maybe I'm a little trusting, but I'd rather be too trusting than push everyone away before I get a chance to know them." You shout back shoving your finger into his bare chest. "You might think that you're some big strong macho man, but if you actually dropped the fucking macho act and acted like you gave a shit maybe there'd be more people willing to be in your life and willing to care about you! Maybe that's why your entire team  collectively said "fuck you" and stabbed you in the back! Maybe that's why Vogelbaum wanted to start from scratch with your fucked up son because they knew you were too much of a asshole to admit that you need someone and didn't have the common decency to give anyone a chance!"

"I don't need anyone." Ben's gaze turns murderous at the mention of Homelander and his old team.

"I think you do, but I think that you try to bury the real you underneath all this bullshit and-"

"You don't know anything about me Petals." Ben growls, taking a step forward so that he's leaning down over you, the air warming with the heat of his anger, a slight glow emanating from the middle of his chest.

The counter is pressed into your back as he pins you there, so differently than the other day you were in the same position.

"You think just because we’ve talked a few times and because I sleep on this fucking couch every night that you know me?" He laughs cruelly.  "I'd rather have no one than be saddled with someone like you who struts around like a fucking tease with stars in her eyes trying to romanticize every single damn person she runs into. It's no wonder you haven't found a man to fuck you, because you're too busy chasing after a stupid fantasy version of a man who doesn't fucking exist and latching on to assholes like your brother who do nothing but use you!" Ben's eyes have shifted into the darkened pits again, the ones that seem to be ready to drag you beneath the raging waves.

"And I'd rather have no one than someone like you who's too insecure about his own masculinity that he feels the need to project a fucked up toxic "together" version of himself and pretends to care about other people to manipulate them into getting what he wants." You spit back, your eyes shifting bright green.

Every plant in your home begins to tremble, the energy from them flooding through your body, strengthening you, merging together as they prepare to bend to your will.

Ben's expression turns murderous, his lips pulling back in a snarl, prepared to no doubt spit back something that he'd be unable to take back, but Darren walks back into the kitchen wearing a fresh pair of clothes.

He's oblivious to the conversation that Ben and you just had and drops his arm over your shoulder. “What did I miss?”

You feel your eyes shift back to normal, but the anger and frustration still war in your chest, beating against your rib cage, begging to be unleashed. Ben doesn’t respond instead he only glares at you.

“Alrighty then.” Darren snorts when neither of you fill the silence, not sensing the tension in the air. "Don't worry there Benny, I'll take good care of her. I always do." You miss the glare that Darren throws Ben over your head.

But just for a second you think that Darren may have heard more of the conversation between Ben and you than he was willing to admit.

Ben's jaw is tight, eyes still blazing with his own anger and annoyance. "Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like a give a shit what happens to her." He states before he stomps down the hallway and slams the bathroom door so loud that all the dishes in your kitchen cabinets shudder.

You weren't expecting those words to hurt as much as they did, but it felt like you had taken a two by four to the chest.

"What's his problem?" Darren asks.

"I don't know." You grumble, because you didn't.

The shift of conversation from Ben almost acting concerned about you going with Darren to him insulting you was giving you whiplash. You didn't understand why Ben had said those things to you, why he had yelled at you for being "too trusting." You didn't think that you were too trusting. It wasn't weak to love someone or care for someone else, but you guessed that was how Ben saw it. You wondered if it was because of what Countess did to him or if it came from his trust of his team or if it was ingrained in him from when he was a child.

Does he really think I'm too trusting? I mean he saw how long it took me to trust him? Or how long it took me to warm up to him? Or I guess, sort of warm up to him?

"Are you going to change?" Darren presses, looking down at your soft shirt and sleep shorts with a frown. "You should. Maybe wear something different than those overalls though. Kinda want you to make a good impression you know?"

"Yeah. Um. I guess I'll go now." You murmur walking down the hallway. For a moment you pause outside of the bathroom where you know Ben is, and you're unsure what he's doing because you don't hear the water running, before you go into your bedroom.

You stand there for a minute, taking in a soothing breath, but it does little to calm your racing heart. The anger and frustration you felt began to crash over you and you feel frustrated tears begin to trail down your cheeks.

You weren't sure if it was what Ben had yelled at you or what you had yelled at him, all you knew was that you were hurt and you were happy that Ben was going out of town for a few days, because you didn't think that you could look at him again, not without throwing him out of your apartment on his ass.

A/N: I know, I know, maybe I'm a little addicted to the drama and the angst. And oh my word slow burns are so hard, but I promise that I do have a plan of when the two of them do finally get together and it IS GLORIOUS.

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

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@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester

[elssero]

/ MASKED

-elssero kintober

-ghostface!dabi x reader, college au!, loser!dabi, costume party, mentions of alcohol and drugs, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, actually really cute, dabi is insecure:. maybe a tiny bit ooc, but it's very cute.

a costume party? what a bore. there's a small itch in the back of your head- a silent plea. telling you to just go home- end the night early.

you were supposed to be studying tonight, a huge test was right around the corner and you knew you needed the extra hours looking over the content.

you couldn't help yourself when your roommate barged into your room an hour earlier begging you to join her and her friends. you deserved a break? right? you'd spend the entire day going over course work and a few hours wouldn't hurt?

rushing to get dressed and leave at the same time as her is a challenge but you refused to show up by yourself- far too nervous to even think about it.

your costume- if it could even be considered one is just a little pair of black cat ears, paired with the first matching outfit you pulled from your wardrobe.

the music in the house is far too loud for your alcohol levels- finding yourself next to an assortment of drinks layed out on a table. eventually finding your drink of choice. you turn around to talk to your roommate after what had to be only a few seconds to find her completely vanished-

great.

studying the crowds around you for a second- not finding any familiar faces you decide to make your way outside- recognising who you think to be a girl from your english class.

"oh hey!- sorry your uraraka right?" your silently hoping that she accepts your attempt at conversation seeing as you can't find anyone you actually know.

"uh yes i am?" she looks at you puzzled for a minute and you internally curse yourself for expecting her to recognise you-

"oh wait i know you! you sit behind me in english right? yn?" oh thank god.

"yes that's me! i'm sorry for barging into your conversation like this but my roommate quite literally disappeared on me." she only smiles at you in return-and your incredibly grateful.

"no don't worry about it! uh- if anything i'm glad you ran into me! i've been meaning to talk to you about what we're doing in class right now-" she rubs her hands together as she talks- clearly a little nervous.

"i'm struggling to fully understand what the professor wants us to do with this assignment thing-but you seem to get it pretty well? i was hoping you'd maybe explain it to me?" you flash the girl infront of you a teasing grin before asking for her number-promising you'll send her a text tomorrow so you guys can find a more appropriate time to meet up and discuss your project.

"hey um- do you know that guy over there? the one in the mask?" the girl points at a man with dark hair as she eyes him up suspiciously. "he's like- totally staring right at you- it's actually kind of creepy.."

you follow her line of sight and your immediately uneasy- his costume seems to be put together at the last minute, much like your own. but to say the vibe he gives off matches the mask would be an understatement.

despite his eyes being completely covered- his stare sends shivers up your spine. "uh- i'm not sure?"

"it doesn't look like you have much time to figure it out- he's heading this way." okay- this is fine. it's probably just some frat guy trying to be creepy.

uraraka doesn't stay by your side to figure it out- she leaves with a wink and a hushed good luck and by the time you turn around your face to face with the masked stranger.

"uh- hello there?" you try not to sound as nervous as you feel it's hard with the way he looms over you.

he seems to catch the nervousness in your voice-chuckling before he speaks- "sorry- did i scare you?"

his voice- despite the rasp is far nicer than you would've expected, the tease in his voice is evident.

"didn't mean to make you nervous- just wanted to introduce myself." you can't see the smirk on his face but you can hear it. "i'm dabi"

"i'm not nervous. just drunk- and on high alert." the he moves closer- you feel more at ease after hearing his name, certain you've heard it before.

"what'd say we head back inside- get something to drink."

a part of you wishes you'd said no- but you didn't. you allowed to him take your hand and lead you back inside. you let him fix you up some mixture of drinks that for the record tasted better than anything else you'd had to drink tonight and you'd let yourself relax- spend time with him.

the touches of your waist hadn't gone unnoticed- the way his hand lingered on yours when he passed you a cup- his arm looping around your shoulder when men approached- he seemed to like the game.

you however- we're getting sick and tired of the game. the heat pooling in your stomach was only growing with each of his little touches. enough was enough.

you grab his hand, forcing him to follow you into the first empty room you can find before you shut the door- locking it quickly behind you.

"woah pretty- what's going on? you okay?" you can't tell if the concern in his voice is false or not- but the way his hands grip your waist indicates he has ulterior motives.

your not the kind of person- you don't have one night stands- especially not with strangers, strangers whose faces you haven't even seen.

but with dabi it feels different- almost as though you can't help it, not with the heat growing in your core.

finding it difficult to find the words- instead opting to run your hands along his arms- hooking them together around his neck.

"what're you doing?" there's a laugh- a joke in his voice that completely contrasts with your seriousness-

"do you want me?"

it seems to stop his movements- the small circles he was tracing on your waist come to a hold and for a second you think you've got the wrong idea- "are you crazy?" he lets out a chuckle "of course i fucking want you"

"then what's taking you so long" it's said with newly found confidence.

"you haven't even seen my face?" some may take this as judgement- but you can tell there's more to it-something hidden. "¡ don't care" those three simple words seems to shock him.

"how?- how can you not care?" it's weird how within the hours that you've spent with the man you haven't felt the need to see what he looks like- it just feels right. "what you look like doesn't matter- jus' want you"

"fuck- baby are you sure?" his voice is strained- laced with a mix of hope and confusion. his hands begin to dig into your waist.

"yes- yes i'm sure" pulling him towards you by his neck- bringing him closer "need you- please-"

"okay- okay baby i got you-" he feels insane- crazy. to have somehow ended up so close to you, with your hands around his neck.

he'd been holding back- of course he has. he'd wanted you for as long as he can remember-you'd never know of course, that he'd had a silly crush on you for weeks.

you hike your clothes away from your lower half-exposing yourself, he has to take a second to double check he's still breathing before he shoves your underwear to the side-

he runs a finger across your slit- the dampness evident "fuck- baby your soaked." his pace is slow-

"your such a tease- been doing it all night" he lets out a chuckle at this "m'sorry- c'mere let me make it up to you-" before he slides a finger in before adding another. "oh-fuck" he slides his fingers in and out, keeping a steady pace "gotta prep you- gotta have you cum on my fingers first-"

he changes the angle slightly- fingers hitting a different spot "oh-oh" he takes notice of your reaction- increasing his pace "you like that?" you can't answer him as well as you'd like- he takes the increasing volume of your moans as a yes- "you gonna cum on my fingers pretty?"

it seems that the "yeah- just like that- let it go" you feel it coming- a release in your stomach before it happens- your cumming "dabi- fuck!"

he halts- seemingly staring at you as your mouth drops- listening to your moans as they leave your mouth-"you think you can go again?" there's an eagerness in his voice- one you can't refuse "yeah-yeah i wanna go again"

you grap at him- hand running over his bulge- not being able to waste a second before you take it out-trying not to seem shocked at the size. "wanna feel you-"

you go to take him in your hand before his is around your wrist- halting your movements "shit- baby don't talk like that"

"please- want it" and he groans- a low, deep sound.

"and i wanna last more than ten seconds-" he says it breathlessly- barely touched and he's already losing his mind.

he aligns himself- tip hitting your folds and you hear another deep moan from behind the mask."oh fuck-baby"

it's weird how intimate it is when he slips into you-moans mixing together with ease- your head falling back as he bottoms out.

"fuck- oh god." he moves against you without rhythm- instead it's desperate, rushed. "you f-feel so good"

it's unpracticed- but god does it feel good, it's like he's wanted this forever- the feeling is rubbing off on you"d-don't stop-"

"feel good baby?" he sounds cocky, and you can't even blame him because it does feel good "yeah-feels good"

it doesn't take him long before he's unraveling "fuck-think i'm gonna cum" he can't be blamed- he has wanted this forever. "it's fine- i'm protected" the sentence seems to enlighten something in him- his thrusts get faster- more uncontrolled "holy shit"

"fuck are you sure?" you wouldn't normally- but something about him just feels so right, so you let him.

"fuck- you can cum in me- it's okay" it's all the confirmation he needs before he's completely lost-blinded by pleasure "fuck baby- m'cumming!"

his face falls- landing in the crook of your neck, in the mist of his pleasure he doesn't notice how his mask gets caught in your hair- tugging it away from his face- falling to the ground with a loud thud.

you don't notice it either- not until you've came down from your high. he moves his head away from your neck- a loopy smile on his face as your eyes catch his, clearly still coming down from his own high.

it's not until he notices that your jaw has dropped-eyes wide when he thinks something might be wrong- he goes to speak- to ask if your okay before you beat him to it.

"touya?"

in an instant his eyes are blown even wider than yours- he wants to move, terrified of how you'll react know that you who he really is.

"it is you! i knew i recognised your voice" he blinks at you- your voice doesn't seem laced with any sort of malice, if anything there's a touch of excitement "oh god i hope this doesn't make class awkward."

this can't be right- surely not. why do you seem so calm about this? "uh- are you okay? you seem kinda out of it?"

"what's going on?" he seems kind of lost for words."why aren't you weirded out?" his frustration and confusion only makes you giggle.

"well- i've always thought u were cute, all quiet and mysterious." you give him a smile before continuing.

"this is a win for me."

he again- doesn't reply to you, instead looks at you in shock as you tidy yourself up, drunkly giggling to yourself as you do.

"hey uh- how about we get a ride back to my place, pick up some food on the way?" he can't fathom this- how cool you seem to be, how calm.

"uh- okay? sure." he's losing his mind he thinks, fixing himself up he lets you take his hand, dragging him out of the random bathroom you'd found yourself in.

you remind silent until you've dragged him all the way out of the house, fumbling your way to street while you wait on an uber "your kinda stupid touya- a cute stupid."

he fidgets with his fingers- but he doesn't fight the smile that appears on his face. "whatever- your paying for your own food."

[lilmoonbunny]

Co-Workers to Lovers; Albert Wesker

Warnings: Cheating boyfriend (reader's bf, not Wesker), alcohol consumption, implied nsfw.

Working alongside Albert Wesker was… interesting.

He was cold, rude, blunt, and so on with all his workers, except for you.

He wasn’t a lot nicer, but there wasn’t the same amount of judgement, hatred, and annoyance in his tone when he spoke to you.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he would kill them, your co-workers would joke that he has a sweet spot for you.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have one for him also. Most of your co-workers hated you for the special treatment you got from Wesker, so he was basically all you had at Umbrella.

Your boyfriend wasn’t fond of your work-relationship with Albert, something about how he “didn’t trust the creep” and how “he’s trying to steal you from me”.

You never believed any of that, but then again, you never believed that your boyfriend would cheat on you either.

Well, until the night you came home from work earlier than usual to the sound of moans from your bedroom.

At first, you thought maybe he was masturbating. After all, it had been a while since you two had last had sex. Work Albert had been keeping you busy.

The moment you heard the female moans, you knew what was happening, but you couldn’t stop yourself from entering the room.

“Really?” You asked him, watching his face morph from pleasure, to shock, to anger.

“You’re home early!”

“Clearly.”

Without another word, you left the room as your boyfriend of three years rushed to put his pants on and chase after you, but before he could reach you, you had already left, beginning to walk in the pouring rain.

You didn’t know what to do or where to go, so you ended up back at work. They had beds for those doing 24-hour shifts, so you could just take one of those.

“I thought you finished for today. Why are you here, and why are you wet? You’re dripping on the floor.” Whilst his words would seem annoyed, there was an underlying tone of concern in Albert’s tone.

“My boyfriend cheated on me; I walked here in the rain. Sorry, Sir.” You whispered, avoiding eye contact.

Had you been paying attention, you would have noticed the way his jaw clenched in anger, but all you heard was an annoyed sigh followed by you being told to follow him.

He took you to his office, bluntly telling you to sit before leaving the room.

You waited, eyes still staring at the floor rather than the room around you.

You were embarrassed more than anything. First your boyfriend cheats on you for God only knows how long, and now you’re crying to your boss.

“It’s not your fault.” Wesker’s deep voice sounds from behind you, the weight of a towel being placed on your shoulder pulls you from your self-deprecating thoughts.

You shrug and he sighs again, taking a seat in his chair.

“Look at me.” You do.

It isn’t easy for him, not at all, but he does do his best to put on a somewhat kinder face and try to comfort you.

“He’s a moron. Don’t worry about that idiot. You deserve better.” He says. “You deserve me” sounds his internal voice, but he ignores it.

With a quiet sigh, you nod and agree. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Albert is quite fine, Dear.” The name causes you to blush and you silently pray that he doesn’t notice or will just pass it off as you being cold, but he isn’t stupid.

“Thank you, Albert.”

Wesker can’t deny the way his body reacts when his name rolls from your tongue, but he can sure as hell ignore it. He doesn’t need feelings. He isn’t capable of them, he tells himself.

“You can stay in my office for the time being. I finish in an hour or two, I’ll drive you back to my place.” It wasn’t an invitation, it was a demand, but one that you didn’t want to turn down.

“Thank you.” You repeat, and he simply nods, passing you some dry clothes, and leaving to return to work.

Once he finished work, Albert gathered his things and lead you to his car.

Being the gentleman he is, although it was only for you, he held the door open for you, enjoying the way you blushed and muttered a thank you.

The drive was quiet. It was late, dark, and you were both deep in your thoughts.

He was wondering if he had made a mistake inviting you to stay at his home until you were back on your feet. He didn’t know how long he could go without kissing or touching you, but it also didn’t sit right with him making you stay at Umbrella offices where it wasn’t safe, or with your cheating boyfriend.

However, all you could think about was how good he looked driving, his hands tightened around the wheel and the gearstick. There was something oddly attractive about it.

Despite him being deep in his own thoughts, he didn’t fail to notice and couldn’t help the smirk on his lips which made you blush once again.

“We’re here,” he said, quickly moving to open your door for you and lead you into his mansion house, enjoying the shock on your face.

“Thank you, Albert,” you smiled at him as soon as you two were sat with drinks in your hands. “It means a lot to me. More than you can imagine.”

“It’s no problem, Dear.”

Over the weeks that you had stayed at his place, it was safe to say that you and Albert had grown closer, the same as your feelings had grown more for one another.

Albert was working more to keep himself busy, as were you, but the drives home were becoming more and more painful each time.

It was obvious to him that you had feelings for him, but he was him. Albert Wesker isn’t exactly the king of relationships, or even friendships; he had betrayed everyone in his life, after all.

He couldn’t resist, however, placing his large hand on your thigh as he drove, enjoying the way you tensed up beneath his touch and a blush ran to your cheeks, but you remained silent.

Having enjoyed your reaction, this was something he began doing every journey. He loved seeing you flustered, even more so when you stuttered when he spoke to you during the drive.

“No need to stutter, Dear. It’s only us.” He would say with a smirk.

You didn’t know how much longer you could last without touching him either, but you were afraid of rejection. Sure, he touched you, but what if he didn’t want you to touch him.

He could sense your hesitation and didn’t expect you to ever do anything, at least, until you laid your hand on top of his that rested on your thigh, your head lying on the glass of the window. It was clear you were tired, and perhaps that was why you were doing it.

You fell asleep that drive, the sound of rain and feeling of Albert’s hand touching your own lulling you into a deep sleep, one that he didn’t want to wake you from., so he didn’t. Instead, he carefully lifted you and carried you to the room you had been staying in. Your room.

Your relationship grew closer from there. You trusted him and, scarily enough for him, he trusted you also.

You went out one night with your friends, Wesker telling you to call him when you were ready to come home, and he would pick you up; he didn’t trust anyone but himself to get you home safely.

You had talked about him all night, leaving your friends wondering what was happening between you both. That was when you finally admitted it to yourself: you loved him.

Whilst the thought had always been there, completely admitting it to yourself was terrifying, but it had to be done.

However, the only way you felt you could properly think on this was by drinking more.

When it reached 3am, you texted him telling him you’ll get a cab since he was likely asleep.

Don’t be stupid, I’ll come get you. I can’t sleep. Where are you? Came his immediate reply. He would never admit it, but he stayed up worrying about you.

He was there moments later, helping you into the car so you didn’t fall with a sigh.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked upon realising that he wasn’t touching you for the first time in weeks.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then why aren’t you touching me?”

“You’re drunk. I’m not touching you whilst you’re drunk, Y/N.”

A blush ran up your cheeks at the realisation and your drunk self couldn’t stop the words leaving your lips.

“But what if I want you to? What if I want you to do more than hold my thigh?” You’d regret that in the morning, but you were too drunk to care.

Albert’s hand tightened on the wheel at your words, doing his best to calm his breathing before responding.

“You’re still drunk. I’m not taking advantage of you whilst you’re under the influence. If you still want it tomorrow, then I will.” Were the final words for the night before you fell asleep and he, yet again, carried you inside, the smallest smile on his lips.

The following morning you were terrified of facing him, remembering what you had said, so you stayed inside your room until noon when a knock came on your door.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N. We need to talk.” Came his stern voice that had both your heart and thoughts racing, assuming the worst.

“Okay.” Came your meek response as you opened the door, allowing him into the room.

It was silent for a few moments, before you offered him a seat beside you.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” He asked, staring at you. “Be honest, I won’t be offended if you say no.”

His words confused you, but as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his pupils dilated whilst he stared back, lips slightly parted. You weren’t dumb, you knew what that meant. He wanted you the same way you wanted him.

Rather than responding, you closed the gap between both of you, his hands instantly moving to push the straps of your dress that you had failed to change out of down your shoulders.

Once you pulled away, breathless and half undressed, he chuckled quietly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He teased, but you ignored it and pressed your lips to his again in desperation.

Maybe it had always been him since you met him. Maybe your cheating ex-boyfriend was just what made you realise that.

One-shot (Cheating Heart) coming soon!

[multi-fandom-imagine]

•EVEN MORE THE BLUE EYE SAMURAI INCORRECT QUOTES•

Reader: Do you ever do anything except whine like a little bitch.

Taigen: Some times I whine like a big Bitch!

Ringo: Do you think when Butterflies are in love that they feel human's in their stomach?

Reader: Ringo! What the fuck!

Reader: • • •_-• - / ... - •_• •_• -.-

Mizu: What is that

Reader: Remorse Code.

Mizu: I am even angery now.

Reader: Hey Mizu, what are you eating?

Mizu: A family sized bag of sweets.

Reader...that's not family sized....that's regular sized....

Mizu:Everything is family sized when you dont have a family.

Reader: *whispering* Mizu...nOo

Reader: *Laying in bed* Do you think birds get sad for not having arms?

Mizu: Well do you get sad for not having wings?

Reader: *Choke up* Every single day.

Taigen: If I say I love you will you say it back?

Reader: Yes

Taigen: I love you

Reader: It back

*Five Minutes later*

Mizu: Why is Taigen sobbing face down on the floor?

Reader: I wish I could block people in real life.

Akemi: Restraining order

Mizu: Murder

Reader: What are you five?

Taigen: Yea! Five head's taller than you.

Reader:

Taigen:

Reader:

Taigen:....Please don't kill me.

Mizu: Are you high?

Reader: Am I what?

Mizu: High?

Reader: Hello.

Taigen: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think.

Reader: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.

Mizu: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-

Reader: It was me...

Mizu: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

Reader: Why are you on the floor?

Mizu: I’m depressed.

Mizu: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ringo, please

Taigen: I guess I’m just a bad person.

Reader: Nah, you’re not a bad person. You’re a terrific person. You’re my favourite person. But sometimes you can be a real cunt

Reader: Hey Mizu?

Mizu, internally: There they are. My favorite person in the world, the love of my life. Fuck I just want to stare at them and hold them and kiss them for the rest of my life—

Mizu: What the FUCK do you want?

Akemi staring at Reader: “You look like an angel.”

Reader who wasn’t paying attention: “What?”

Akemi: “I said you look ugly at every angle.”

Mizu *screeching*: YOU MEAN A LOT TO ME!

Reader: wh-

Mizu: YOU’RE ESSENTIAL TO MY EXISTENCE!

Reader:why are you screaming??

Mizu: BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF! IT HELPS TO YELL SENTIMENTAL THINGS IN AN AGRESSIVE TONE!

Reader: I-

Mizu: I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

Ringo: Wow, it’s a barren featureless wasteland out there isn’t it?

Reader: … Ringo, try turning the map around.

Reader: You’re mad at me.

Mizu: I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.

Reader: Oh, come on. Everyone knows that’s worse

Mizu: Don’t worry, you’ve got everything you need to defeat them.

Reader: The power to believe in myself?

Mizu: No, a Sword.

Mizu: Stab them.

Reader: Don’t kill me, I have a wife

Assassin: I don’t care about that

Reader: That wasn’t a plea for mercy, that was a warning

Mizu kicking the door down: You called, love?

Reader: Here you are, Mizu. Nice hot cup of tea.

Mizu: …It’s cold.

Reader: Nice cup of tea.

Mizu: It’s horrible.

Reader: Cup of tea.

Mizu: I’m not even sure it is tea.

Reader: Cup.

Reader: You need to react when people cry.

Mizu: I did, I rolled my eyes.

Reader: Gotta love knitting needles, I can make a scarf, I can make a hat, I can stab someones eyes out, I can make mittens.

Akemi: What was that middle part?

Reader: I can make a hat?

Mizu: How much sleep did you get?

Reader: Eight.

Mizu: Hours?

Reader: Minutes. God! Taigen, would you shut the fuck up?

Taigen*Fixing his hair*: What the fuck? I didn’t even say anything!

Taigen: how come you’ve been abnormally nice to me lately?

Reader what do you mean?

Taigen: you just seem nicer than usual

Mizu: They can punch you in the face if you want.

Fowler: I could kill you if I wanted.

Reader: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.

Akemi: Did you really have to stab him?

Reader: You weren't there, you didn't hear what he said to me.

Akemi: And what did he say?

Reader: "What are you gonna do? Stab me?"

Mizu, nodding: That's fair.

Akemi: NO!

Reader: *Screams*

Taigen: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Ringo: Should we do something?

Mizu: No, I want to see who wins.

Ringo:Let's speak about our talents.

Ringo:...I'll start, I like to cook.

Akemi: I'm good at languages.

Reader: I'm good instruments.

Mizu: I'm good at killing people.

Reader: *Does something stupid*

Mizu: What an absolute fucking idiot.

Mizu: I can't believe I would die for them.

[lurkingshan]

My mind has been spinning and spinning around episodes 3 and 4, and I have so many feelings about them that I have been struggling to decide what I want to write about. One of @bengiyo's questions is about the different feel of this part of the story in the transition from page to screen, including the overall kdramafication effect, and I felt that most keenly where Hyung was concerned.

Let's start with the obvious: Hyung is not supposed to be this young and hot. But then, Young is not supposed to look like Nam Yoon Su, so I guess we can let that one go. More than that, though, I think episode 3 went out of its way to make Yeong Su a more appealing love interest than he ever seemed to be in the novel, and that had a clear purpose: to make the comedown in episode 4 so much worse.

Episode 3 used the familiar trappings of romance dramas to help us understand why Go Yeong was so drawn to this man despite some of his rough edges. They had interesting dates with good conversations. They shared an umbrella in the rain. They kissed sexily outside. They danced together in Yeong Su's (much nicer than described in the book) apartment. I may or may not have actually said OH MY GOD out loud when they were moving together to that old song; it was intoxicating in exactly the way early attraction is. Instead of viewing Hyung through the bitter recollections of Young's memory already knowing he's a bastard, we experienced him the way Go Yeong did when he was first catching his interest, and it was easy to see why he would latch onto this man as a balm and a distraction while he was going through a very hard time with his mother's illness.

Which means it hurt so much worse when Go Yeong emerged from that initial haze in episode 4 and realized who Yeong Su really was. He got a hard look at the deep internalized homophobia Yeong Su was carrying and projecting onto him, and it was not pleasant, nor was the way it echoed across his experiences with his mother.

Another interesting change made in the adaptation was to increase the severity of Hyung's crime; where in the novel he only searched and read articles on the evils of homosexuality, in the show he wrote the damn article while Go Yeong slept in his bed. A much larger betrayal and blow for Young. And this makes sense for the screen version, IMO; the romance is deeper and therefore so must be the fracture. Everything is just a bit bigger and more dramatic to amplify the themes of the story and to help the audience understand why this might drive Go Yeong to such a low moment without the benefit of his internal monologue to connect all the dots.

I was reflecting on these changes and how they affected the tone when I read @solitaryandwandering's thoughts, because I was intrigued by her reception of these episodes as darker, where for me, with the (much) more depressing novel version in my head, they felt lighter than expected. Which is kind of a wild thing to say about a section of the story that includes Young's suicide attempt, but context is everything! The T-aras, of course, also contribute to how different this section feels. In the book, Young is presented as so isolated and alone with this relationship, but in the show he has friends who know and care and try to help and show up for him in his low moment to make sure he is not alone. It makes such a difference to the bleakness of it all, and also makes the story feel more cohesive across the different parts in a way the book intentionally does not.

I think ultimately the adaptation choices made here were smart, and I continue to be impressed with how thoughtful Sang Young Park has been with his different visions for his story in each medium.

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: “It's not that the amount of love I had changed, but I feel so proud about it now, like that I want to shout from the rooftops and tell everyone of my loved ones how much I love my wife, MY wife, ya know?”

Or

An interview gives unique insight into Pedro Pascal and his vast amount of love for his wife

I make my way through meeting the cast of HBO's unexpected hit “The Last Of Us” rather easily.

Bella Ramsey lives in a far nicer apartment in London than anything I would have been able to afford at the same age. Despite their fame and talent, they remain settled and down to earth, dressed in an outfit a little too cool for me to understand and eager to show me around their lovely apartment that is decorated in a way that I quite liked but I'm sure my baby boomer father would find offensive. I even end up meeting Ramsey's girlfriend, a fellow actor (who I admittedly had never heard of) who is equally as young and pretty as Ramsey is. They are both lovely and down to earth, a sentiment I don't often find relatable working with celebrities.

Kaitlin Denver is in her late 20s and still looks like she could be in high school. She lives in a shared house with her sister, whom she also shares a music career with. Despite the controversy surrounding her character in the show, she seems to remain completely unfazed by the backlash and threats that surround Abby Anderson. Denver merley shrugs when I ask her how she deals with it, leaving me to assume her vices when it comes to dealing with unprecedented hate.

I meet other stars of the show too. Gabriel Luna has all the southern charm of Tommy Miller and more, making me question whether he really does any acting when playing the sweeter, younger Texan brother. Isabela Merced is very beautiful in person and is also far shorter than I had imagined. What she lacks in height she makes up for in personality and charm.

Of course, when you think of the stars of The Last Of Us, there is probably someone else that comes to mind. Securing an interview with Pedro Pascal is probably one of the harder things I have had to do in recent years. It's not that Pacal is hard to come by; in fact, in recent years we haven't been able to escape him. I originally doubted that I would even be able to secure an interview with the internet's "daddy." Pascal has had a busy few years, and this one is no different. With multiple projects coming out this year, including the new season of The Last Of Us and his highly anticipated entry into the MCU as the iconic Richard Reed, it seems that everyone wants a piece of him. While all the other actors on this list do have notable careers outside of the show, the point of this interview series was to be able to interview the main cast members of the show in anticipation for the new season; however, I found that same sentiment hard to carry across when interviewing Pascal. I don't want to spoil the show for anyone, but I will just say that he won't be back next season. Whether that's due to internal conflicts or simply being too booked, we’ll never know.

I was rather ecstatic to receive a phone call from someone on his team letting me know the time and date for our interview. Like normal, I'm given an NDA to sign before receiving any personal information, such as his address (which I did require for the purpose of the interview). But everything else seems to go off without a hitch. 

I was admittedly nervous to meet him. In the best way possible, his reputation definitely proceeds him. Pascal is only ever described as kind, loving, funny, and any other positive synonyms for a massive sweetheart that you can think of. I personally have been a big fan of his work since he played forever thirsted over narcos agent Javier Paner. I know they say you shouldn't meet your idols (and trust me, I've had my fair share of heartbreaking realizations that someone I once admired is actually a piece of shit), but I had high hopes for meeting Pedro. And I am happy to report that it did not disappoint. 

I arrived at his home in Los Angeles ten minutes earlier than I should have. Not that I'm kept waiting, as before I can get a second knock in on the door, a young woman flings it open, smiling at me tightly. She quickly lets me in, introducing herself as Pascal's assistant, offering me tea or coffee, and ushering me to sit down on the comfy-looking couch while I wait for her boss to arrive (which she insists should not be too long). I take a moment to look around the room while I'm waiting. The room is sweet and welcoming, much like the rest of the home, which feels very well... homely (like stepping into your best friend's house and chatting with their parents at the dinner table). It's a hard feeling to describe, such a sense of nostalgia from a place that I had never been in before. It feels fitting though that a man so beloved as Pedro Pascal should have a home that feels so nice. I snoop to get a closer look at the photos that hang up on the walls and sit on cabinets. Most of them seem normal. There are a few faces I recognize within the photos; Oscar Iscac can be spotted alongside a younger-looking Pascal in one of the photos on the wall. I spot John Favro amongst a few people in a photo that looks to have been taken on the set of The Mandelorian, but apart from that, the photos seem normal. They depict family and friends in various places over various years; it appears that Pascal cherishes his relationships with loved ones above all else. 

I'm stopped in my snooping by another face in one of the photos, a face I recognize instantly, a face that has been all over the internet and tabloids for some time now. Pedro's wife. The photo is the first one in which she features prominently, sitting alongside what I can only assume to be one of her husband's sisters. It's a sweet photo, one that I can imagine Pedro was on the other side of, grinning wildly while taking. Y/N Pascal is an elusive figure that the media and her husband's fans have been trying to know better for a few years now. She is what is best described as a "normie," that is to say that she is just like you and me; that is perhaps what makes her so interesting to fans. She doesn't appear to have any ties to the industry; she isn't some big-wig producer's daughter; in fact, despite their insistence, fans have been unable to find anything on her. She has no public social media accounts, no company profiles online, and no one she went to high school with has come forward with a tik tok horror story (yet!). The couple are shrouded in mystery; no one seems to know how they met, where Y/N is from, or even the highly shrouded question of her age. She certainly appears younger than Pascal by a good few years, and I'm sure that I could find thousands of posts online speculating (or being downright nasty) about how young she is. But out of respect for the happy couple, I leave it a mystery. 

The sharp heels of the sensible shoes that Pascal's assistant is wearing suddenly come back into earshot. She warns me to be ready with my stuff as “they” will be home soon. I don't think twice about her words before hauling ass back to the couch and trying to pull myself together. It's not long before I hear the front door open. Amy (Pascal's assistant that I had only just remembered the name of) runs to the door. I walk slower behind awkwardly, not wanting to intrude (despite the fact that I had spent the last ten minutes snooping around what was essentially a stranger's house). I peek round the corner to be greeted with Pascal's broad back. He is facing away from me, talking to his assistant lowly. His assistant finishes speaking and moves past me, wishing me luck in passing. Pascal doesn't turn around to greet me yet; in fact, he drops down onto one knee to reveal to my utmost shock his wife. Neither of them pay me any mind as he begins untying her shoes for her, ever the gentleman everyone believes he is. 

It's not a second later that the man of the hour turns around to greet me. He smiles widely at me, and I find myself blushing slightly at his unwavering eye contact as he introduces himself. He only introduces himself by his first name, not something I find often when meeting famous people; they are often eager to give me the name that everyone knows and loves them by. It seems a bit of a strange phenomenon in Hollywood that has missed Pascal. His wife then steps forward to introduce herself. I hate to be the bearer of bad news to the millions of jealous fans, but Y/N Pascal is strikingly beautiful; even as I meet her in her own home with no makeup, she glows ethereally with a striking smile that looks like it belongs on the cover of a magazine. In that moment meeting her I quickly see why Pascal holds her in such admiration.

Much to my disappointment, that is the first and last time I see her during the interview. Pedro ushers her away somewhere out of sight with a protective arm around her shoulder. I can hear him mutter to her lowly, promising to be quick. Before kissing her goodbye with an "I love you." It makes my heart ache with a longing. Much like the rest of the internet, I wish I had a man like Pedro Pascal. We chat for a while, while exploring his house, he speaks passionately about his career, which he clearly loves. He has a flame behind his eyes as he speaks about his long-winded love for the cinema. He tells me stories of his famous friends that are featured on his walls. We laugh together, and he very much reminds me of an old friend. Even though I should be interviewing him, I let him talk, rambling on about things that I didn't find important enough to put in this interview, but they certainly put a smile on my face. 

The house is beautiful; it's decorated nicely and feels authentic and homely. It's not massive, not overly obnoxious in the way many celebrity houses are; it's still big, the kind of size that screams loving family. I don't mean to make assumptions, but it almost feels like it's been brought with the idea of a growing family in mind. I complement the house easily. Pedro smiles at me. For the first time in the interview, he refers to his wife. He tells me that he hadn't cared where they lived; “anywhere is home when you are with someone that you love,” but insists that she had loved the house the moment they first saw it. "She has better taste than me,” he tells me with a loving glint in his eye. "She did a good job.” I compliment, he nods and smiles, "always thought I was biased 'cause I’m married to her, but glad to know it's not just me." I feel awfully privileged to get an insight into Pedro's fondness of his wife. It's not often that he speaks about her publicly; she gets mentioned in passing during interviews and is often spotted at events with him, safely away from the cameras, but it's clear to the general public that his marriage is a part of his life that he wishes to keep away from public scrutiny. 

Its towards the end of the interview that I do ask him about his marriage. We walk past a wedding photo that depicts him and his lovely bride squashed together on one seat, smiling widely at the camera. He doesn't say anything when he notices me peering at the photo. I ask him carefully if he thinks being a married man has changed him. He ponders for a second. "Probably,” he answers me carefully. It's not the response I had expected from him, so I quickly encourage him to go on. "I suppose it has in a way,” he continues. “It's not that the amount of love I had changed, but I feel so proud about it now, like that I want to shout from the rooftops and tell everyone of my loved ones how much I love my wife, MY wife, ya know?” I smile and nod at his explanation. I understand what he is saying—such a sweet sentiment that it makes my heart warm. 

We don't speak for much longer after that; he briefly mentions a few upcoming projects, which he seems excited for. I ask him what he has planned next, after his next few big projects are done. He hesitates for a second. “Truthfully,” he says, “I plan on taking a step away for a bit.” I ask if he wants to settle down more. “Yeah, that's part of it; I mean, I’m not getting any younger.” He tells me, “Things are changing soon, and I just want to be settled with my family.” He finishes. I wonder for a moment what he is referring to when he mentions these soon changes; I don't ponder on it too long; much like a crazed fan, I have a few theories floating around in my head. 

We wrap up the interview from there; he is as polite and gracious as he has been the entire time, shaking my hand and thanking me for my time. I try to thank him for the interview and for letting me into his house, but he simply shakes his head at me, insisting it was his pleasure. He disappears soon after that, saying he has something to attend to (and speed walking in the direction that his wife disappeared to). I'm left to see myself out; I don’t snoop too much after I’m left alone. I make my way back to the front of the house, peering around as I go. I peek inside one room that appears to be in the middle of some kind of renovation or do-over. There are multiple pieces of yet-to-be put together furniture on the ground as the walls look to be in the middle of being painted a pastel purple color. 

I’m about to leave when something catches my eye—on the table by the front door, which has various bits and bobs scattered over it, but none of these catch my eye. I step closer to get a clearer view of what appears to be a small black and white photo. I quickly realize what it is: tucked beneath the wallet I had seen Pedro place down before our interview began is an ultrasound. I smile knowingly as my theory is proven correct; the Pascal family is about to be adding another member. 

Congratulations to Pedro as his wife on the upcoming addition to their family.

[adnauseum11]

Joint Task Force (John Price x Reader)

You're harbouring guilt and John makes you feel better.

It's still Valentine's Day here, and thus it seems like the correct time to post this. It is mostly smut, heavy dose of fluff.

longer than normal 2.3k words

CW: swearing, explicit sex

feedback welcome!

You aren’t proud of it, but John’s illness the other night scared you. You’re not as quick to needle him and more annoyed than usual when your friends have a go at him during Trivia night. John has a thick skin and manages to laugh it off better than you do, but your touchiness doesn’t go unnoticed. You have to work in the morning and John’s promised to drive you if you want to spend the night. You do, but you’re realizing now it was a trap.

“What was going on with you and your girls tonight? They do something to piss you off?” He’s asking you, blocking the only exit from the bathroom as he casually leans against the doorjamb. You turn wide eyes at him, slowing your brushing motions to spit into the sink. John has got you pinned with his deadly blue eyes, watching for clues.

“What do you mean?” You feign cluelessness.

“Love, you can pull that innocent and clueless bit on just about anybody else. What’s really going on? You don’t normally row with those two.”

You drop the act and pout for a moment before rinsing your mouth. When you’re finished you turn to face him, fisting your hands on your hips.

“I just didn’t like the way they were talking to you. You’re not an idiot just because you don’t have a Masters’ degree. They were being catty bitches.” You sniff, trying to be flip about it but anger bleeding into your tone all the same.

“Try again.” John extends an arm, catching your wrist and using it to reel you in to him, using his bigger body to keep you corralled in the bathroom. He’s clearly not buying what you are selling and knows you too well to turn you loose.

“Well, fine, maybe I should be a little nicer to you, too.” You snap and then press your lips together in frustration, knowing you’ve given yourself away and contradicted yourself with your delivery all in the same breath. Brilliant.

“This about the migraine the other night? I told you, I’m alright, love.” John’s soothing, but you’re still guilt wracked. You feel like an idiot, constantly figuring things out too late. The realization he’s been suffering alone was like ice water to your consciousness. Saying that out loud means admitting to being a shit friend, which means John deserves better. You’ve been spiralling internally for days.

John’s massaging up your arm, having worked out the quickest way to defuse you is to override your nervous system. It’s hard to stay anxious when your methodically being turned into jelly. His sharp blue eyes stay on your face though. It’s like he can sense there’s something else circling underneath your bluster and concern. When he gets to your shoulder he steps back, steering you out of the bathroom and over to bed. You let him, his warm, mollifying touch turning your energy from frenetic to something more malleable.

He's got you spread out on your belly on his bed before you can think of a reason to resist him, his big hands smoothing under the tank top you wear to bed, pressing into tight muscles with practised swipes. There’s an epic battle going on between the anxious tension locked into your muscles and John’s determination to figure out what you’re stewing over.

If there’s one thing John knows how to do, it’s extract answers from people that aren’t eager to give them up. He complains gently about your tank top getting in the way, that he could do this better if he could move more freely. You’re just on this side of ‘too relaxed to care’ by now and oblige him, letting him help you remove it over your head. He doubles down, long slow strokes pressing you into the mattress firmly, forcing little groans out of your lungs. You can vaguely hear him hum in satisfaction; your mind completely focused on his hands.

“Why do you think you need to be nicer to me? I think you’re pretty nice as it is darling.” John presses the issue, not stopping in his work, using the heels of his palms over your lower back. You can hear the smile in his voice and know instantly he’s thinking of the times you’ve put your mouth and hands all over him. You wonder if the flush that’s taking over your face and chest extends to your back and if John can see.

“Do you get migraines often?” You ask instead of answering and John is quiet for a moment. Your brain drifts as his hands seek out the knots along your spine.

“My nerves get confused sometimes. Been around a lot of explosions and gunfire, must have rattled something loose. Not usually as bad as it was the other day.” He jokes gently but he’s being truthful, giving you the answer you’re actually looking for.

“I hate that I didn’t... I didn’t even consider that, John.” You admit to the mattress, completely unable to even partially face him while you force the words past your lips. John’s silent but his hands continue to move, sparking hope that maybe he doesn’t agree with your internal assessment that you are, in fact, an awful selfish person.

You don’t even think when he hooks his fingers in the thick elastic of your sleep shorts, lifting your hips for him automatically as he shimmies them down. His strong hands grip your thigh, running his thumbs up the middle of your hamstring. You’re moaning before you can stop yourself, loud in the quiet of the room. The sensation of his thumbs pressing down firmly on the big muscle enough to make you weep.

“Like that, do you?” You can hear the smile in John’s voice again and he repeats the motion to the same effect.

“My god, that should be illegal.” You manage to slur out and John chuckles, switching to your other thigh. He makes his way down to your ankles and then back up before responding to you. He’s got handfuls of your ass before you know what’s happening.

“This should be illegal. I want a medal for managing to hold a conversation with this to contend with.”

You finally laugh, letting him break your sour mood. Your muscles are so relaxed they feel weighted but you feel lighter inside somehow, your affection for the man pinning you to the mattress only ever growing. When he rolls you onto your back, you’re too suffused with relaxed pleasure to feel self-conscious about being naked with the exception of a pair of panties.

You can see the warm smile stretched across John’s face, making his blue eyes twinkle. It’s reassuring, his solid warmth pinning you down. He leans over you, balancing his weight on an elbow by your head, bracketing you under him before he kisses you. The taste of him is familiar to you now, and a thread of desire begins to spool tighter, low in your belly. You suck on his tongue when he swipes it between your lips, garnering a groan from somewhere deep in his chest. His teeth rasp lightly over your bottom lip, making sparks fly at the back of your scalp and behind your eyelids. He breaks the kiss but only to continue to press kisses over your jaw, nuzzling at your sensitive earlobe before sucking on it gently.

John’s lips are hot, anchoring you in place as he explores down the sweep of your neck. His whiskers drag across your delicate skin, sending shivers down your spine and directly to your pussy. It makes all thought impossible, words nearly beyond your reach. Your fingers find his biceps, the hot press of his mouth dizzying.

John misreads your grip on his arms and pauses, looking down at you.

“Want me to stop?”

“What? No, don’t you dare.” Your breathy voice has a pleading quality that galvanises him, teeth rasping over your pulse point before swirling his hot tongue over the same spot. He’s shifting overtop of you, resting more of his weight on you. His hips snug against yours, his erection slotting against you like a hot brand. You’re suddenly desperate for movement, friction, and hook a leg over his hip, arching against his solid body. John won’t be rushed but knows what you want, and rolls his hips against yours in appeasement. The flash of pleasure stutters your mind and you moan, your leg tightening around his hip.

John’s palm settles on your breast, squeezing the soft flesh with tenderness, the hunger on his face at odds with his touch. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging it up and he obeys immediately, leaning back to tug it up between his shoulder blades and toss it. His hand resumes its exploration, his thumb circling your nipple as his hips rock, grinding against you. You’re certain he must be able to feel how wet he’s making you, the fabric trapped between your bodies damp beyond measure.

He bends, wrapping his mouth around the tight bud of your nipple, making you arch, desperate to get closer to the pull of his lips. Your fingers find their way to his hair, gripping the short strands as he groans his approval.

John’s hand has slid down your body and is tugging your panties down, leaning back to guide your leg down off his hip while he strips the last stitch of clothing from your body. You have to release him to let him work and you do so with a whimper, dropping your hands down over the hard planes of his body. You can only wonder at what John sees – flushed cheeks and wild hair, legs spread and eyes glassy with desire in the semi-darkness.

“Alright, love?” John asks, leaning over you to plant another searing kiss on your lips, returning to his place between your legs. You can feel him leaning, hear his bedside drawer and realize he’s getting a condom.

“Can I?” You ask breathlessly and if John’s surprised, he hides it well, the expression on his face pure mischievousness.

“Not if you want this to last more than a minute.”

Leave it to John to be sarcastic while he’s hard as a rock, with your legs wrapped around him.

He’s propped himself up on an elbow, the other hand wrapped around the base of his cock to guide himself into your body. The blunt head of his cock sinks in and you can’t help the answering moan that sounds suspiciously like his name. John curses, his hips flexing as he slides home, your head tossing on his pillows.

“Fuck me, you are gorgeous.” John groans, pressing his face into your throat, setting a steady pace with his hips as he moves over top you. Your fingers dig into the back of his shoulders, gripping his big muscles as he strokes into you, again and again. You can feel the coil of tension tightening in your belly, each rocking thrust just grazing your clit.

“John” You gasp, and you want to tell him to move just slightly, want to tell him where you need his touch but when his blue eyes meet yours a wave of emotion closes off your throat, leaving you panting helplessly. He hitches your thigh over his hip, grinding into you, understanding somehow anyways, making you moan wantonly. The sounds of your pleasure only drive him on, the slap of skin a counterpoint. Your hands slip off his shoulders, the heat between you making you both sweaty. Your nails rake down his side, tearing a groan out of his chest.

He shifts again, leaning back to slip his arm under your leg that isn’t hitched over his hip. The back of your knee slides into the crook of his elbow and the change in angle is enough to nudge you to the edge of orgasm. Your eyes go wide as you feel your body respond to John’s thrusts, your inner muscles low in your abdomen fluttering on the precipice. You can’t help but call his name again, needy and high pitched. You slip your hand between your bodies, stroking your clit and drawing John’s gaze. It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart.

He hunches over you, his rhythm breaking as your entire body clenches around him, a wailing cry rattling out of your throat. John’s hips stutter as your body clutches at him, his thrusts turning shallow as his orgasm slams through him.

You spend the next few moments panting, John's forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.

“Sorry sweetheart –“

His voice is ragged, rumbling against you.

“god John, why are you sorry for making me cum like that?” Your eyes are drifting shut, every muscle in your body feeling like lead after the massage and then orgasm. You are certain your brain is partially liquified.

“mm, was going to make it last longer.” He murmurs into your ear, making your back arch and your nipples tighten all over again. You force your eyes open to look at him and the tenderness on his face makes your throat close again.  

You make a small noise and grip at the thick muscles of his shoulders, which he seems to understand and kisses you repeatedly. He pulls out, disposing of the condom and brings you a water on his way back to the bed.

You haven’t found the energy to move an inch so John rolls you onto your side, spooning you tightly. You clutch at the arm he slings around you. Sleep drags you under, still tightly gripping John’s hand.

Taglist:

@deadbranch

Next Chapter

[sixerstanley]

just read a bit in a fic where Ford pats Stan's head and calls him a "good boy" and Stan has an Awakening™ and i cannot stop thinking about it (its just a small bit in the fic tho, although I'm not caught up with it yet). you cannot convince me that they both don't have praise kinks

with ford its basically canonical or like, at least the fact he desires praise and basks in it (which bill gave him).

with stan i think its a bit different? like he desires praise, he wants praise and wants to be told something different other than the fact he's good for nothing, but i have a feeling that when he does get it? he freezes up. i can see him shrugging compliments off from ford, him just saying "shut up" while looking away, because it can't be true. He's always been the fuck up, has always messed things up no matter how hard he tries, so when someone (ESPECIALLY FORD, someone he cares for and respects and loves) tells him something that disrupts the perception he was made to have of himself, he truly doesn't know how to react.

And when he is able to un-freeze himself, he shrugs it off. Because he doesn't believe them. When you're told that you're nothing but a screw up your entire life, so much so that you make that a part of your identity, when someone starts to--god forbid--compliment you, its uncomfortable as hell. And it seems contradictory and makes no sense on paper, because wouldn't you want that? Wouldn't you crave all the praises in the world, because nobody has ever given you the time of day before?

The answer is: yes and no. Because it's one thing to fantasize about it, because that's all it is--a fantasy. A fantasy of not being who he is, which, in his mind, is a giant, walking mistake.

So, when Ford starts becoming nicer to him, giving him compliments here and there since defeating bill, Stan doesn't know how to handle it. It disrupts his reality, his perception of himself.

I think, if stan were to ever work out his issues, at least internally, or if maybe ford can kind of notice that there's a malfunction in Stan's brain every time he compliments him, it could be worked on. Maybe a chat about it (unlikely knowing these two), maybe a fight about it (more likely), or maybe Ford taking drastic measures like tying stan to a bed and praising him until he starts to believe him.

anyway. bottom line is that they both have praise kinks, but stan's is way more complex and less straightforward than Ford's.

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: Just over 1k

A/N:

This story takes place in a AU where Harry's parents are still alive so Remus Lupin still has all his friends and there is no war however that doesn't make him any less angsty. Everything else is pretty much the same as the canon universe! Enjoy!

MASTERLIST  | SERIES MASTER LIST | Part 1, Next Chapter

The wizarding world and the muggle world have always felt like two completely different worlds, maybe that's why Witches and Wizards who are muggle-born become outcasts. It's hard adjusting to a school but adjusting to a whole world at 11 is even harder. Even in your last year of Hogwarts you still didn't feel like you belonged, each summer going back to the muggle life that you have always known, working a summer job at a coffee shop and hanging out with muggles rather than wizards. You had friends in Hogwarts of course, some closer than others and even though it helped you feel more at home you knew that after Hogwarts you'd end up working a muggle job.

Maybe that's why entering your last year at Hogwarts didn't seem as intimidating because at the end of the day it didn't really matter what results you got in your N.E.W.T.S. Still in its own way you knew you'll miss the castle and the life you've lived in it. So your final train ride to Hogwarts felt a bit bittersweet. One thing didn't change, once again a new Defence against the dark arts teacher got introduced, this time one called Remus Lupin. He looked a lot kinder and nicer than the last one.

Your first week went by extremely quickly, quidditch practice hadn't started yet so you had more time to just hang out with your friends. All your lessons were easy so far as everyone was settling to being back. The new profesor was quickly becoming everyone's favourite due to his friendly nature, he seemed to befriend every student something no other profesor really did. You didn't really get to interact with him too much one-to-one during lessons as whenever he had free time the girls with a crush on him would jump onto the opportunity. You didn't really care about DADA as you wouldn't need it in the muggle world but you did understand why everyone was developing a crush, you had your own brewing for him.

It didn't take long for you to get home sick, homesick for the muggle world. Nothing really felt right to you, not even the food it just never tasted as good as what your mother would make, you missed your parents terribly it was a lot harder sending them owls than sending owls to wizard families, they didn't really grasp the concept. The twins could see that you were getting down again, they knew this happened every year after summer, and they've always tried to help lift your spirit. "Y/N we were thinking it was a good time to plan the first prank of the year what do you say?" Fred said. "Y/N is in her last year, she can't be participating in your silly games." Percy answered for you. "Who invited him?" George snapped back.

"Percy might be right I can't get in as much trouble as I did last year I don't want to get suspended, I'm on thin ice with old Minnie after the last prank we pulled before summer." You admitted, maybe you didn't care about your exam results but you didn't want to get suspended. The debate continued and you ended up agreeing to planning a prank that you may or may not help with. After dinner you decided to take a quick detour to the covered bridge, at the end of your fifth year you discovered it was empty in the evenings as it didn't lead to anywhere people would go at that time of night, it instantly became somewhere you would go for peace, and once you discovered smoking, it also got added to the list of secret smoking spots.

When you approached the middle of the bridge you saw a figure standing smoking a cigarette, you felt a bit gutted someone was using your spot but also excited at the idea of someone being so alike you. You approached them and they quickly put out the cigarette. "Don't worry man, I'm not a teacher I won't snitch." You claimed as you walked up to them before you could make out who it was.

"I know but I am." The figure replied, you were now close enough to make out that it was Professor Lupin. He was no longer leaning over the edge but standing straight with his hands in his pockets.

"I won't snitch if you won't?" You said pulling out your own packet of cigarettes. And his face turned to a gentle smile.

"I really shouldn't-" He protested. "Oh come on, you're new. This is normal." You preached. "Yeah Minerva and I do this all the time but don't tell her I told you." This got a laugh out of him.

"I may have believed you up until that point Y/N. But that's where you've lost me." He remembered your name and for some reason it made your heart skip for a second, he had so many students that he's met in one week and he still managed to memorise yours.

"Come on I'll give you a smoke if you don't tell anyone?" You reached out the pack to him "Camels?" He questioned while taking one. "You know them?" You took one out the packed for yourself before putting it away. "They're muggle smokes." He stated nonchalant, there wasn't any hate in those words which was rare around these halls. "I like them." You pulled out a lighter to light your cigarette while he snapped his fingers and it was instantly lit. "How did you do that? You instantly snapped back . "Do what?" He smiled while holding the cigarette in his mouth, he was attractive in the moon light. "Light it with a snap." You replicated his previous action. "It's a simple arson spell, just a small flame. I used wand less magic." He explained "If it's wand less why did you snap your fingers? Surely you could've just done it." You pressed. "Yes. You've got me there." He admitted. "So you were just trying to impress me?" Slipped out before you realised how those words could sound flirty, you barely knew the man. Truthfully if he wasn't your profesor and this was an interaction with a student you would be developing a stupid crush on them.

"You could say that." He said, with half a smile on his lips. "I'm the new profesor who you've just caught spending the evening by himself smoking, I don't want you to tell everyone I'm boring now I seem impressive."

"Or insecure." You shot back and he bit his lip and shook his head in disbelief at your words. He decided not to reply, instead went back to leaning over the bridge looking out into the darkness and smoking his cigarette and silence fell upon you both.

"I like the camel ones, just because the camel is cute." You broke the silence after a while, you felt bad for calling him insecure and wanted to kill the awkwardness. He laughed at your comment. "You know smokings bad for you? Even if the camel is cute." He said flicking the butt of his cigarette into the darkness. "I know." You quietly replied.

He checked his watch before standing up straight"Curfew has already started so don't stay out here too long as Snape is the one on duty today." He began to walk away. "Professor-" He turned around at your words. "This didn't happen right?" You questioned nervously. "What are camels?" He replied with a wink. "Have a good evening Y/N."

"You too Professor."

NEXT CHAPTER

[gojo-mochi]

Content: Fem!Reader Virgin!Reader. Escort!Zoro. Blood Play, Biting (Lots of Biting), Zoro being cat-like, Virgin deflowering, Dacryphilia, P/V, Oral (Fem Receiving) ,Creampie, Bruising and Marking.

A/N: Cough,,,,, Anyway… Ahah First part of the event!! Woo!! *dodging Tomatoes* IM SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG. I PROMMY ILL TRY TO BE BETTER

Word Count:10k

"There's no off switch on a Tiger…"

You nervously paced around the room as you dialed the number on your phone. You just went with your gut instinct and chose the guy at the top of the list. It's not like you didn’t skim through the whole booklet; this ‘Zoro’ guy just looked the most appealing to you. The light green hair and the scowl etched on his handsome face were something that you couldn’t get out of your head. His description doesn’t seem that bad either… I mean, they did say that he has a “Soft heart on the inside,” so surely that means he’s not a bad guy, right?

You look at your phone and heave out a shaky sigh as you press the call button, holding it up to your ear as it rings. 

Beeeeeep…

Beeeeeep..

…Click

“...Hello? What ya want?” 

A tired and gruff-sounding voice spoke through the other line. He gave out a yawn when you paused in your reply with another; “Hello? You there?” Your face was already heating up from embarrassment, “Ye-yes, I’m here! Sorry, it seems like I woke you up…” You paced faster around the room, trying to calm down the shakiness in your voice. He lets out another yawn, grumbling out a “Tis fine… so what did ya want?” 

You almost tripped on your feet as you trip over your words on the phone, “Well, I-uh-saw your ads in this booklet, Zoro, right? Anyway, I wanted to see if you were free tonight to….um..”

“To fuck you, yeah? That's the ad you saw, right?” He finished your sentence for you, with the sound of rustling in the background, indicating that he had gotten up from wherever he was sleeping. “Yeah, I’m free. Which hotel are you at? Oh, and give me the room number too.” Your heart was beating rapidly now, it was all happening so fast, the guy was just so casually saying yes to sleeping with you without any details.

“Wa-wait, I have something to say first-” You sucked in a breath, “I-I’m still a virgin so-it would be nice if you were gentle with me..?” You trail off at the end, unsure of what else to say or add, the voice on the other line went quiet for a bit, you thought that the call got disconnected and went to check when you heard a soft snort and a cough. Like the man was trying to hide the fact that he was laughing. You huff out in displeasure, “Sorry, sorry, tis just was you were really cute with the way you were asking me.” 

You chewed on your bottom lips as your chest started to pound again, but this time for a different reason. The man sounded a lot nicer than before, with the sleepiness waving away from his voice. “I’m staying at the Thousand Sunny Hotel and room 257, also is there anything else I need to do to…prepare at all?” You heard a silent pause again with the same snort as before,but this time the man did not care to hide that he was outright chuckling at your question. “Wow… you really are a virgin, huh? Thought you were fooling me, to be honest.” 

You gasped, shocked that he would think you were lying about this. “Don’t worry, girlie, I’ll take care of you.” You had no reply to that, not with the way your stomach was tying itself in knots as his voice seemed to go down an octave deeper and the nickname sent pangs of heat near your core as well. “I’ll be there in about 20 minutes. Be a good girl and wait for me, yeah?” You nod at his question before remembering that you’re on the phone and he can’t see you. “Yea-yeah! I’ll be good!” You cringe internally at how you replied so obediently back. He ends the call with another chuckle, softer this time, you flopped down on the bed. Staring at your phone screen, replaying what just happened in your head over and over again. 

‘Holy shit, I’m actually doing this, I’m going to have sex with someone I don’t even know.” You were a mixture of nerves and excitement, rolling on the bed, giggling like a schoolgirl over how hot the guy sounded over the line. There was his picture on the booklet, but attaching it to his voice too? Oh, man, it just made him instantly ten times hotter in your mind. You look at the clock, ticking down the time until your escort comes. You were too excited to just lay in bed until he arrived. Though you did stop in your tracks when his voice rang in your head, “Be a good girl…”

You weren’t even sure what that meant… how do you be a ‘good girl’ for him? Stay and wait on the bed until he comes? Try to doll up somehow? Your mind starts to wander downward into more raunchy ideas. The idea of him walking in on you preparing yourself open with your fingers made your legs start to shake. You jumped back down on the bed and screamed into the pillow, emotions too high and foreign for you to fully express. You push your face into the pillow for a while, waiting for your racing heartbeat to fully calm down, only to shoot up again once you see that 15 minutes have passed on the clock sitting right on the nightstand. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, you grabbed the pillow you were face planting in and clutched it close to your chest. Eagerly looking at the door with wide eyes, you squeezed the pillow to your thumping chest as you imagined the sound of a ticking clock in your head. Slowly counting down until your man comes knocking on your door. Time seems to crawl slowly toward you, moving at a snail’s pace. 

.

.

.

Ok, you were too scared to look at the clock before, but you felt like a lot of time had passed and there was still no sign of Zoro. You finally decide to check your phone in case you somehow missed any notifications, you scroll through your messages only to find some messages from the friend that recommended this service. 

Bestie: Heyyyyy, how's it going? You get dicked down yet? 👀

You: No, he told me he was coming over like 30 minutes ago I think…

Bestie: Oh?  Maybe he’s just stuck in traffic or something.

You: I hope so…

You chewed on your bottom lips as you checked the time again, sighing out, you went to scroll on various apps, hoping to keep your mind occupied. You got lost in the void that is social media apps for quite a while, only barely snapping out of it once you scrolled past the 40th cat video on tiktok. You took another look at the time, now it has been close to an hour passing since your call with Zoro.

Hot tears began to drip down on your face from the embarrassment you started feeling. ‘He must think this is so funny…’ You even started to doubt if this whole escort service was even real in the first place, did your friend set you up? You wipe away your tears with a small sniffle, sensing anger slowly boiling up in the pits of your stomach, replacing the embarrassment and sadness. You dial the number once again to give Zoro a piece of your mind. 

The dial tone only rings once before Zoro's gruff voice once again enters your ear. “Hey-” “What the fuck is wrong with you!” You screamed into the phone, cutting him off before he could spew any bullshit excuse to you. You tried hard not to make your voice wobble, forcing it to be steady with all the tears still streaming down your face. “Oy-What’s the hell your problem, woman?” Zoro sounded annoyed, which made you even more angry. “What's your problem?! Did you think it was funny to do this kind of shit?” Your voice cracked at the end, you barely heard Zoro’s reply as you broke into sniffles and choked sobs. “Wh-what the hell are you on about?” He growled out, only to mutter a soft “Shit..” when you whimpered at the harsh tone.

“Listen, just tell me what’s wrong alright? I can’t help ya, if all you do is cry. Shit, I'd rather just have you yelling at me again.” His voice takes on a more soothing tone to try to calm you down. You hated how it was instantly working on you. You wipe away at the snot and tears on your face, wincing at the smeared makeup on your sleeves now. “Just drop the act already. It's been over an hour and you’re not coming, I know that-” “It's been over an hour?! Fuck, if they didn’t change the stupid street names, I would had been there by now.” Zoro grumbled some more obscenities into the phone as you heard his pace quicken. 

The gears in your mind grinded to a halt for a moment, listening to Zoro curse out once more; “Damn it, how many streets are named after this Roger guy anyway?” He was still walking around on Gol D Roger’s Street? You stayed silent to listen some more and quickly gathered that this guy was really bad at directions, considering he somehow ended at the same street sign again for the fifth time. You giggled, causing Zoro’s attention to turn on you. “You’re laughing now? God, women are so weird sometimes... So, is everything ok now?” 

You giggled some more and snorted at his last comment. “Yeah, I think I know what happened now, you’re lost aren’t you?” The pregnant pause on the other end was the only answer you needed to start laughing out right. “It's not my fault that the stupid construction workers keep changing where they post the damn street sign!” You heard the sound of a metal pang and another growl. Zoro was probably kicking the poor street sign. You stopped your laughing fit to help the poor street sign from getting even more abused.

“I thought you ghosted me or something to be honest…” You whispered, emotions still stirring inside your stomach. Your honesty stunlocked Zoro for a bit, you were on the verge of apologizing when his voice came out in a whisper too. “Don’t apologize, I should have called you and told you I was coming late, I can admit that was my fault at least.” “Why didn’t you?” You hugged your knees close to your chest, rocking on your heels as you strained to hear Zoro’s voice now that he was speaking quietly. “...I didn’t think of it until now, shit, listen I understand if you want to pick someone else now so-” “No!” 

Your cheeks heated up at how fast you said that, clearing your throat you spoke again; “I-I mean, it would be a waste for both of us, since you've been walking around for an hour, I don’t mind still spending the night with you.” Now it was Zoro’s turn to chuckle; “Alright, since you want me that badly.” You almost regret sticking with him now, almost. “I just need to find out where the hotel is from here and I promise this time, I’ll be there soon, ok girlie?” You couldn't help but smile at the nickname he gave you.

“How about I try to lead you to the hotel, so you won’t get lost again?” You ignored his words stating that he wasn’t lost. “I know that Roger’s Street isn’t that far from the hotel, I think I know the way to get here from there.” Zoro lets out an affirmative grunt waiting for your directions. You spent the next 20 minutes trying to lead this dense meat head to the hotel. When you told him to take a right and he said that the right takes him to a wall, you argued that he took a left not a right like you said. 

This happened for quite a while until he finally saw the bright neon Lion Head that the hotel had on top of its sign. You wanted to stay in the call to make extra sure that he wouldn’t get lost on the way up to your room to be honest but Zoro argued back that he was fine now. You weren’t quite sure you believed that after the ordeal you went through. The phone call ends and your phone screen fades to black, giving you the first look at yourself in a while. 

Your makeup was smeared all over your face, lipstick half gone, mascara running black streaks down your face, not to mention your red nose and puffy eyes completing this whole messy look.  You rolled off the bed cursing to yourself. Zoro was coming up to your room soon and you looked like a fucking wreck. You silently prayed that he would somehow get lost on his way up to your floor somehow as you entered the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and rubbing harshly at your skin. 

You let out a squeaked and jumped when you heard banging at the door. ‘Maybe it's room service or the hotel staff…?’ You hoped it was, grabbing a towel and wiping away whatever makeup you can on it, the poor towel could only do so much though. You tentatively walked over to the door and looked through the peephole to find a burly green-haired man on the other side, his arms were crossed and you didn’t know if he was intentionally flexing or not because the veins in his forearms and biceps looked delicious.

You sucked in a nervous breath as you unlocked the door, opening it just a bit to peek at Zoro, saying a quiet “Hello…” you stepped back as he approached the doorway, hiding half of your face in the towel. Zoro was very tall and very very buff, only wearing a white tank top that was straining to keep his pecs covered and black joggers which you can faintly see his dick outline in. He fully stepped inside the room and the door behind him shut closed with a click. He locked the door himself, before turning away to stare down at you with a lopsided grin. 

You bunch up the towel more, hiding your face in the fluffy stained cotton. Zoro took one step towards you, making you almost bump into his chest. “I come all this way and you won’t even show me your cute face, girlie? I feel wounded.” He emphasizes the last word by clutching a fist over his heart with a mocking hurt expression. The tips of your ears go red at his teasing, you try to push him away with a hand but he didn’t even budge when you tried a second push with all of strength. 

Your hand pressed firmly on his left pec, you grunt seeing how he doesn’t even feel your weak attempt at shoving. You, however, felt a lot, hand squeezing lightly on Zoro’s pec, since he wasn’t actively flexing, it was not quite squishy but not firm either. You start to knead on it like a curious kitten for an unknown amount of time only broken out of your spell when Zoro grabbed both of your wrists. You didn’t even realize that your second hand also joined in the fun some time ago.

“Is this what you really gonna pay me for all night?” Zoro tilts his head at you with a bigger smirk plastered on his handsome face this time. You just now noticed that he really does have a scar going over his left eye. Zoro continues on as your voice is stuck in your throat. “Thought you were gonna have me take your virginity tonight, girlie? Hmm? Gonna let me be your first fuck and spread that cunt of yours with my cock right?” His crude words made you gape like a fish out of water.

He pulls your wrist up to his neckline. “Hold on to me, ok sweetheart?” Your mind was already melting from touching him and now he changed nicknames on you too. You nod and wrap your arms around his neck. “Good girl, good listener. I like that.” He purred leaning in near your ear as his arms hoisted up your legs, instantly wrapping around his waist on instinct. He goes to hold your ass with one hand, giving it a good slap making you squeak out his name, while his other arm holds your back. 

He lifted you with such ease, swiftly carrying you to the edge of the bed where he gives your ass one last squeeze then gently sets you down. Your towel had fallen off when he picked you up so you tried to hide your face with your hands this time but Zoro was quick enough to react by pinning your wrists above your head. “Aht Aht, I want to see your pretty face, hide from me again and I’ll be forced to do something about it.” He lets go of your wrist to part your thighs apart, kneading at the plump skin the exact same way you were kneading on him earlier. 

You were scared to ask what he meant by “Do something about it” but all thoughts went out the window when Zoro started to pull down your shorts, his fingers easily dipping into the waistband and sliding down your thigh all in one swoop. Your shorts were already gone past your knees by the time you realized what was happening. “Zo-zoro!” You squealed, hands clambering to stop him but it was too late. Your shorts were pulled off one leg with ease and then discarded behind Zoro as he got it off the other. 

You didn’t know what kind of undies to wear to a night like this, deciding between lacey or a thong or something else for hours in the morning. In the end, you just went with plain white cotton panties, afraid of being mocked for wearing something frilly or too sexy. Despite Zoro only having one eye left, his intense stare sent chills down your spine. Eyeing up your panties like it was his prey, he was even licking his lips as well. 

You whimpered, shrinking down on yourself as you tried to close your thighs and hide away from Zoro. Zoro’s clicked his teeth at you, making your cheeks heat up in further shame, he let you close your thighs but his rough and calloused hands went back to groping them, he rested his chin on the edge of your knees. Looking up at you with the same intense fire, you gulped nervously, wanting to just go and hide under the covers. 

But you can’t run away now, not when you were this far and especially not when a handsome man is on his knees for you like this. The silence felt like forever between you two, Zoro was testing you, seeing if you break and give in all on your own, but you held firm, whether it was due to fear or your own stubbornness you don’t know. You jumped when his chuckle broke stillness in the room; “Stubborn girlie, huh? While I do like that, I can’t exactly continue my job here if you keep your legs closed forever.” He pats your thighs twice with a smirk. 

Your struggle to come up with a retort of some kind but only another whimper left your lips as Zoro’s fingers digs a little deeper in your thigh as he hoists himself back up face you. One hand traveling up right after to gently lift your chin up, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. “Just give me the word, girlie, and I’ll give you the world.” His words came out more gentle than you thought it would but with an underlying tone that he meant what he promised.  Zoro looked like a tiger in waiting, calm and collected but ready to pounce at a moment’s notice on any innocent prey that fell into its path. 

And you were that prey, trapped in his sights, caged in by one strong arm on your stomach, his other hand still on your chin, making sure you can’t look away. Though yes, you were trapped, Zoro did not make another move, the hand on your stomach lightly tracing small circles on your skin. He was still waiting for your answer, you knew that you could just stop now and he would let you leave without a fight but you wanted more, more of him, more of the man you barely know, an escort who’s job it was to fuck to you until you were satisfed.

So why were you still hesitating? You signed up for this, you made all the preparations beforehand and now here you are, right where you wanted to be. Zoro tilts his head to the side a bit just like a curious cat, his gold earrings dangle together as he does. You steel your resolve once more, ready to give your answer to Zoro, in the form of an action not words. You press your lips hungrily against Zoro’s, tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip. Tasting mint on your tongue at the first swipe, you groan quietly, tugging onto Zoro’s tight tank top as a silent plea for more. 

You felt Zoro lips quirk up into a smirk at your actions, making your cheeks burn a bit but all thoughts of quitting went out the window when his tongue invaded your mouth. The wet muscle took over your mouth quite easily, leaving you gasping in the small moment when he let you have air. Your body jolts and moans when Zoro’s bulky hand squeezes at your chest. Massaging the soft mounds gingerly, letting your body fall apart into his hands. 

You were like putty being shaped and molded into whatever shape Zoro wanted you to be, so needy and pliant. He parts away from your lips for a few moments, causing you to let you a high pitch whine at the loss of contact. “Tch, already so needy, girlie? Bet your pussy already soaked down there, where did the cute and shy virgin act go, huh?” He squeezed at your chest a bit harder as he uttered those words. 

You sucked in your bottom lip, feeling shame at his words, though your body betrayed you by pressing in closer to Zoro's body, hands clawing unabashedly at his chest. A low growl came from Zoro and then you were laying flat on your back with Zoro sucking harshly on your neck. You quickly grasped onto his shoulders to anchor yourself. “I knew you were secretly a slut, hahh, so fucking needy, looking at me with those eyes, can’t even keep your hands off of me can you?” He grunts out, licking a long strip down to your collarbone as you arch your back off the bed, accidentally grinding against Zoro’s bulge. He backs away just enough to get rid of his tank top, offering you a full view of his glistening abs. 

“Fuck girlie, I bet you want me to stick my cock in you right now, huh? Breed you like the slut you are. Fuck that virgin cunt of yours until you’re begging me to stop. Mmm, maybe you won’t even ask me to stop and I’ll just have to fuck you all night and day.” He nibbled on your collarbone, leaving a path of purple splotches and bite marks, getting annoyed at how your shirt was stopping him from going further, letting out another louder growl. “Arms up.” He commanded, his own hand already pulling the hem of your shirt halfway up your stomach from impatience. You followed blindly, mind spinning from the harsh words he was spewing but you can’t say he was exactly wrong about it. 

He took your shirt off in a frenzy, pulling the garment up and over your head arms and throwing it to the side. Hand palming at your sides, his lone eye staring down at you, lips parting to show off his fangs. “You've been keeping this all to yourself for this long?” Hands expertly unclasping your bra and feeling your bra from your skin, uselessly thrown to the side as well.  He grasped on to your chest, the callous pads on this thumb coming to rub harshly on your nubs. He doesn’t leave time for you to answer this question, as he dips his head to latch on the other side.

The tongue that was just moments ago mapping out the inside of your mouth was now, flicking so deliciously on your nipple. Your nails dig into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself back to reality but Zoro’s seem keen on making you go dumb on his tongue already. His free hand was pinching and pulling on your other nipple, the quick pain switched with the white hot pleasure of his tongue and mouth slurping on you. His other hand was roaming on your skin, gripping on your waist with enough force to leave bruises in the morning. 

“Nnagh-hahh-Zo-Zorooooo~!” 

The amount of drool Zoro left on your chest was already seeping down your side and now to the bed. Not that the both of you cared about it. You took a small glance down and the image you saw almost made you cum. Zoro's eyes were closed shut, small beads of sweat on his forehead, making his mossy hair stick to his skin, he was intensely focused on working his tongue on you. It was a vulgar sight, watching his tongue flick in and out of his mouth in such quick successions. He must have felt you staring at him, because he opened his one eye and took one look at your face and smirked. 

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?” 

You gulped down the spit that you didn't know was pooling in your mouth as you were watching him. Giving a shy nod in return, too afraid to use your voice. He chuckled deeply, pressing kisses down your stomach, hands giving you one last tight squeeze. You let out a small laugh, as you continued watching Zoro, he was giving small kisses and licks on your bare skin. He really was like a big tiger, the way his rough tongue felt on your skin. His eye flickered on you when you snorted at the image of Zoro with cat ears on, eyebrow raising up in question. 

You smiled at him, finally feeling your anxiety and embarrassment wash away bit by bit. Feeling brave enough to run your hand through his hair, it was a bit coarse and sweaty but nicer than you imagined it to be. You swear you could feel and hear Zoro purring at your touch, a low rumble coming from the back of his throat as you gently tug on his hair and scrape your nails against his scalp. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the sensation for a moment, nuzzling his face on your stomach causing you to giggle once again.

Zoro let out a content sigh on your skin, arms dragging down your side slowly, to dip his fingers in your panties. He nips at your skin to get your attention, “Yur’ ok with going further right?” his voice coming out a bit hoarse. You nod but Zoro shakes his head; “I need to hear your cute voice, girlie, tell me what you want me to do to you.” He nipped at you once again, making you whimper at the sharp pain from his fangs. “I want…” You own tongue felt heavy on your cheek as you tried to say what you truly wanted. “I want your cock in me, please Zoro, I need you in me so badly.” 

Zoro growled heavily, “Fuck girlie… yur’ makin’ me lose my mind here.” He pulls down your panties, letting out a groan seeing a sting of your arousal being connected to the base of your panties. “I can’t just shove my cock in you just yet, even though yur’ already this wet, gotta prep you first.” He slaps your pussy, making you sit up straight with a yell. “Zoro!” Now he was snorting out a laugh, you close your thighs and scoot away from him but his grip on your thighs was tight. “Sorry, sorry..” 

He didn't really sound apologetic but you decided you didn't care anymore once his rough tongue was on your pussy. He was also a messy eater on your pussy as well, spitting on it and watching his spit mix in with your juices before diving right back in. One hand secretly going down to pull down his gym shorts and boxer. Kicking it off of him with a lack of grace. More focus on having his tongue gulping down your juices. 

The slurping noises that echoed in the hotel room made your head spin wildly. Zoro’s nose bumping into your clit, as his tongue works its way between your folds and inside your hole. He never stayed in one spot for too long, always moving his head up and down or side to side. The juices cover the entire half of his face as he does so. Your thighs were shaking so much in his tight grip as you never felt this kind of pleasure before. “Nnaghh, fu-fuck me-I-Zorooooo-Mmmahhh!”  You just kept on babbling, hands white knuckled on the hotel sheets, back arching everytime Zoro gave your throbbing clit some attention. It wasn't enough though, the small amount of attention from his nose or swipes from his tongue wasn't enough to push you over the edge.

You were going delirious at this point and Zoro wasn’t even trying to tease you. He was just simply lost in your arousal, enjoying himself too much. You knew this by the way he was rutting himself on the bed, making the frame shake slightly with each thrust. You weakly yank at his hair, whimpering out a small “Zoroooo…” in hopes that he would get your desperation. It took a couple of tries until he understood what you wanted, letting go of your thigh, with one hand coming under his chin to slip a finger in.

He groaned seeing how easily his finger slides in your sloppy cunt, adding in a second just as easily. The stretch of his fingers still burned a bit at first but once Zoro’s lips found your clit again, you found yourself arching off the bed with Zoro’s free hand pushing on your stomach to hold you down. You gush all over Zoro’s face and chin which ended up in him making more obscene noises as he slurps up every drop he could. Fingers still scissoring themselves inside of your walls, adding a third finger once you calmed down from your orgasm. 

“Still here with me, girlie?” Zoro’s voice rasped out, looking up at you from between your thighs, face slick and shiny. 

You could swear that his pupils turned into cat-like slits for a second there. You swallow some dry spit down to speak, knowing that Zoro wanted another vocal answer from you. “M’ goo-good. Do-don’t stop.” He growled at you; “Never said I was gonna stop, girlie. Not after seeing how much this slutty cunt is taking in my fingers so well. You think you were going to leave without my cock stuffed in her first?” You whimpered out when he started biting down on your hips and inner thighs. Marking his place on your skin with vigor, speeding up his fingers, angling his wrist just right so he could hit you in the sweet spot. 

He knew you were close again when your eyes began fluttering close and that cute little mouth of yours turned into a ‘o’. If this wasn’t a job, he would have stopped his fingers as soon as you were close enough, and made you beg him to make you cum. But he prided himself on being a good escort, at least enough to compete with a curly blonde, so instead he planned to make you cum as much as possible tonight. His tongue slipped its way in your sloppy hole as well, slurping up all the cream that was still pouring out. 

He was fighting really hard not to get drunk off of your pussy and focus on your pleasure right now, but with your moans and whimpers and the way your body kept cutely twitching off the bed, he might break soon. This time his free arm was well prepared to soothe you as you reached your second orgasm of the night, bucking your hips into Zoro’s awaiting mouth, as his fingers slipped out to rub at your throbbing clit. 

“Mmahh! Zo-fuuuuuck-Zoro!”

“Let it all go, girlie, hahhh, doin’ so good, like the cute slut you are.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, chest heaving heavily, your mind buzzed so loudly in rhythm with your racing heartbeat. You scarcely register your ankles being hoisted up over Zoro’s shoulder and the weight of his fat cock slapping against your cunt. His hand goes to tightly grip around your neck, leaving you gasping for air. “Look at me, can’t be fucked that dumb yet, your pussy still crying out for me. Can’t you hear her?” He emphasizes this by shoving his fingers back in, making your cunt squelch lewdly with each thrust. 

Sqelch “Ngghhh” Shlick Shlick “Fw-ahhh!”

“Zo-Zoroooo.” You pathetically whine out, your hands pushing at his bicep to get away from your sensitive core. He lets you push him away, slipping his fingers out easily to only then shove them at your lips, growling out the command “Open.” You eagerly obeyed, parting your lips and licking at his digits with vigor you didn't know you had. Tasting your own slick on his fingers, eyes fluttering close as you automatically sucked his fingers clean of yourself. “So good f’r me aren’t cha?” His low timber voice purrs out. 

“So obedient, girlie, hmm? You like being told what to do?” 

You turn your face away, trying to hide it away from his staring and teasing words. Zoro was having none of that though, wrenching your face back to meet with his by seizing hold of your chin and forcing you to turn back. “I want you to either look at me or look at when my cock finally sinks in you, understood?” He didn’t wait for an answer from you, forcing your head up and down into a nod with his own hand. “Good girl~” His tone verges between mocking and praiseful.

Ending his praise with another deep kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you mewl out in slight pain,  parting your lips enough for his tongue to slip in. His hand slips up to tug at your hair, as he utterly devours your lips and mouth. Leaving you no room or control to do as you please, your body surrendering itself to his whims. He leans back to observe your reaction, licking his lips at the sight with another strange growl emitting from his throat.

Your face flushed, eyes glossed over with desire, and lips still parted to let out small puffs of breaths. His grip still on the back of your head, stopped you from cowering away from his gaze, the feeling of a carnal desire coming off from Zoro. He presses his mouth to your neck hard, biting his canines in enough to the point of pain, soothing it with hot kisses afterwards. Gently petting your hair as you cried out and squirmed underneath him. “Hahhh.. fuck…I forgot the damn condom.” 

He gets off of you and looks around for his discarded shorts and rummage around the pockets to find a roll of condoms. Tearing one off and opening with his mouth, pulling out the rubber and aligning himself between your thighs once again, rolling the condom on his cock, hissing softly as it covers his sensitive tip. At this point, you caught your breath again, looking up at Zoro, hand motioning him to come closer. “Tch, so needy.” He rolled his eyes but his tone and demeanor was sort of gentle as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. Hovering his body right over yours, finally prepared, interlacing your fingers together as he goes to kiss your hand again. 

“Ready?” 

You look into his eye, in the man that you chose to take your virginity tonight. Tracing the outline of his pecs with your other hands as you squeezed the one that was interlaced with him. “I’m ready.” Your voice was wavering a little but maintained eye contact with Zoro all the way. He gives you what seems to be a genuine smile in return, kissing your hand one last time and bending down to engulf your lips in a passionate kiss. 

Pushing his hips forward as his thick cock tries to push itself past your folds. The tip barely made it inside, already making you gasp out and dig your nails in his shoulder and squeezed his hand holding yours tightly. “Shh, Shh, you’re doing so good… relax..” Zoro’s voice rasps out, sweat forming on his forehead as he tries to control himself from slamming all the way into you. Waiting for you to give a signal to go again, his lone eye watching every single movement from you. Looking for any sign of pain or discomfort.

You continue to squeeze his hand tightly, blinking away some tears as you steady yourself, feeling ready for more, you murmured a soft “Deeper, please…” Zoro groans out this time, his heart beating faster at how cute and needy you sounded, his cock twitching to go all the way in but he was a good escort. Taking his sweet time to make sure you were all stretched out and snug on his cock before he could ruin you. 

Inching deeper in your tight pussy bit by bit until he bottomed out. You felt like it reached all the way to your throat with all long and thick it was, catching your breath as you breathed out a shaky sigh. Grasping tightly to Zoro’s hand; “Deep breaths girlie, thats it, you’re doing so good, haaaah, fuck you’re so tight, clenching on me so hard already.” He uses his free hand to caress your cheek gently as lewd praises spill out from his lips. “Was your pussy always this slutty? Hmm, or do you like my cock that much? Heh, It’s going to be hard to fuck other guys when you can only think of me huh?”

“Just sh-shut up and fuck me already.” You faintly hiss out, getting a bit annoyed. “You talk too much, I paid you to use that mouth for something other than just talking, you know.” Zoro lets out a hearty laugh at that, showing off all his teeth once again, a dark gleam in his eye. His hand goes down to squeeze harshly at your chest then down further to press on below your navel right above where his cock was buried. Slowly pulling his cock out till only the tip was still inside; “Sorry could you repeat that? Didn’t quite hear you?”

“Zoro-aa-hah-AH!” You eyes flew wide open, arching your back off the bed as Zoro slams his whole length into you once more. Keeping the rhythm going, plunging in and out at a painfully slow pace, but it was enough to make you roll your eyes. Your hand lost its strength and was gradually slipping from Zoro’s but he grabbed you by the wrist and plop one of your fingers in his mouth, sensually rolling his tongue around the digit making you lose more sense until he abruptly bit down on it.   

Enough to draw blood and make your whole body jolt from the pain only to be hit with a wave of pleasure as his cock found its way to your sweet spot. Zoro sucking on your wounded finger, tongue roughly licking at the bite mark, lapping at the blood and indents. It felt weird, a painful kind of sting with each lap of his tongue that made you crave for more each time it was gone. Or maybe you were losing your mind with how his cock was still ramming it way into your cervix.

 “Ngaah-Hahh-Zorooo-fuck!” Moans and whimpers spill from your lips as your body surrenders itself to Zoro fully, his fangs making various bite marks on your arm now, his cock stretching you out fully, his hand pressing down on your stomach each time his cock reaches that area. You wanted so desperately to say that you wanted Zoro to go faster, however only drool and nonsensical babble came out of your mouth.  Your babbles mixed in with the sounds of Zoro’s grunts and growls as he started licking away at all the bloodied bite marks he made on your arm. 

His cat-like tongue sweeping and swirling on the bruises, small beads of blood dripping out of the wound quickly whisked away by the wet muscle. The corners of his lips and teeth were now stained red, not that Zoro cared heck he might have even loved the fact that he looked like a carnivore right now. Eating away at his prey bit by bit, devouring every aspect of your body, every whimper or moan from your lips, every twitch and shiver of your body, all caused by him. 

When Zoro gets down to your shoulder, you tilt your head to the side to meet his gaze. Pleading with your teary eyes for him to go harder, faster, anything from the agonizing sluggish pace he kept at currently. Zoro growls softly at your weeping face, wiping away your tears with his fingers, smudging some blood on your cheek in the process. “What's wrong, girlie?” he sounded genuine but with the way his lips were quirked up in a smirk he probably wasn't all that sincere. Especially how his hips  suddenly sputter to a complete stop halfway in. His cock twitching slightly inside of you, as you cried out some more tears. 

Clawing your nails into his biceps, lips out in a full pout as you barely manage blubber out some words; “Mo-more” “Zorooo” and “Please”. Your pitiful attempts at pleading were enough to make Zoro waver a little, actually being genuine this time when he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. You taste the copper tang from your own blood on your tongue as Zoro tilts your chin up to gain more access to your mouth. His other hand roaming to give some attention to your throbbing clit some much needed attention. 

You attempt to buck your hips up but with Zoro’s weight still pressing down on you it is a near impossible task. You only managed to make yourself seem more pitiful, as pitiful whines bubbled up from your throat, your thighs shaking and tensing around Zoro’s waist. “Seems like I got carried about with the biting again…” He murmured out quietly, after parting from your lips. You sent him a weak glare, slapping his bicep making him chuckle out in return. You slap him again. He returns the slap by giving you one on your clit. 

Pressing his tongue inside your mouth when you yelp at the sting of it, taking this moment to push his cock all the way in again. His thumb rubbing at your clit in small circles as Zoro starts to increase his pace. Along with increasing the force of his thrust, the slapping sound when your skin colliding with each other echoed so loudly in the hotel room, making your ear burn with embarrassment. Your cries and pleads were back to being swallowed up by Zoro’s tongue. He would let out occasional growls or heavy pants in between the small instances when he allowed you to breathe in air again. You felt your core tightening with white-hot pleasure, black spots appearing in your vision as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

Legs trembling and your pussy clenching down on Zoro’s length, making him increase his pace on both his thrusts and his thumb ministrations. “C’mon cum for me girlie, mmmf-fuck, cum for me.” he grunted out, slamming his hip in a particularly  mean thrust. That combined with his thick-voiced command was the final straw that pushed you over. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as your body spasms and thrash around the searing and burning amount of pleasure that you never felt before was almost too much for you to handle. 

Luckily Zoro wasn’t that mean, combing his hair through your hair as he ease you into it, softly speaking praises into the shell of your ear as his other arm placed itself on your back. Pushing you forward into a half bear hug, your body colliding with Zoro’s tightly, his arm pressing your chest against his, mixing your heart beats together. When your breathing lowers down to low pants and your body settles to small twitches here and there, only then does Zoro bring his arm back and slowly pull out. 

His own breathing low and heavy, his chest slowly rising and falling with each parted sigh. Sweat dripped from his forehead and glistened on his chest. He removes the condom with a groan, wrapping his hand around the base, looking down at you with a cloudy gaze. You wearily blink your eyes back open to ogle at the sight before his voice rings out to you. You strained your ears to listen to his request. “--you don’t mind if I cum on you right?” he was already stroking his cock as he was asking you for permission. Who were you to say no to this hunking beast of a man?

Still catching your breath, you nod at him, parting your legs out more and leaning your head back to watch Zoro jerk himself off right above you. The thick veins on his hand almost matched the ones on his pulsing cock. Your hole was clenching around nothing as you kept on leering at this sight, the smell of sweat and sin in the air, Zoro’s eye half-lidded staring down at you, his lips wet and smeared with your blood still. Low and rugged pants coming up from his throat as he squeezed your chest with his other hand, increasing the pressure on both hands as he soon reached his own climax. Spattering his cum across your chest in short spurts, a loud mix of a growl and a grunt escaped his lips as well. 

After a short pause, he wipes off some sweat from his face, a wide smirk plastered on his face. “Well? How was that for your first time, eh girlie? I think I deserve a 5-star rating.” He moved around until he was sitting by your side now, gently caressing your face with the hand he used to just jerk off with. You felt the sticky residue he was leaving your cheek. “Ugh! Zoro, don't use that hand to touch my face right now!” You smack his hand away with a grimace, propping yourself on your elbows. Hissing out in pain when the bite that Zoro left on there starts to bleed out a bit again. You send a glare Zoro’s way, he rubs the back of neck as he looks away from your glare, muttering out a “Whoops..” You smack him on the arm again; “I think you deserve a 1-star rating instead.” Zoro flinched at the smack but you knew that was mostly because of your words and not because your attack did any damage to him. You ran your fingers over the indentations of Zoro’s fangs in your skin, the small sting that came with each run thru sent shivers down your spine. You then hear and feel the bed creaking from beside you as Zoro sags his head down on your shoulder.

His arm loosely wrapping around your waist, his cheek nuzzling delicately against yours. This must be Zoro’s way of apologizing you thought silently, holding back a grin. You took some pity on the man and patted his head a bit just like a cat. He makes a small noise, akin to a real purr, your mind must be playing tricks on you or something. He plants mushy kisses on your cheek, descending down to your shoulder. Licking at any bruises or marks he left there as well, then going even further down to your arm. Stopping at every wound and kissing and licking at it.

Running his bristly tongue over the indents, it wasn’t soothing as you thought it would be, the prickle of pain with each lap of his tongue followed by a gentle kiss made your mind roll though. Maybe you liked feeling a bit of pain with pleasure? This was something new to you, as Zoro continues his apology, already halfway down your arm which was now covered in spit along with the bite marks and blood spots. Another shiver went down your spine as Zoro’s tongue pressed deeply into a particularly deep wound. The jolt of pain that came from it made you moan out a bit. 

Causing Zoro to stop mid-lick and look up at you with a curious glint in his eye. His lips curled up at the side; “Oh? What was that a moan, hmm, sweetheart?” “N-no…” You looked away from him, about to tug your arm away when his tongue came out again on the same spot. Pressing much harsher this time on the bite mark. You couldn’t hold back the throaty moan, closing your eyes instead and feeling the heat of shame light up your cheeks and ears. Zoro chuckles; “You should have told me that you liked this sort of thing, I would have marked you up much more.” Your cheeks burn a bit more at the comment, desire stirring up once again in your chest. 

“I didn’t really know I was into this sort of thing, alright? It’s all new to me… Anyway, are-are you going to leave now that we’re done?” Your voice cracked a bit at the end, as your mood instantly dampened the thought of Zoro leaving you. He raised up an eyebrow at you; “Leaving? You want to kick me out that badly?” His tone is light as he flicks your forehead with a finger. Kissing it right after to ease the small sting of pain. “And we’re not done yet. It seems like you want more, don’t cha?” He hums out, kissing the shell of your ear, his hand meeting in the middle of your thighs. 

Your body parting them open easily so his finger could slip in your pussy, plunging in out with the slick and wetness making lewd noises come out. You just started to grind your hips up when Zoro pulled his finger out and licked away the slick. Moving to the edge of the bed and beckoning you forward, patting his thigh with both hands. “Cm’ere.’ His cock was sitting up prettily between his muscular thighs, your heartbeat felt like it was skyrocketing as you slowly made your way over to him. His hands came to grab onto your waist as you threw your legs over the side of his thighs. 

His fingers digging in your soft flesh when he realizes something. “Shit…forget about the condoms again. Hold-” “Ah! Zoro, wait-” Your bend forward, throwing your arms around his neck, stopping him from getting up. “Can we skip the condom this time.. Please?” Your heart was pounding at this request but you really wanted to feel Zoro fully this time. “Shit, girlie. I’m not opposed to fucking raw but are you really sure about this?” He looks at you with his steel eye searching for any sign that you weren’t 100% sure about it, making you gulp nervously at the intensity of it. But you didn’t back down; not shying away from his gaze you answered back. “I am sure, I…I want to feel everything this time. I can handle it.” 

He stares at you for a couple more moments, a wide toothy smile taking over his face. His fangs seem sharper now for some reason as well. “Already getting addicted to my cock huh? I knew that you wouldn’t just be satisfied after one round. Mmm..you better be prepared, cause I’m not holding back this time..” He ends his statement by immediately biting down hard on your shoulder, puncturing his fangs in and drawing blood. His hands anchored itself on your waist, making sure you can’t squirm away. A choked whine leaves your lips, the searing pain of the bite makes your pussy quiver with need.

Zoro releases his fang from your shoulder, switching to sucking and lapping up the blood spilling out, his hands loosening its hold on you to swipe at you needy cunt. His fingers quickly drenched in your arousal, plunging in and scissoring his fingers. The feeling was nice but it wasn't enough for you. Tugging at Zoro’s hair with a whimper, blinking down at him thru your teary lashes. The sight made his cock jump up even more. He gulped down some of your blood and held it in his mouth so when he went in for the kiss, you could have a taste also.

Now, regardless if you actually wanted to drink down some of your blood was irrelevant as Zoro also took this time to spear you with his length. Bullying it up all the up to your cervix, done easily as your slick was still plentiful, nasty ‘plaps’ echoed loudly each time your hips slapped against each other. The unexpected thrusting made you moan, opening your mouth to let in the metallic liquid and Zoro’s saccharine tongue to wash over your taste buds. Almost choking on your own blood from how rough Zoro was bouncing you on his lap. 

‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’  “Zo-Zoro-Slow-Mmhh! Nggh!!”  ‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’  

Your pleads were taken away when Zoro bit down on your bottom lips cruelly. Drawing more blood out and licking and sucking at it sweetly the next moment. His muscular thighs spread apart as he kept on bouncing you up and down on his cock. His hands kneaded at the soft flesh of your ass, sometimes gripping so hard that his handprints were about to be imprinted on the skin. A quick slap on your ass, made you cry out, tilting your head back as tears fell down your cheek beautifully. 

A pitiful sniffle and whimper is all you could muster when Zoro grabs you by the chin to pull you back in. His fingers pressing on your tear-ridden cheeks to open your mouth for his greedy tongue. “Tongue out.” He growls, giving you another smack on the ass. You loll out your tongue quite obscenely, eyes half-lid and wet with tears. Zoro rewards your quick obedience by sucking on your tongue, his hand withdrawing from both sets of cheeks, going to wrap around your waist and under you. Planting his feet firmly on the ground so he could stand up with you still on his cock with ease. 

His muscle only twitches slightly as he picks you up, his mouth never once leaving yours. Your tongue being abused by his lips and teeth, going as far as to bite down on it. His own rough tongue coming to trail over the wound, going deeper in your throat later on as his cock was also still buried deep in your core. The bounce with each step he took, jostled his cock even more inside of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist to keep steady, even with his iron grip on your skin you were scared of slipping off. Not that Zoro would ever let you fall off, moving forward with you until your back reached the wall. 

Right where he wanted you, trapped between the hotel wall and a muscular wall of abs. With one last flick of his tongue on yours, he parts from your mouth, a nasty strand of salvia connected you two for a small moment. You suck in much needed air into your lungs, your chest heaving up and down and your thighs clenching together the moment Zoro bucks his hips up into you. A loud moan ripped itself from your throat. “Zorooooooo!” You whined out, more moans coming out from you. Your back hitting the wall with each thrust upwards of his hips, the pictures on the wall bouncing along with you. Almost falling off with how hard Zoro was fucking you. 

“O-Oh-hnggg-Zoro! Fu-Fuck!”

“You better quiet down or do you want the room next door to hear how much of a slut you are right now?” 

Zoro’s tutted at you but with the smirk on his face and how he kept thrusting into you without a care. The thumping on the wall grows louder in tandem with your moans and pants. A photo frame came crashing down on the ground but neither of you noticed it. Zoro grunts out near your ear, his tan skin flushed a delicious pink, he leans his head down a bit to bite down on your neck. Your nails stab into his shoulders, knuckles whites, your eyes and stomach squeezing as hot pleasure washes over you. Zoro gives you more bites, on your neck, collarbone, and shoulder. Never once losing the harsh pace he was giving you. 

‘Plaps’ ‘Thrust’ ‘Thrust’ “Hahhhhhh” ‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’

“Fuck….. I think I'm the one getting addicted to this pussy of yours, girlie.” Zoro sighs out, the flush on his face getting pinker. His mind was getting hazy as his cock drags itself along your walls, without the condom you both felt everything so much more. His thick throbbing veins rubbing against your walls with each push and pull, his fat tip hitting your spot so sweetly. The way you were clenching down on him, your juices spilling out so much, almost making his cock slip out if he wasn’t careful. “Ha-ahhhhhh, sweetheart… fu-fuck.” His hands press in a bit on your hips, pressing his forehead against your. “L-let me cum in you? Nghhhh.. Please let me mark you on the inside as well.” 

You didn't expect Zoro to plead for it, his eye glazed over with lust, licking his teeth clean of your blood while staring at you. His hot breath coming out in short and husky pants, you turn this man into a mess and you loved it. “I-I’m close too.. Let’s cum together.. Please.” You press your legs closer around his back, pulling him closer to you as you clenched down on his cock. Zoro pushes you against the wall even more, one arm grabbing the back of your head as he crashes his lips into yours. A growl emitting from his throat as his abs starts to tense up from the build up of his own release. 

HIs hips going at a extra hard pace now, you could swear that the entire hotel room was shaking from how hard he was fucking you. “C’mon sweetheart, Ha-ahh, give it to me..” Another growl came out of Zoro as he nipped at your bloodied and swollen lips. His hand tugging at your locks, hot puffs of air coming out from both of you. Your body shakes and clenches down even harder than your last orgasm. Grinding your whole body against Zoro’s as your back arch off the wall and collide with his chest. Zoro releasing his own thick rope of cum into you soon after, the sensation of his cream spilling itself hotly inside you, mixing in with your own juices, made you see stars in your vision. 

Zoro begins backing away from the wall, arms still wrapped around you as your body twitches as you calm down from your orgasm. Your head flopping down on Zoro's shoulder, your breath stuttering out, your body completely spent and tired. With no energy to even continue wrapping your legs around his waist, your legs dangle on the side now, but Zoro held you tight. Pacing his way over to the bed, you heard some shuffling and felt your body being moved about all over the place but soon you succumbed to sleep. Your eyes flutter closed as the last thing you see and hear is Zoro above you, murmuring out. “Sleep well, girlie…”

------

The morning lights filter through the curtains, landing directly on your face. You groan out, shifting your body the other way to get away from the light. The sound of quiet grunting can be heard once you settle back in again. You laid there for a short while, straining your ears to try to figure out what the noises could be and where it was coming from. Eventually your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to sit up fully and blink open your eyes to look around. Rubbing sleep from them with a yawn as your vision clears. 

What you found was Zoro on the ground doing one-handed push ups. Only wearing a pair of boxers as sweat trickles down his broad back. He soon stops as he notices you staring at him, giving him what you think was a wink as he stands up and stretches his arms backwards. “Mornin’ sweetheart. Took you long enough to wake up.” He steps over to the edge of the bed, looming over you. A hand coming down to pat you on the head twice, fluffing up your bed-head even more. “I still expect to get that 5-stars review, you know?” He chuckles out, seeing you try to pat down some hair that was sticking up. 

You only noticed now when Zoro went to the bathroom, that you got clothes on, the simple t-shirt and shorts that you packed before you came here. Zoro must have put them on you while you passed out after last night’s… activities. Speaking of that... You start to flush a rosy pink, as the memories of last night came flooding back. The bite marks on your skin pulsing with a mild ache, your thighs move with a new kind of soreness you never felt before. You flop back on the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug to your chest with a grumble. 

Zoro walked out of the bathroom back in his normal clothes, snorting softly at the sight before him. Bending down to your level and giving you a quick peck on the forehead as he brushes your hair back. “Don’t be mad at me alright? You asked for it last night, heh, practically begged for it.” He teases out, making you grumble and pout cutely, still leaning into the warmth of his hand. His hand goes down to cup your cheek, giving you a sweeter kiss on your lips that lasts for a while. But when he parts away from you, it felt like it wasn’t enough, making your heart ache a bit. 

“It’s a bit past noon.” He sighs out, his tone low. “I have places to be.” You swallowed back a lump in your throat. You knew that this was only a one night thing, he was an escort after all not your lover or anything like that. Still you couldn’t shake the feeling of sorrow in your heart watching Zoro get up to leave. Only giving him a small nod as you bury yourself back into the bed, clutching the pillow even tighter to your chest to try dull the ache there. You heard another sigh from Zoro and some rustling of paper. You peek over to find Zoro scribbling something down on the hotel notepad. Ripping the page off and giving it to you. “This is my personal phone number, since I know no other guy will be able to satisfy you like I did. Call me whenever you need me again or whatever.” He mumbled out the last part almost shyly. His head turned away from you but you can see the tips of his ears were pink. 

You take the paper, your heart leaping up to your throat in joy. Zoro doesn’t turn back to you as he walks away, too embarrassed to show you his blushing face so he just waves a goodbye and gives you a small; “Later, Y/N”. The door shuts behind him and now you’re left alone in the room once more. Your first thought was, ‘I wonder if Zoro is gonna get lost on his way to his next appointment again.’ and your second was, ‘Is it too soon if I call him again tomorrow…?’ 

Taglist: @baka-tsuki @malxoxo @saenora

[creeppostss]

Smoke Sesh

pairing; Jeff the killer / NB!reader

warnings; smoking, shotgunning, fluff with sexual references and not proofread :3

summary; jeff not so nicely barges in your room for a midnight smoke. You give in and smoke alongside him. Fluff but it gets semi-sexual. I wrote this at 1 in the morning and it was too long for me to add actual fucking. If you guys hype this up enough I’ll write a part two where they ACTUALLY fuck.

You were sitting in your room, minding your own business. It was a late night, probably around midnight. The whole house was silent, everyone asleep in their own rooms. Or so you thought. The knock at your door startled you, making you jump and look over to the door. You stayed silent, and so did the person on the other side. But you sighed and decided to get up. You should’ve pretended to be asleep.

Upon opening your door you saw the last person you wanted to see this late at night. Jeffrey. You had honestly debated slamming the door in his face and going back to your bed, but something felt different. He looked calmer, nicer. He seemed it too. Since you opened your door he hasn’t tried to make a single snide comment. Surprising for him. Still, you didn’t let him in quite yet, leaning against the doorframe and glaring.

“Can I help you?” Your words sounded more bitter than you intended, grimacing internally. He did not answer you, instead going to push past you into your room. He took position on your bed, sitting upright. He looked at you and patted a spot on the bed beside him, beckoning you over. You groan, close your door, and move to sit beside him.

Once you’ve sat down, he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He pulls two, avoiding the one cigarette in the pack that he’s flipped upside-down. He calls it his lucky. Smokes it last. Jeff discarded the box of cigarettes onto your bed, instead digging back in his pocket to find a lighter. It was something Nina had given him, so it was pink and flashy. He lit both cigarettes and passed you yours, then took his in between his lips.

It wasn’t often that you two were caught together. You mostly spent time alone. Arguing. Bickering. But that wasn’t special to you. He argued with everyone. So seeing him so quiet made you arguably more tense than if he was running his mouth. You finally brought the cigarette up to your mouth, inhaling deeply and holding it for a moment before the release. You had to try to not cough. You hadn’t smoked in a while. You figured now was a good time to ask what he had come for.

“Did you want something? You don’t usually come looking for me, y’know. Need a favor?”

Jeff grunted and took another deep inhale of his own cigarette. You were beginning to regret letting him light them in here, your room would be sticky and smokey after this. Jeff breathed out his smoke and looked towards you, some kind of look on his face. It was a mix between smugness and something you couldn’t quite read.

“Yeah, actually. Jack is crashing in my room tonight. He said he had a surgical experiment go wrong in his room. Said he couldn’t sleep there tonight. Big mess.” He cut off his own sentence, sticking his cigarette back between his lips. This allowed you a moment to speak.

“So what are you saying? You want to sleep here? In my room? In my bed?” You practically laughed at the idea, a look of disbelief and some kind of humor painted across your face. Jeff just nodded. Oh.

“Oh. Well, fuck. I mean-…I guess? That’s fine. Just for tonight though, right?”

He nodded softly again. Jeff glanced at his shortening cigarette, then back at you. It seemed like some kind of switch flipped on in his brain. He leaned in closer to you, making you lean backwards uncomfortably.

“I wanna try something.” And he didn’t let you respond. He took a fat drag of his cigarette, not inhaling. Jeff reached up and cupped your cheek, sticking his thumb in your mouth to open it up. Then he pushed close to your face, almost mouth to mouth. You were honestly turning a little red. Much to your dismay. Finally, the tension eased as he opened his mouth and allowed his tongue to push the smoke out of his mouth, letting it be inhaled by you.

The secondhand smoke was much harsher than the initial drag would be, so you only inhaled about half before you had to pull away to cough in the other direction. It burned your lungs, your throat feeling as if it would jump out of your body. Your eyes watered and made tears pill at the corners, threatening to spill if you coughed any more.

Jeff cocked his head and stared at you. He felt pity, disgust, many things. But there was something else. Admiration. After all, you still allowed him to shotgun for you even when you probably knew you couldn’t hold it. His lip pulled up on one side into some sort of half smile as he leaned forward to interrupt your coughing with a soft kiss.

You of course, didn’t expect that. But you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t even tell if you wanted to. When he saw that you weren’t going to pull away, he allowed himself to deepen the kiss. Your entire figure softened and your hands relaxed, not remembering you had a lit cigarette in your hand. The tip of your cigarette touched your opposite arm, making you yelp and pull back while you glanced down at the residual red mark. Jeff frowned at you and took your cigarette out of your hand, snuffing it out on his own arm.

You watched him press it against his white skin, the burn turning a small portion red. You looked up at him, staring with an expression that screamed “Why the fuck would you do that.” He just looked at you and shrugged gently, smiling softly.

“We match.” Jeff discarded both cigarette butts to the the table that sat beside your bed, careful to not allow either of the searing hot tips touch your wooden table. He was being kind and it was strange. Maybe it was just because he was late, maybe he was high. God knows. Whatever it was, it was nice.

He looked back at you with some kind of light in his eyes, the most that you’ve seen since you’ve been stuck up in this “mansion”. It made you want to kiss him again. So that’s what you did. You slid your hands up his face and laid them to rest on his cheeks, careful not to touch his scars. You liked them just fine, you just knew he was insecure about them.

You looked at him for reassurance, and he leaned in and allowed you to kiss him. As you kissed him, your hands moved back and slipped into his hair. The feeling of soft, yet greasy hair filled your touch. His scent was something of smoke and musk. It was attractive. Your hands began to unconsciously play with his hair, almost roughly coiling into it. He grunted softly and repaid the favor, his hands finding their way into your soft locks. He tugged softly which made you moan into the tender kiss.

Jeff pushed you back into the bed and positioned himself above you, in between your legs. The makeout session began to get more heated and rough, the hands in each others hair gripping more tightly and more precisely. There was meaning in this kiss now. Something more than a late night fling. It was filled with passion and comfort. But that wasn’t enough.

You bit Jeff’s lower lip which made him groan, biting back at yours harder. Your breath was hitching now, heart rate beginning to elevate. Jeffrey was the first one to pull away from the kiss, and his breathing matched yours. Quickened. He licked his lips and looked down at your neck, immediately going down to press sloppy kisses and licks to the sensitive area. You shuddered and moaned under your breath, wrapping your legs around Jeff’s torso.

It was a bit of a funny angle since he was above you, but you didn’t care. You felt so good, so right. Nothing else mattered. The tenderness was continued for only a short period of time. The gentle kisses ended as he bit down into your neck, beginning to suck a deep bruise into the skin. Your legs tightened around his waist as you muttered his name, nails clawing at the back of his shirt.

How badly you wanted more. You had been deprived of this contact for so long that even this had your brain powered into overdrive. How badly you wanted to beg him, please, please, more. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to risk the chance of losing this connection you already had. So you bit your lip and kept the silence.

Jeff sucked at least three hickeys into your tender skin, pulling back and looking down at his handiwork. You could practically hear his heartbeat. It was fast, faster than yours. He was panting too, whether it be from arousal or lack of oxygen from sucking at your neck for so long was a mystery. But he didn’t progress. You knew he wanted to, and you wanted to as well. But you both knew that it was better to stop now before you got in too deep.

He wriggled himself free from your legs and laid down beside you. You both stared at the ceiling, but you moved first, flipping to lay on your side, facing away from him. You could hear a noise of displeasure from him, but then you felt the bed move. You waited patiently for something to happen, and you got what you wanted. He had moved so he could spoon you, arm going to wrap around your waist in a hug.

You knew this wouldn’t last. So you took it in while you could now. Even if he had just got you so pent up. And you could feel he was too, his more than half hard boner prodding into your ass. Maybe you’d help him with that later. But for now you relished in the feeling of being held.

You fell asleep first. Jeff just made sure you stayed asleep. Once he was absolutely sure you wouldn’t wake up, he pressed a kiss to the back of your head before cuddling closer to your warm body, falling asleep in the comfort of your bed.

[oursecretways]

Hello!! ☺️

Could I please get #7 with Lee Know 💕

No pressure at all!

7. He calms you down while you're having a panic attack

idol!Lee Know × fem!Reader note(s): ahh of course lovely, hope you enjoy it, I really tried ngl lmao😭 I just love writing gentle and caring Minho content, he can be a bully, but we all know he is there to help anyone he loves 😌 hope you enjoy it ♥ it became a two parter because apparently you can only have so much characters in one tumblr post it is a two parter genre(s): fluff, angst word count: 1.1K (the two part together) warning(s): reader having a panic attack, strong language, toxic work environment being called “baby” and “love” a lot

masterlist ║ invisible ask game ║ part two

It was the most typical day at work: working your ass off so someone higher above, or some older colleague can steal your work, but what made it even worse that your work bestie can’t be here, since she went overseas with her family… “Lucky her” you think to yourself, as you come back from your lunch break, which you wished you wouldn’t have done. Looking back you should’ve said that you aren’t feeling well — which to some degree was true, you know one of those days when everything seems suffocating, much, much darker, and one ugly tone, and you break… yeah it was one of those days. As you sat down at your desk to continue your market research needed for your company new product. Man, you wished you would do what actually excited you: creating the product itself based on the research, but you are only a researcher, which is way more stressful than you like to admit to anyone, especially your boyfriend Minho. You two met him when you first moved to Korea — because you were always fascinated by the countries’ culture, and it was a childhood dream of yours to move to Seoul. Unbeknownst to you, that meant that you meet with a K-pop idol that happened to be your ideal man. When the two of you met, you did not know much about Stray Kids, only heard their song called Hellavator. But now you are a fully pledged STAY, teasing Minho that Ji is your bias every time you get the chance — even tho he secretly agrees and tells you that Han is his bias too.

Once everyone got back to their respected desk, your boss called you into his office, “Y/N, please come, I need to talk to you.” You already know it probably won’t be a talk of a lifetime, especially that he has been even a bigger prick than usual, because your department haven’t been meeting the monthly quota. Making Mr. Whang’s life harder than he would want it to be. “Yes sir? How can help you?” you asked sincerely. You felt your throat dry, and tried to focus on your breathing, believing it to be a little nervousness. The nicer you can act, the easier he would let you off… at least that was your oh so naive thought. He made sure that you know where is your place: six feet under him. He made you feel like you should crawl, especially that you accused his great friend, an honest, hardworking colleague, of stealing your assignment. And you tried to explain it to him that there has been injustice, because he did, in fact, steal your presentation that you have put countless all-nighters in, but he just kept on going. Even scolded you about being so uptight and a prude, how women nowadays suck “Woman nowadays don’t get put into their place well enough. I am sure if I would be that boyfriend of yours, I would teach you to know where is your place.” After that sentence, your view started spinning, as you became very dizzy. The autopilot mode been turned on, and you were agreeing with all he said, but in reality you couldn’t been further away from reality. “You can go, don’t bother for today, you are seemingly useless, not even saying what you think, all you can do is agree, truly useless. I don’t even know how they can hire an intern like you.” You felt as if your chest closing up by the time you got out of his office. If anyone tried to call your name, you couldn’t hear it with your heart beating loudly in your ear. Without noticing, you went straight to the dance studio, where your boyfriend of many years tries his best to come up with new choreography for their comeback. You knew he is alone because Hyunjin is on a fashion show and Felix is in the studio recording his parts.

[alessiasfreckles]

Lonely

Lucy Bronze & reader (platonic)

after moving to barcelona, everything is hard; the language, your anxiety, the loneliness. after a particularly rough day, lucy finds you crying in the changing room and is determined to help.

A/N: based off of this ask! i tried to make it different enough to Fitting In but still along the same vein, i hope you like it ✨

----------------

The sun was shining, it was a beautiful (albeit a bit cold) day in Barcelona, you were playing for one of the best women’s football teams in the world, and everything was perfect.

Well, it should have been. You knew that. Really, there was no reason for you to be anything but happy. When friends and family back home asked you how you were getting on, you told them about the gorgeous scenery, the weather, and how much fun you were having. It wasn’t all a lie, the scenery really was incredible, and the weather was nicer than it was in England, at the very least. 

But, if you were being honest? Things were really fucking hard. 

You were trying to learn Spanish, really, you were, but languages had never been your thing. Everyone had told you before you left that “it’ll be easy, once you’re surrounded by it!”. Bullshit. You went through the day understanding single words and phrases here and there, but for the most part, it was like your brain just shut off when people started talking. 

The language issue, of course, didn’t exactly help your social situation. You’d always found it hard to make friends, even in your native language. Trying to do it in a whole other language felt like an impossible task. The team tried to be welcoming, of course, but most of the time your brain was too exhausted from trying to keep up with the language for you to socialise. The other international players helped a little and would translate things for you sometimes, but you were the newest recruit and everyone else’s Spanish was miles better than yours. You could tell that the other players were making an effort to speak Spanish, some even learning Catalan, and you didn’t want to be the stereotypical English speaking person who couldn’t be bothered to speak the language of the country they were in. So, when everyone would burst out laughing at something Aitana said, you laughed along, hoping no one would catch on to the fact that you hadn’t understood it. 

You had hoped to become friends with Lucy and Keira, thinking that it would be nice to have at least a couple other English players to talk to, but they seemed so settled in their lives here that you felt like you were intruding. Lucy spent a lot of time with the Spanish girls and seemed to talk Spanish, or at least a mix of Spanish and English, most of the time, and Keira did the same. Even when you had the opportunity to talk to them, your social anxiety would flare up, and you’d find yourself overthinking and debating what to say for so long that by the time you’d decided, the moment had passed. 

So, you kept to yourself, mostly. You spent a lot of time observing your teammates, their interactions with one another. Trying to figure out how you could interact with them, then losing the courage to do so. 

Your teammates felt bad, they could tell that you hadn’t settled in and that you were the outsider of the group, but with so much training and all of the games the team had, it was all too easy to forget about everything outside of football.

That’s how, on that beautiful day in Barcelona, after a particularly tough training session, you found yourself crying in an empty changing room. You’d waited until everyone went home, stalling and saying you wanted to run a few more laps. Once the changing room was empty, you collapsed on a bench, staring into space, not even aware of the tears beginning to stream down your face. You were so tired of having to try so hard all the time, and if you were honest, you were really lonely. 

The door to the changing room bangs open, making you jump, and you look up to see Lucy standing there carrying a box of towels. The look of surprise on her face quickly changes to one of concern when she realises you’re crying, as you quickly try to wipe away your tears, white-hot embarrassment flooding your body.

“Woah, y/n, are you okay? What’s wrong, do you need me to get someone?” Lucy asks, putting the box on the bench closest to her. She stays by the door, looking like she’s not sure whether to come closer and comfort you or to leave to get help.

“Um, no, it’s okay, I’m okay,” you say, sniffing a little and laughing awkwardly. “I’m fine, seriously. Don’t worry about it.”

The brunette raises an eyebrow as she comes closer and lets the door swing shut. “Yeah, right, pull the other one. Clearly something’s not okay, or else you wouldn’t be sat here, crying, alone.”

“Yeah, I guess you got me there,” you smile weakly. “But really, it’s okay. It’s nothing.”

“If it’s upsetting you, it’s not nothing,” she says firmly, sitting down next to you. “What’s going on?”

You shrug, not wanting to burden her with your problems and not sure where to start. “It’s just a lot, sometimes, y’know?”

She nods sympathetically. “The language?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m trying, I really am, but it’s just so hard, and I don’t know, maybe I’m not trying hard enough, but I am trying, really-”

“Hey,” she interrupts you, placing a hand on your back. “It’s okay. It is hard. Everyone can see that you’re trying.”

“Really?” you say, doubt clouding your mind. “Because I feel like I understand way less than everyone thinks I do. Most of the time I’m just copying other people’s reactions, or nodding along.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I did that at first, too. It gets easier after a while, I promise.”

“I’m not sure it will. I don’t-”, you start, breaking off as you struggle to figure out what you wanted to say. “I don’t know how to do a lot of social stuff. Talking to people. I can’t even handle it in English most of the time, to be honest. I feel like even without the language problem, there’s the me problem.”

She lets out a laugh at that, but it’s not a mean one. “What do you mean, a you problem?”

“The me problem,” you explain. “I feel like I’m like, an alien or something. I don’t know how to behave, how to be a real human like the rest of you.” 

At that, she puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you to be facing her. “Y/n,” she says, a serious look on her face. “You’re a real human.”

“No, I know that I’m a real human,” you roll your eyes, letting out a small giggle. Lucy smiles, glad to have made you laugh. “I just don’t feel like it sometimes. I don’t know how to interact with people. Like, what do people talk about? What do people do when they’re hanging out? It was fine with my friends back home, because we’ve known each other forever, they know what I’m like and I know what they’re like. But here, it’s all so… different.”

Lucy stands, holding out a hand to you. When you take it she pulls you up, a determined look on her face. “Right, well, it sounds like we have to get you feeling more comfortable here. So, you’re going to come back to my place, we’re going to play something on the Playstation or watch something on TV, and tonight a couple of the girls are coming over. But only a couple, and I’ll tell them that we’re having an English night, no speaking Spanish allowed, alright?”

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I don’t want to be a bother-” you start, but she quickly cuts you off.

“Nonsense!” she says, swinging an arm around your shoulder. “We look out for each other on this team. You’re a part of the team, y/n. So we’ll look out for you too. Got it?”

You nod, feeling nervous but excited, even hopeful. 

And she was right. It ended up being one of the best evenings you’d had in a long time, and it wasn’t long before you started to feel like you really were not just a part of the team, but a part of the family. “English” nights even became a regular thing, the Spanish and other international players eager for a chance to practise their English even more (not that they had to, it seemed like they were all basically fluent). Lucy and Keira tried to help you with the language, giving you their tips. Honestly? Their tips weren’t much help, and it was still pretty hard. But as difficult as it was, you had to admit that, slowly but surely, it was all getting easier, especially with friends by your side.

[cumsuga]

Grey Areas

taehyung x fem!reader

genre. implied smut, fluff, angst, romance, non-idol!au, twin!taehyung, BIL!taehyung, widowedmother!reader

Your husband is dead, now you're trying to avoid the man that looks exactly like him. The only problem with that is trauma bonds people, sometimes in more ways than one 

warnings: spouse in the military, death of a spouse, mentions of decapitation, sleeping with your brother-in-law, grief, implied unprotected sex (Be safe and be smart; please use condoms), infidelity, smoking, light drinking, taehyung may or may not be in love with his sister-in-law aka reader, you're a mama (no drama)

word count: 5k

18+ (Minors DNI)

A/n: First and foremost, thank you, @vintagedtae and @cxffee-addxct, for testing/proofreading; if I could give you two kisses, I would! I really needed the feedback. I don't know if I will make this a series because it differs from anything I've ever written, but I really like it. If anyone has seen the movie Brothers, it inspired it. I really hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoy Twin Taehyung! Thank you all for reading and interacting with it. Please like and reblog! 💜

On January 30th, 2023, you received a knock on your door that would alter your life forever. 

You met your husband when you were ten years old. He was sweet and gentle, and you knew you would get married when you two got older. When you turned 18, he joined the military as a combat medic. He would always tell you he wanted to be a real-life superhero. At 22, he asked you to marry him. It was a beautiful beachside wedding. At 23, you gave birth to your son; you never saw yourself as a mother, and sure, Azra was a handful, but you were happy. By 25, you were a widow, watching as they lowered your husband into the ground, holding your crying son. 

The date was February 14th, the day he was supposed to come home, but you didn’t think it would be in a casket. You weren’t allowed to see your husband one last time. You were told they had gone out on a medevac mission when their helicopter was shot down. In nicer words, they told you your husband was decapitated, and they never found his head. And that was the image you would have to live with forever. The image of your decapitated husband never coming home. 

On the day of the funeral, his family showed you and your son so much compassion. His older twin brother, Taehyung, held your hand as he was lowered into the earth. Everyone expected you to be a mess, but no one knew that you and your husband prepared for this.  He talked about it often to desensitize you. While his dying in combat was always a possibility, you never thought in a million years that what you two spoke about in private would become a reality. So while internally you were destroyed, on the outside, you were stoic, unphased even.

After the repass, you watch quietly as everyone leaves. The only person who stayed was Taehyung. He told you he stayed to help you and that it was customary for someone from the family to stay with the widow while she grieves. Since he had no female siblings, his mother asked Taehyung to stay. 

“Hey, why don’t you go lay down?” he asks, taking a sleeping Azra from you. You just look at him, the dark circles under your eyes prominent. “Okay, I’m going to put him in the nursery, and I’ll be right back.”

It was silent when he walked away. Quiet enough for you to finally hear your thoughts. The inner turmoil is finally getting to you, and at this point, you are far too tired to hold it in anymore. So you let it out, sobbing loudly into the chaise. When Taehyung hears you, he bolts, the need to comfort you overwhelming him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay,” he says softly, cradling you in his arms. You pound your fists into his chest, angry at the world for taking your person. Eventually, you lose the energy to continue, balling your fists into his shirt. After what seemed like forever, you passed out in Taehyung’s arms.

Taehyung sighs in relief. What did he know about comforting anyone, let alone his younger brother's widow? What was he supposed to do to help you? Nothing he could say would ever bring him back, and telling you everything would be okay would only comfort you for so long. And who would comfort him? He lost his best friend since birth. He wasn’t like you, though. He never kept it bottled up. When you called to let him know, he dropped to his knees, sobbing loudly into the receiver before hanging up. He cried every day leading up to the funeral and even at the funeral, but no one told him that they were sorry for his loss. They only focused on you and his mother, but what about him? What about how he felt? He lost his identical twin brother, someone he spent every day with for 18 years. He had always held a little resentment for you for stealing his best friend, but right now, he loathes you. You weren't the only one hurting. He didn’t even want to stay here with you while you grieve. He begged his mom not to make him but was met with a slap to the face.

Nonetheless, he picks you up gently and carries you to your room. He sets you down just as gently as if you would break if he weren’t careful. He grabs the blanket at the bottom of your bed and covers you with it, tucking you in. He stands over you, admiring you briefly. He hated you for many things, and one of them was for being so pretty. He pushes the thought away, too inappropriate considering what is going on, before turning to leave. 

“Sujin?” you call out to him. Your dreams came true. He came back to you, “Come back to bed, don’t leave me again.”

“I’m not Su-” he can't finish the sentence. You won’t let him. You desperately want it to be your husband. You know deep down it isn’t him, but lying to yourself will help with the giant hole you have in your chest right now. 

“Please, Sujin… I’m scared.” it comes out so weak and pathetic that it genuinely pains Taehyung to hear. His heart breaks for you, the hatred he had for you dissipating. But he still doesn’t turn to face you,  so you plead for him again.

“Close your eyes…” he says softly. Taehyung decides to do this for you just once. He knew that it would hurt you more if he just walked away. It would hurt him just as much to pretend to be his brother, but he just wanted you to sleep. “Tell me when they’re closed.”

You tell him, and he walks slowly to the bed. He cups your cheek and runs his thumb against it softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…” You lean into his touch, and he joins you on the bed. “Let’s go to sleep.”

Taehyung takes you in his arms once more on this terrible day. You bury your head into his chest, and he strokes your hair. He swears he felt you kiss his collarbone, but he chalks it up to you being delirious. He wants to hate you so bad, but to hate you would be to hate a piece of his brother. He wants to get up and leave you to wallow in your sadness, but he knows that isn’t what Sujin would want. Taehyung hasn’t felt so conflicted in his life, but what he is sure of is that seeing you call out for your husband hurt him more than he expected. And what he was absolutely sure of was that he would never let you cry like that again.

When you woke up, you felt arms wrapped around you. So you turned slowly to see who it was, and the face you saw excited you, so you cupped his cheek softly. You moved to peck him gently and realized who it was before you did. You knew it wasn’t Sujin because of the small moles under his eye and on his nose. So you jolt up, startling Taehyung in the process.

“What hell are you doing in my bed?!” you move away from him quickly. Taehyung is rubbing his eyes, looking around at where he is.

“Where am I?” he seems confused about where he is and who you are.

“Taehyung, why are you in my bed, let alone in my room.” You stand up and make a lot of distance between the two of you. You turn to face the door. The last person you want to look at is Taehyung. Right now, you hate the fact that he looks exactly like Taejoon. It makes you physically ill to look at Taehyung. But before you can dwell on that for too long, Azra is crying. You look towards the nursery sighing. "Anyways, get out of my room and go home.”

He nods and gets out of bed, “I’ll get the baby. Just rest, please.” He’s noticed you refuse to look at him, and he can’t be sure why, but it hurts him a little.

“No! No, I want you to leave, Taehyung. Please.” he moved back into your line of sight, so you turn away and walk to the nursery. Taehyung follows behind you.

“I can leave you alone, but I’m not going. I told my mom I’d stay for the next couple of weeks.” He takes Azra from you, and you move to take him back but are immediately deterred by his face. “You know you’re going to have to look at me eventually. I’m his uncle, I’ll be around…”

You sigh in defeat but still don't look up, “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how hard it is to look at you, Taehyung. It hurts... And I don’t want to cry anymore.”

He scoffs, “You’re not serious, right? I don’t understand? I have to do is look in the fucking mirror and be reminded of my brother. Someone I shared a womb and room with almost my entire life. You’re not the only person hurting.” he leaves with Azra to the kitchen, and you're just standing there. You want to yell at him, but you don’t want to upset the baby.

You knew part of you wished that Taehyung was Sujin and that life was normal. You thought it was unfair that you had to go through this. But he’s right; he isn't the only one hurting. You’d been so selfish with your grief that you weren’t allowing anyone to join you in it. And he was also right that you’d have to look at him eventually, but you'd deal with that when the time was right. Right now, all you want is your son.

“Can I have Azra, please?” Azra coos out a little mama when he sees you, and Taehyung looks over at you and then back to Azra as he feeds him his banana baby food. 

“Um, we're having nom-noms right now. Right, Azzy? We’re having nom noms?” Azra giggles, repeating the word, and you wish you could be in his shoes. Living his baby life with no concept of death. You stared at him and realized one day, you’d have to tell him about his father, and tears welled up in your eyes.

“Taehyung, I don’t need your help. I need you to leave, please. You can come over later, but I want to be alone now.” You take Azra out of his high chair and walk towards the den. “We can discuss why you were in my bed after I take Azra to daycare, then you can come with me to pick up some of Sujin’s things from the base. Come back in 2 hours, I’ll be ready then…”

Taehyung reluctantly agrees. He’s scared to leave you, in all honesty. Sujin had mentioned to him about your past struggles with your mental health, but he didn't want to come off as he couldn’t trust you. He wanted you to know he understood what you were going through and was there for you and Azra. 

You watch through the curtains as Taehyung pulls out of the driveway and drives off into the distance. You turn back to the living room and look around. You feel… empty. You knew that grief never grows smaller with time and that life grows around grief. It was such a cliche analogy, and it helped you when your grandmother died, but this was different. You and Sujin talked about getting old and grey together. About watching Azra graduate high school and college, get married, and have children. Now, it was just you, no Sujin, to help with the woes of parenting. You, at 25, are a widowed mom of one. You’re going to miss hearing the sound of him breathing when you lay your head on his chest. You’re going to miss the way he kissed you, held you, and made love to you. You would miss the way he would quote Napoleon Dynamite at the most random times. You were going to miss him. Plain and simple. You wish you had time to grieve but couldn’t because you had responsibilities. So you pushed yourself to keep going because of Azra.

About 2 hours later, you pull into your driveway, returning home from taking the baby to daycare. Taehyung is already there, waiting outside, smoking a cigarette. The feeling of annoyance was brewing inside you. But then you push the feeling away because how could you be annoyed with someone just trying to do the same thing you are; grieve. So you get out of the car and join him on the stoop. “Why are you waiting outside? You know where the house key is. It’s the middle of fall; it's cold.”

“I didn’t want to be reminded of him right away.” he takes a drag, handing you a coffee he picked up on the way back to the house, which you happily accept. “Your house smells like him still. It’s weird.”

You nod; he’s not wrong. It does smell like him, but you like that. You didn’t want to forget that smell. “Yeah, I know. It is kinda weird, isn’t it.” you chuckle softly. He smiles at you, and you meet his eyes finally. You feel something weird, something that makes you blush. He looks away quickly, taking another drag of his cigarette as he stands before flicking it. “Let’s go get my brother’s shit.”

An hour later, you finally leave base with the bit of stuff your husband left behind and some paperwork explaining how your benefits will now work. You don’t even care about that stuff, especially because this wasn’t how life was supposed to be going for you. You get back in the car and give Taehyung the box. “I have to go meet with a lawyer about his will. I need a witness so they can open it. Would you like to come?” He nods, and you drive off.

“So why were you in my bed?” you ask, looking over to see his cheeks are now rosy.

“Well, after you passed out from crying, I went to put you in bed and..” he looks worried; he doesn’t want to embarrass you. 

“And???” you press. 

“And…” He sighs, “And when I went to leave… You confused me with Su, and I didn’t have the heart to stop you, so I held you until you fell asleep. However, anytime I moved, you’d grip me tighter, so I fell asleep with you…” He rubs the back of his head, and you know he’s just as embarrassed as you are. “I know it was inappropriate, but you wouldn’t let me leave..”

“Oh..” the silence that follows is extremely awkward. “Well, thank you for staying, I guess..”

“Yeah, don’t mention it. Literally.” He chuckles. 

The drive to the law office is quiet and gives you time to think about what his will could say. It’s strange, though, because he never told you about it. You just assumed when he died that everything would go to you and Azra by default, but knowing he had a will scared you. Because what could he possibly have to say?

“We’re here..” you don’t move, not even to unbuckle yourself. Your hands are gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles are turning white. Your heart feels like it’s going to explode. Taehyung takes your hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

“Calm down, nothing can get worse. I know my brother. He’d never do anything to hurt you.” You wished it soothed you to hear those words, but his brother had done something to hurt you. Of course, it wasn't intentional, but it hurt nonetheless.

“Taehyung, your brother has done a lot to hurt me. None of them like this, though. This one he can’t fix with flowers and chocolates.” you say, half giggling, the other half getting choked up.

“Listen, I know this seems like the end of the world, and trust me, it sure as fuck feels like it. But let’s be realistic. You’ll eventually grow to deal with the loss of my brother. You’ll move on with your life, find some awesome guy, and fall in love with him. You’ll probably even get remarried. Realistically, of course.” you just look at him. The way he could say the most asinine shit you’ve ever heard honestly pissed you off.

“Why the fuck would you say that to me right now? I just buried him yesterday. Are you dumb? Please just shut the fuck up until I tell you to talk.” You finally move to get out of the car, slamming the door behind you and mumbling about how much of an idiot he was.

But that was the thing; Taehyung wasn’t stupid. He just says ridiculous shit. In fact, Taehyung graduated cum laude from Stanford, which is why you can’t understand why he doesn't think before he talks. 

He sits in the car briefly before coming out and following closely behind you. You two walk into the law office. The receptionist says she’s expecting you and leads you to a small conference room. “I’m nervous…” you sigh, fidgeting.

Before long, a tall, tan-skinned man walked in. He explained the legal jargon and then allowed you and Taehyung time to read over the will. But that's the thing: It wasn’t a will; it was more like letters to people in his life. You found the page for Taehyung and handed it to him. It wasn’t long before you heard sniffling coming from him. You smiled at him. You thought it was sweet how vulnerable he could be.

One page was dedicated to you, telling you all the passwords to his socials and bank accounts, where he had hidden money for Azra, and that he was sorry, but that was all. Nothing else was there. No, I love you, no, I’ll see you again someday, nothing. It was like all you were to him was a vessel to carry and care for his child. To say you were hurt was a complete understatement. But before you could take in the reality of what was happening, you found a page for a woman named Natalie. It describes how much he cared for her but also how much he regretted cheating on you while you were pregnant. He went on to tell her about the life he had imagined with her during their affair, but when you gave birth, it gave him a new meaning in your marriage and that he was sorry they ever got involved. He left her a small amount of money; it wasn’t said for what, only that she would understand what it was for. You only knew of one Natalie; you all went to high school together, but the last you heard, she moved to Los Angeles and hadn’t been back since. There was no way. This had to be Sujin’s idea of a joke. There was no other explanation.

You wanted to know when he even had time to cheat? If he wasn’t at work, he was with you. You try to think of any time he was not with you, but then you remember that he started going to the gym more often during your pregnancy. You thought nothing of it. He was in the military, for god sake. And you held on to that notion until you spotted her walking into the office.

“Hey, what does yours say? Mine tells me to take care of you and Az, and he finally admitted he broke my Donatello figure when we were younger. Plus some other stuff, but that's private.” He chuckles. He must’ve noticed your eyes glazed over because he waved his hand in front of your face. “Helloooo, anyone home?”

“He cheated..” is all you could squeak out. It’s almost inaudible.

 Taehyung doesn’t want to believe that you just said, “What? How do you know that? Let me see.” he snatches the papers from your hands and reads them repeatedly. “No way, Joon would never do that.”

“He did, and she’s here. The blonde woman you see in the lobby. Thats her… I don’t think she knows I’m here, nor was I even supposed to read that. I don’t think he meant to put it in there.” You both sit there in silence; before you know it, you’re storming into the lobby.

She looked shocked to see you, like she didn't understand what you were doing there. “y/n, what’re you doing here?”

“What the fuck do you mean what am I doing here? What are you doing here?” You scoff. You can’t believe this lady. She has the nerve to question you like you’re the mistress. So, you do the most logical thing you could do in any law office. You slap the shit out of her. “So you like fucking married men while their wives are at home caring for their children? Huh? Huh? ANSWER ME!”

She looks terrified and confused, clutching her now red cheek. “Married. He told me you two were divorced and that he only wore his ring to keep appearances with his parents.”

“Oh please, you can’t be that fucking stupid. YOU WENT TO FUCKING BERKLEY! You knew; don’t play dumb with me!” You are furious and yelling so loud a crowd is starting to gather. Taehyung comes up behind you, trying to calm you so he can get you outside, but you’re struggling in his grip. “HEY EVERYONE, HIDE YOUR HUSBANDS NATALIE STARK LIKES TO FUCK MARRIED MEN. NO, LET ME GO TAEHYUNG!”

“Nope, it’s time to go,” he says, flinging you over his shoulder.

Taehyung finally got you into the parking lot, but you still weren’t calm. He didn’t know what to do or say, so he lit a cigarette and handed it to you. “Here, it helps with the stress.”

You take it. You hadn’t smoked a cigarette in almost two years, choosing to quit right before you found out you were pregnant. “Thank you,” you say before taking a long drag. The nicotine rushes straight to your head, mellowing you out. “I swear to god, your bother is so fucking lucky he fucking died before I found this out because I would’ve killed him my-damn-self.”

You sigh. Your world is crumbling around you. How could you not have known? And what did you do to deserve this? You never spoke down to him, hell you doted on the mother fucker, and still he cheated. He lied to you every day with a smile on his face like everything was fine. Why couldn’t he be a man and tell you he was unhappy? Why did he have to die for you to find out? You wanted answers, and the shittiest thing, about it, was that you’d never get them.

Taehyung is still quiet. You wish he would just go away because looking at him makes you angrier than before. “Can you turn around or something? Your face is pissing me off.”

“Listen, I understand you’re upset but don’t take that shit out on me. I’m not Sujin, I didn’t do shit to you. Get in the fucking car, I want to go home.” He snatches the keys from you and walks to the other side of the car.

You finish your cigarette and get in. By the time you two make it back to town, you have to go pick up Azra. So you drop Taehyung off at your house and get him. When you left, you told Tae you wanted him to be gone when you returned, but he didn’t listen.

You were too tired to argue with Taehyung, so you put Azra down for a nap and then walked to the kitchen. “You want a glass of wine? I have a feeling the rest of the week is going to suck as bad as today,” you call out to Taehyung from the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure. Can I smoke in here?” he’s walking around the den, looking at all the pictures. He stops on a photo of you two at your baby shower. He smiles fondly. If Taehyung was honest, he wished he was around more. He hadn’t seen you or his brother since Azra was born. And he regretted that. 

Taehyung had a secret he told no one but hated you for. At your wedding, you told the story about how you met your husband, but the boy you met that day was Taehyung. He fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you. He confessed to you a week later and told you to think about it. When he went to find you the following day, he saw you kissing his brother; the rest is history. 

“Uh, no, but we can go into the sunroom. It’s heated, and I have the baby monitor.” You leave the kitchen and go into the den, “Is that okay with you?”

Taehyung looks over at you. He wished that it was him that you had fallen in love with. He would never hurt you in the way that Taejoon had. He felt selfish for his thoughts about you. They were wrong. Especially considering the current circumstances. But if he was being honest, you’d never look more beautiful to him than you did right now. Your hair was messy, with no make-up on, in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. “Yeah, that's fine.”

You grab the bottle and some glasses and walk towards the sunroom, placing them on the coffee table and going to the sound system. You didn’t want to listen to the silence. You put on something soft and airy to help soothe your nerves. Your week had gone from bad to fucked up in a matter of 24 hours. Whoever you were in your previous life must have been one fucked up person because your current life is kicking your ass.

“Hey, you guys got it remodeled. I like it.” he looks around, admiring the work.

“Uh, no, I remodeled it. Your brother did jack shit but complain about how it was keeping him awake.” You roll your eyes and throw yourself into one of the many chairs, sighing.

Taehyung takes a seat next to you.“I’m sorry this is happening to you. I know I was giving you a hard time earlier today, but I just wanted you to know you’re not alone. I’m here for you completely.” He grabs your hand. You look down at your hands and then back at him.

“It’s just tough to be around you, Taehyung. Even more so now than before. I wish you would get that, but you’re so goddamn stubborn. And you’re really touchy, it’s weird.” You remove your hand from his and pour two glasses.

He chuckles. “I’m sorry. It’s just how I show people I care. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll stop.” He grabs a glass and takes a sip. He stands to open a window and then lights a cigarette. “Do you have an ashtray?”

You set one down on the coffee table. Taehyung turns to look back at where you set it, and for a split second, life feels normal. Like Sujin didn’t die, you didn’t find out he was cheating, and you felt happy. The silence that follows you is so comfortable. He smiles at you before looking back out the window. Then Fade into You by Mazy Star comes on, and Taehyung walks over to you.

“Dance with me.” He extends a hand to you.

You scrunch your face with a smile, “I’m tired.” you try to push his hand away, but he pulls you up by your hand. You give into the dance eventually, resting your head on his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot today, but I’m sorry about everything my brother has put you through… I would’ve never done that to you. You’re way too precious to me.” you pull away to look at him. And he stares down at you. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. And before you knew it, your lips were crashing together. 

You both knew it was wrong, but it was like magnets. You two couldn’t pull away. Your hands move to the hem of Taehyung's shirt, sliding up against the smooth skin of his torso. He wasn’t lean, and you liked that a lot, so you scraped your nails against his stomach. “Take this off.”

He takes his shirt off and moves to take yours off. When he finally gets it off, he starts kissing down your chest, “I’ve wanted to do this since I was 15..” You swear you hallucinate him saying that. You unbutton his jeans and slide your hand into his boxers. He moans softly into your neck, and that was enough for him to snap. He tugs your sweatpants down, having you step out of the. He kisses your inner thigh before pulling your panties down, not even allowing you a second before he picks you up and pins you against the window.

Now, to say that Taehyung wasn't gentle was an understatement. He fucked you like he hated you like he wanted you to know how much you ruined his life, but also how much he was willing to give up to be with you. And as much as you knew it was wrong, you loved it. Neither of you talked the whole time. You both enjoy not being sad for once. When everything was all said and done, Taehyung set you down gently and walked away, sitting on the floor. He knew the severity of what had just happened and needed time to process it. But there was no going back from what just happened. You both had effectively ruined each other's lives.

You joined Taehyung on the floor, sitting behind him and leaning your head on his back. You planted a small kiss on his shoulder. You knew everything would be okay when he reached back for your hand to hold. “I’m gonna take care of you from now on,” he says as he kisses the inner of your wrist.

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credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers