#like seriously thank you for the kind words

[ybklix]

the touch

PART THREE OF THE PROJECT 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ part one 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ part two ★ pairing: dom!bangchan x inexperiencedfem!reader

✦summary: Every time you and Chan meet again, you explore a new world of experiences, and this is especially true when he is very needy but shows it in his own way.

♡ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, college au, grinding, spanking, pet names (dreg too), dirty talk, teasing, clitplay, oral sex, face fucking, cum shoot, cum eating, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, slight breeding, aftercare!

word count: 10.3k

masterlist - taglist

♡ songs: railway by bang chan / everyday by ariana grande / nothing without you by the weeknd

wen’s note: tysm for +3k notes in the first part, that’s insane i luv yaa; edit: I lost all the written smut I had to rewrite it all, I was crying (real) edit two: im vibing now lmao

Everything looked better in Chan’s mind, after he had touched you twice which each time outweighed more and more the other, he believed for a moment that he would have it all, that everything would be from then on all about your sweet smell, nice dates, more quality time and just two stupidly tender people holding hands while walking around the campus, it was perfect, so perfect to be true that in reality it never happened that way.

After he dropped you off at your apartment, after the party and you tenderly and sweetly rested in his arms like he adored and wished it would happen every day, every day became hell for him, and he wasn’t exaggerating-or maybe a little, but he needed you, now, like never before, and not just sexually, he wanted to be genuinely close to you, to hear you talk and see you smile next to him; Chan thought that after the party would be the perfect time to ask you out, so he foolishly waited for the most fitting and cute moment he would treasure forever, but that didn't happen.

You just said:

“See you soon. Thanks.”

And you leaned in to give him a quick, shy kiss on the lips that fascinated him and took him by surprise, because if he had expected it he would have taken you more passionately and tenderly in a real kiss, and you just said goodbye to him like that before walking into your apartment and leaving him rambling in the hallway. Chan had to visit his family because it was Sunday so you understood perfectly and offered to let him drop you off at your apartment, but he didn’t want to leave you alone and if it were up to him he would already take you to meet his parents, he was feeling kind of intense with you, truly believing there was a huge fire between you, but decided to give you your space since you wanted to relax after your first club experience. Chan couldn’t believe that maybe it was your first experience at all and he was giving it to you, it was driving him crazy. You talked by text, but he refused to ask you out via text having the opportunity to tell you in person while seeing your sweet face. But did he really have that chance?

Unfortunately that see you soon wasn’t so soon. Chan was losing his mind, the first week he took it lightly, he had forgotten one thing you were very serious about, weeks of exams and heavier work, so he understood your aloofness, every time he approached you after class was over it was the same. “Oh, I’ll go study with Sam, do you want to come?” “I’ll be busy studying,” “I have a project due.”

Chan would reject the offer to go with your friends because he felt shy. He wished that somehow it could just be him and you, together. But he finally got up the courage to meet your friend, and one thing he noticed was that you really took college seriously. You ended up exhausted and quiet, and he could only see you and have you from afar because, due to his bad luck, he never found time alone with you.

He was fine. He was trying to convince himself of that, that soon you could be together and he would not distract you in something he knows is very important for you just because of his silly dream of living a romance with you, of being able to kiss you and touch you, he was not a high school kid anymore, he understood perfectly that both of you were studying your professional career for your future.

But weeks went by and he was getting crazy and tedious, he needed you, it was enough just to try you twice, now you were a drug for him and he couldn't do anything, he couldn’t take you by the arm and take you to a place alone, separating you from your friend because he wanted to look like the sweet boy who was worth it when she was around.

At first it was sweet, when he sat next to you to supposedly study but didn’t memorize a single term for thinking about you, Chan would play with his pencil, watching you deftly type on your laptop and gently rub the bridge of your nose freeing them for a few seconds from the grip of your glasses, while he imagined a lot of cheesy things, like those married couples who usually say they met in college, taking you shopping, walking on the beach with you, to take your mind off all the work you were doing and de-stress a little.

However, something in him changed slightly, his looks were heavier and more penetrating, almost eating you with his eyes because it was evident that you were awakening even his greatest fantasies. He wondered how you didn't notice.

You were doing so well, you were so focused on your studies that sometimes you forgot the presence of those around you, that you almost forgot Chan. After that encounter you didn’t know what the next move was, you were a little scared so one of the perfect excuses was to always be busy, when in reality you cared so much about having so little experience. On the lonely nights, you wondered what if he wanted more -which you also wanted so badly- but he caught you being once again inexperienced, so besides physics you tried to study the great world of sex, reading and watching on the internet the perfect techniques, feeling insecure that maybe another college girl had already given him the best oral sex of his life and you were still scared.

Not only were the heavy and hectic exam weeks approaching, but Chan was starting to get busier with his soccer training so it wasn’t now possible to see you as often, even though he was losing his mind, you both had to get on with your lives.

Chan was so desperate, that like a man in distress, he asked for advice from one of his best friends who he knew would take him seriously on the matter of being genuinely interested in you.

“You fucked her and you haven’t asked her out on a date? Fuck off man, maybe she’ll think you definitely didn’t take her seriously.”

“Okay, you were supposed to help me Changbin, what the fuck was that?”

“I’m just telling the truth. Why did you wait so long? Even a simple dinner after your study sessions or something.”

“But I want it to be cuter and more perfect than that, plus I still keep her close and text her every day, she should know I’m serious.”

His friend softly shook his head.

“And why do you keep your distance, huh? Even the smallest, most improvised thing will be the most romantic thing when there’s something between you, stop being controlling for a moment.”

Chan laughed softly, continuing his walk around the campus.

“Seo Changbin, quite the romantic” Chan joked looking at him with a mischievous smile, “Since when are you an expert? Last I heard you are absolutely bitchless.”

Changbin raised his shoulders first feeling a compliment and then an attack, “Hey! fuck you, man, I’ll make my move with Chaeryeong soon, I swear” he joked, taking a drink of his water and suddenly pointing to the front. “Hey, isn’t that Y/n?” Chan looked at once to where his friend pointed, “Who’s she with?”

Chan’s smile collapsed in seconds and his mature ideology of leaving you and giving you your space ended when he saw you in the distance smiling shyly at a boy as you both sat on the grass under a tree.

“I’ll go talk to her. I’ll see you back at the house” Chan coldly warned Changbin to approach you without taking his eyes off you for a second.

Chan’s thoughts began to cloud over… why was a guy out of nowhere approaching you? Almost a month of not being able to be alone with you because you were creating excuses of which didn’t discourage him for a moment because Chan felt and saw in you that you still wanted to have him around… for a stranger to be sweetly sitting next to you as if you were about to have a nice picnic. Please be a gay guy, Chan thought internally.

You both immediately felt Chan’s presence in front of you, you felt something tender and sweet knowing it was him, you smiled being happy to see him��. but it was inevitable not to see him completely from that angle, you were sitting on the floor and he was in front of you, wearing comfortable and sporty clothes, from head to toe, every garment was black, sneakers, socks, his shorts and his black sleeveless shirt tight to his muscular body, his arms looked more toned, with his visible veins and his pale shoulders and neck shined slightly covered in his sweat; his big pectorals stood out as he had across his body his backpack. You tried to hide with a tender smile how incredibly turned on you were getting watching him from below with his perfect body and handsome sweaty face. You knew his schedule perfectly, he had just left the gym.

“Hey, Chan.”

“Hey,” he waved his hand in a fake high-pitched tone, “I was already on my way home so I was passing by the campus but I saw you.”

You let out a nervous giggle, quickly glancing back at his body, he looked so good. He put his hands on his hips and you appreciated his arms and fingers more…. his long veiny fingers, you needed him all of a sudden, watching porn at night trying to study a little about sex, which you knew wasn’t the most viable and the most true, it only made you arouse your sexual desire more, and more towards Chan, one of the best-looking guys in college and you could have him to yourself, you hadn’t been touched in weeks, you hadn’t had a nice interaction with him in a while, you needed him and missed him, you thought about it all the time but seeing him just like this unleashed in you a voracious appetite to have him.

“Ah, you just got out of the gym, right?”

He nodded, “And Sam?”

“Ah, she’s not here because I’m on my tutoring time.”

Chan ran his tongue along his cavity, annoyed. Thinking it was unbelievable that every time he was with you your friend was there but just now she was letting you have alone time but with another guy.

“Oh, I see. We haven’t met… I’m Bang Chan, by the way,” Chan addressed the guy to the side of you.

Chan got angrier that he couldn’t say anything else, that he couldn’t assert authority by introducing himself since there was nothing else to say, you and him were still friends and he couldn’t claim you as his girlfriend. He was jealous. Besides that the guy was an attractive guy, with straight black hair, a manly young face, pretty eyes, and a pronounced cute nose.

“Yang Jeongin.”

Jeongin watched Chan, intimidated and was surprised to see the confidence in which a very popular guy in a fraternity would approach you as he never believed you had that kind of friendships, he thought you were a pretty, sweet and tender girl studying physics, shy and nerdy.

“Oh, he’s a year younger than us, I’m teaching him a little.”

“Outside, like having a picnic? Why not in the study hall?” interrupted Chan, obviously annoyed.

His tone of voice shook you, he looked so attractive when it was obvious he was jealous. It was obvious that the two of you wanted each other intensely, why wait so long to meet again?

“Jeongin suggested lying in the grass for a bit, breathe some air…” you said somewhat shyly, looking into his dark, narrowed eyes.

You needed to touch that grass, how horny you were getting just looking at him wasn’t healthy. You wanted his cock in your mouth, you thought it must feel so good there.

“Oh, so you do whatever Jeongin suggests now?” he mumbled to himself, “I’ll see you later, okay? Don’t go home so late and anything, call me, please. Let me know when you’re home.”

Chan gave you a tender smile and delicately untangled your hair by passing it amicably over your head. You turned your head to watch him leave and hoped he wasn’t angry… besides one thing he would do would be to stay with you until Jeongin left. You sighed, you needed him and that friendly gesture only confused you more.

[…]

And without realizing it, time passed incredibly fast. A month had passed since the last time Chan had touched you, the last time the two of you shared something as intimate as a kiss or a hug. You were coping well, as you remembered him when you came home tired to your apartment and faintly thought about him until you fell asleep, but he was getting more and more desperate, he was finally dying to talk to you but somehow you were appearing less and less in his life.

You were still tutoring Jeongin two days a week - and earning money for it. Still Chan kept a close eye on him, as it was obvious that the boy was showing signs of a crush on you.

And you knew exactly that it had been a month because you were so preciously treasuring the date when you finally had sex. So for the first time you got a little distracted from class and saw him in the distance, his manly presence and beautifully sculpted side profile, you bit your lip, thinking that you should be the one to approach him now because you needed him and you couldn’t wait any longer.

When the class was over you wanted to go after him right away with no plan other than to talk to him, but he had already gone ahead in leaving the place, losing sight of him and leaving you with a strange feeling. Still, that didn’t discourage you, you would go looking for him later, so you had a plan. Finally the afternoon came, you knew the time when he finished his soccer practice, so you decided to surprise him by showing up there.

You felt strange, alone near the bleachers in the soccer field area, you bit your lip looking for Chan, and doubted if it would have been better to send him a message to know if he would be there.

Chan was just finishing his practice when he spotted you in the distance, a huge smile forming on his face. You felt strange, like all the little things you didn't experience in high school you were doing it now, like waiting for the cute guy after his soccer practice, but it was a thousand times better, at least now because the heavy projects, exams, and stressful life of a college student is not ideal, but it was better because you were both adults, Chan was all man who knew exactly what to do and the best part, you lived all alone, you had all the autonomy of your place, so that was exactly your plan, to invite him to your apartment to have some alone time again.

You saw him approach you and for a second you never thought you would be that kind of girl… but you were for Chan and it was worth it, he was cute with you by message and in real life.

“Hey there” Chan greeted you, surprising you and putting you in a good mood.

Once again, he was slightly drenched in sweat, making you nervous at how good he looked even like that, with his forehead vein popping. He was pleased and surprised to see you there, you wore a tender smile and shy presence so he deduced that it was a good thing, that the idea made him blush.

“Hey, Chan… what are you doing tomorrow?”

He was slightly out of breath, “You came all this way to find out?” he played a little, “Tomorrow? I’ll have the game, you have to come, remember?” he said without thinking and then he read your expression and how your slight intentions were off, so now he said more concerned, “Oh, but why? What's wrong?”

He suddenly feared that he had made a mistake, for the first time you showed up there near his space and he was not available, Chan reproached himself for his answer, but it was true that he could not miss the game, but if it was that you wanted to see him then he could dedicate the day before and after the event to you.

You didn’t want it to end like that, not all of a sudden, just resigning yourself. After all, you and Chan needed a very good reward for all the time you didn’t get to spend together, feeling each other’s touch, it was time to help each other and release the stress of the frustrating past weeks.

“Ah, yes yes yes. The game, I’ll be there. And what are you doing today…? Do you want to see a movie, have dinner, and stay at my place?” you mentioned the last sentence looking him in the eyes and almost seductively whispering the invitation.

It was Friday. For the first time, you postponed a project, all to spend more time with him. Chan raised his eyebrows and his smile widened. Wanting to think that there was a hidden message there and he just deciphered it. He was going to have you tonight and every hair on him rose in excitement.

“Aw… you’re inviting me to a sleepover?” he played, flirtatiously, slowly moving closer to you.

You nodded, shyly, “But bring your pajamas.”

He snickered.

“I will,” he replied, taking you after so long, by your waist, raising Chan's mood inexplicably at finally having you close, “Do you want me to pick up dinner when I go?”

He didn’t even know what he was talking about, he just wanted to have excuses to create time and hold your waist longer.

You shook your head, “No, let’s order when you’re at my place” you whispered, lost in him, you wanted to kiss him, so, so, so bad.

“It’s okay. How about if,” Chan checked his Apple watch for a second, “I get to your house at 7? I’ll go take a shower and be on my way.”

You nodded, humming in approval.

“Okay, baby… I see you, then” he whispered to you, both of you without the slightest intention of separating and creating tension.

But you played with him a little, waving goodbye and breaking the tension, you'd be about to see him.

For him, every second together, even with people around, was special, and he treasured it. But nothing compared to finally having your alone time, just you and him and whatever the night brings.

[…]

You were almost wandering around your apartment, thinking that everything is in order and you just kept wandering with uncertainty if what you had planned would work out or if it was a good thing to do, you looked down at your outfit, biting your lips a little nervously and before you could change your mind absolutely, the loud knock on your door almost startled you. Yes, you had given Chan absolute access to your apartment and yes, your plan was to act a little differently.

You mentally braced yourself before opening the door and just as you grabbed for your doorknob, you felt a little itch on the bridge of your nose, completely remembering that you were still wearing your glasses with your whole face with makeup on, you were supposed to wear your contacts but you were so used to the feeling of glasses in your eyes that you sometimes forgot they were there.

Finally, you opened it, leaving Chan breathless just like the last time, a little over a month ago, when he saw you wearing that tight black dress exactly standing behind your door frame, but this time you were wearing a tight and cute pink corset with a tight and tiny miniskirt and, your dirty little secret, was that you weren’t wearing anything underneath this one.

“Wow, you look… beautiful. What’s the occasion? Were you expecting us to go out somewhere?” he spoke, engrossed, looking you up and down.

You looked at Chan, you had no words to describe how much you liked him and how great he looked.

“Not really… I just wanted to dress like this” you replied letting it go, “Do you like it? Make yourself comfortable, do you want anything?”

“I love it” he replied, licking his lips and taking shy steps to the couch in your living room, “Mmm… a coke, it’s okay if you have any or just water.”

Chan left his bag in your foyer. You blushed. You could see his face and hear his soft tone perfectly as he complimented you. Chan almost trembled in nervousness. Seeing you like that just made him shy somehow. Finally being alone, not having touched you, and seeing you wearing something so sexy and provocative that he wasn’t even remotely used to seeing you wear didn’t help him much. He was getting more and more unhinged, but he had to play it cool.

He followed your walk to the kitchen with his gaze, looking slightly cheeky at your silhouette until he lost sight of you and he came across something so dazzling that he let out a soft sigh, the small sight of your bare bottom that barely covered that skirt as you swayed your hips. Chan stretched his arms out towards the couch, licking his lips again this time biting his tongue a little and returning his gaze to the front… thinking that seeing you like this could only have one reason - or at least he was looking forward to it - you were looking to seduce him that night, you were looking for his touch and for more sweet sex after so much; plus his dirty, dark thoughts were triggered by visualizing the image of you wearing tiny panties, a thong, or not wearing anything… or why your ass was exquisitely exposed, at least a small part of it. Chan loved it, loved the little seconds he saw of your ass that drove him crazy, he wanted to aggressively squeeze your skin with passion, making it red.

While you were only focused on one thing, act bolder, bolder, bolder, you wanted to drop the shyness for once and for all, you wanted to take Chan and have him do it too, you wanted to feel that spark between the two of you again and have him give you constant affirmation that what you feel is mutual and exclusive, you wanted him for yourself, you couldn’t take it anymore.

Walking without your panties on and approaching him to initiate something obviously more risqué, hot and sexual, was one of the bold moves you could think of, besides putting on a tight top that accentuated your figure, you wanted to be obvious, but none too much, but you hoped he would understand within seconds. You felt your folds slightly damp with every step you took and it was all thanks to Chan, who looked exquisite in his jeans, white shirt and thin denim jacket.

You bit your lip and gently plopped down on your couch dangerously close to him, handed him the can drink and turned your body, leaning your arm on the couch back and your bare thighs brushing against his, almost with your knees on top of them.

“So… any chance you can win the game tomorrow?” you commented somewhat amused to break the silence and the obvious sexual tension.

Chan’s gaze traveled from your thighs to your notorious chest through the corset to come to a fixed point on your face, killing him with tenderness as your radiant, sweet face, still wearing your glasses, made you look like a tender, sexy smart girl, which he was sure couldn’t be more true.

“Of course, we will win! Why do you say that? Hey, you’ll be there” he jokingly replied.

You laughed softly and watched his long fingers open the can, holding it up to take a sip of his soda. His strong neck—you needed him.

“Mmm… it’s just that we haven’t seen each other in so long," you added somewhat detachedly, engrossed in Chan. “well, we’ve seen each other often, but I guess it wasn’t the same, you know?”

Chan pressed his lips together, wiping any trace of the fizzy drink from his lips, and stared at you, his right hand held the can and with the fingertips of his other hand he began to gently trace random shapes on your thigh, delighting himself with your smooth texture.

“I understand perfectly…. we haven’t had this time alone, but all because of exam week, I know. How did it go, sweetheart?” he whispered, almost breathless and beginning to seduce you with every part of him, his voice, his gaze, everything.

You let yourself be carried away seconds by his touch before responding the same way he did.

“Ah, you know, I’ve been doing well, but it’s kind of stressful.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, honey…”

You blushed again, more so when he spoke to you like that, seductively but with slight concern, over all.

“I know” you continued speaking softly, tilting your head and looking into his dark brown eyes. “But I need the scholarship, living alone near the college area is expensive.”

Chan gave you a half smile, slowly bringing his fine brushes up.

“Aw, baby, that thing about you not having a roommate doesn’t sit well with me. Let me be your roommate…”

You laughed, “You’re crazy” you lifted your arm to play a little with his jacket on his shoulder. “I’d love to, but my dad would kill me, plus you have to give up your fraternity, aren’t you the leader and you have a pact or something?”

He smiled and set the can down on the coffee table.

“Would you like me to live with you?” you nodded not thinking clearly, just thinking that having him around every day would be a dream. “So…? I can quit, they’ll put Hyunjin in my place” he played a little, still taking full advantage of the tension created.

You made an amused expression.

“Hyunjin? He’s not frat boy material, he’ll die on day one.”

The distance was getting closer and closer between the two of you, and you could feel the breathing of both. Chan ran his tongue around the inside of his lips in amusement.

“Huh, what does that mean? That I’m just a frat boy to you?”

You looked at him for a few seconds that seemed long, you analyzed every part of his face and being inches away from each other didn’t help anything but create more tension. You knew he was only joking with you, still, you replied seriously as you were seriously admiring him.

“No… of course you’re not just that. You’re much more than that… I’m sorry… that I’ve strayed a bit…”

He sighed, losing his sanity with every passing second, turned his body a little and put his arm gently over yours to play with your loose hair.

“It’s okay, I understand, honey, college is very important for you.”

But so was he and you couldn’t believe you completely brushed him aside. It was your time to remedy that.

“So... how about you, how were the exam weeks?”

“Good,” he replied simply. “Tired, stressful. I may need a little help for the next exams.”

Now he dropped his hand all the way down to your thigh, stroking it almost to your area, putting it under your tiny garment and squeezing your skin.

You both couldn’t stand it a second longer.

It was your chance to step up and act bolder.

“Mmm... you know I can help you...”

You whispered, his gentle hand squeezing your thigh and seeking even deeper into your sensitive spot. But in one deft movement, you sat gently on his lap, surprising him completely. Chan watched your expression, still with a hint of shyness on your characteristically tender face... but he noticed that there was something completely noticeably different about you, a soft, mischievous smile, beautifully heavy breathing and a lustful gaze begging for more and more.

When his confusion vanished from him, a smile formed and he enjoyed the weight of your body on his lap and began to caress your body.

“Of course, you know how to help me. Smart girl” he murmured close to your lips.

You felt his fresh breath and his big hands run over your waist all the way down to your thighs.

He knew then that you were the mastermind of this little plan, of summoning him there, of dressing provocatively to drive him crazy and of being the one to approach him. He loved it, found it adorable and so damn hot he was still softly hard.

“I missed you, hun” he whispered, taking you by the chin.

You smiled at him and enjoyed every second of what you anticipated the obvious that your heart began to race.

You thought a soft ‘me too’ but couldn’t say it out loud and just leaned in to kiss him.

Chan was surprised each time but accepted it and received your lips sweetly. Finally, after so long, you were enjoying each other.

Your lips met softly, in a delicate act of delighting in the sensation and movements of each other’s mouth, as if you were trying to remember every particle of that soft and delicate muscle. You adored Chan’s lips and kisses. You loved having him close, as did he, in which he enjoyed the warmth of your body on his and your velvety lips painted in soft lipstick.

Chan held your face and squeezed your thigh letting himself go, lost in the sensation of something he longed for and desired so much.

Your hands also went to his face, letting your fingers rest on his soft jaw that moved as he kissed you.

And being out of breath, you parted only short seconds, almost nonexistent centimeters only for you to whisper between his lips in amusement:

“This is the kind of help you need?”

Chan laughed softly, squeezed your thigh tighter, and moved further across to take your lips again, this time faster, frantic and desperate, his restless tongue struggling to find yours, his soft, fluffy lips sensually sucking at your mouth, you kept pace with him and you both released that deep frustration in your being, the abstinence, and desperation for both of you.

You both needed each other, the connection was irremediable. You were making him more and more excited and for you, having his strong and big body close to yours was making you crazy, his hands on you, his nose bumping against your face, your glasses slipping off, you were getting that aching and throbbing sensation in your sensitive clit that only Chan could achieve in you, your folds were wet, sticky, you were making a mess with only his passionate kisses.

It was inevitable for Chan not to start getting completely hard as he was feeling the intensity with which you were responding to him and he was understanding perfectly the situation that you both would let something sexual happen. You, on the other hand, felt his erection bump against your ass as you were sitting right on top of him, you wanted him so badly that almost by reflex you began to move gently to feel his hard cock between the denim of his jeans, causing a soft gasp to come from his lips in between the kiss. Chan continued to stroke your thigh until he reached under your tiny skirt looking to play with your panties, but to his surprise, he found the fine touch of only your skin, you were not wearing panties and the thought made his cock throb.

“Mmm, fuck baby, you’re not wearing panties” he murmured sultrily between your lips, finding a way to abruptly spread your legs apart to pinch and rub your clit. “Like you’re getting your little pussy ready for me to play with.”

You blushed and yet you didn’t stop moving gently on him, you parted but were still with your faces pressed together, feeling each other’s agitated breathing, Chan bit his lip, running his fingers over your soft vaginal lips, letting them enfold your wetness without abandoning the tantalizing movements on your clit with his thumb.

You were so aroused, moaning softly at finally being touched in your much-needed area, you turned your face letting your cheek brush against his nose, and admired his strong veiny arm getting lost in your core; you were flailing and increasingly making a mess but you wanted to act bolder, you wanted to make up for all the times you couldn’t do it and felt you were pushing him away, so you wanted to be the one to take a little initiative and not get completely carried away with something Chan was starting.

“Ch-chan, I want to make you feel good…” you whimpered.

“And you do honey, don’t you? I love playing with your pussy” he whispered in your ear, this time with his fingertips superficially teasing your entrance. “Don’t you like it? God, you’re so fucking wet already.”

“Yes-yes, I do like it.”

“You’ve been stressed, let me take care of you, sweetie.”

Chan was beginning to tease you, his fingers not fully entering all the way to your sweet spot, his thumb tantalizing your clit, you were hopelessly desperate for something stronger, but you didn’t want him to do all the work.

You turned to see him again, his face was focused, his gaze dark and bright with desire; this was your chance, you had to act and stop being shy, do exactly what you wanted and what you wanted was also to provoke him a little. You smiled at him shyly but mischievously, you stirred and found a way to get out of his touch to quickly turn your body, turning your back to him, you held onto his knees and with your red face covered in slight embarrassment but lost in sexual desire, you began to move your hips, slowly and sensually over his crotch. Chan was completely surprised, but he let himself go, realizing your little attempts driving him crazy. Something in him was starting to take over, he found it so hot but tender the way you were surprising him more and more, and suddenly the immense and incredible desire to possess your body, to have you panting and exhausted asking for more.

Chan caressed your back, enjoying the pornographic sight of having your appetizing ass, half-visible through your short skirt, grinding on his cock; he bit his lip and in a desperate move roughly lifted your entire skirt to leave visible your ass and a small part of your exposed labia brushing against the rough denim of his jeans. You gasped, shaking your head and getting impatient, the rough fabric put a tingle in your core and every inch of you that was hard to breathe, you felt the stays of your corset tighten your skin, you longed to fuck him all at once.

“Aw, baby girl’s putting on a show, look at you, like a big girl, fuck, yes, keep doing it, baby” Chan moaned smugly with a rough voice and a cocky grin on his face that you couldn’t appreciate, ”You want to make me cum like this, don’t you, baby doll?”

You didn’t answer, your mind was occupied with the friction in your pussy that lightly battered your core. Your body burned with pleasure and slight embarrassment, you were adjusting to this new version of you but it was comforting to hear Chan's soft gasps and grunts indicating he was enjoying it. Grinding, a tiny lap dance, it was all new to you but you were making your mess in his cloth, pressing your pussy hard on him, managing to stimulate yourself more and more as Chan was having the fucking time of his life. He pulled his hands away from you for a second and watched your hips and ass move, fantasizing about having your pussy around his cock and you riding him exactly with that delicious sequence of movements.

Chan caressed your ass, going to his mind how beautiful it looked, so docile and submissive going in back and forth over his crotch, he squeezed your skin and the incredible desire to dominate you came back to him, like a strong, desperate charge in him. Chan held your hips tightly, lifting your body and forcing you to stop.

“Stay still” he ordered in his harsh voice, he delicately ran a finger between your folds drawing a sigh from you and began to caress your buttocks, “Your skin is so soft, princess…” he squeezed your ass, ”I love your ass, it's so cute… and easy to mark….. I know you're a good girl and can take them all.”

And unexpectedly, your first spanking, made you squeal and flinch in shock.

“You like it don't you, huh? Who knew that the smartest little girl of the class is actually a little whore who enjoys being spanked.”

And Chan continued, spanking you 10 times in all, fascinated with the idea of being the only one who could fucked you up like that, from the sight of your red ass with his hand imprinted on your skin. You whimpered in pain and pleasure, clutching at his knees, you couldn't even stop him, you had loved it, your whimpers and the sound of your skin being pounded filling your apartment, but your ass burned in pain, each spanking had been more intense than the other that you began to tear up slightly, almost like your pussy, wetting the inside of your thighs.

Chan grabbed your hips again, pulling you roughly against his lap again, you moaned at the friction on your ass. You whimpered a soft fuck.

“Keep grinding my cock, baby girl, give me a little show with your beautiful red ass.”

You kept doing it, not sure who could cum first, you wanted to but you were only overstimulating yourself and making your labia more sensitive with the constant friction. You adjusted your glasses and thought about how desperately you needed him so in one swift movement you turned your body, bringing your hands to the buttons of his pants, taking him by surprise.

“What are you doing, princess? Who let you boss yourself around?”

You looked into his eyes and he managed to intimidate you, something about him was so different from the last few times you'd done it, he was making you nervously excited, making your legs tremble. Chan leaned his body, getting closer to you and a smug smile formed on his face as your eyes looked shiny, your cheeks red and your makeup a little messed up. Messed up just how he wanted to have you tonight. You stood still, your hands in the waistband of his jeans; you swallowed nervously and with some embarrassment, you wanted to express your whole truth:

“I want to… feel you” you said in a trembling voice and retracted in seconds, remembering that you were going to leave your shyness behind, “I need you, Chan. I want to feel your cock, I want to fuck you.”

You sounded not needy but sincere and excited, your voice deepening, surprising your lover. Chan bit his lip, never believing you would say that sort of thing, as if the words cock and fuck were taboo coming out of your mouth, dirty and improper; his cock throbbed hard again, finding your dark lustful gaze behind your glasses fucking hot, making him uncontrollably horny to hear you talk like that no matter how immature it sounded… you were his sweet, tender, studious girl, now talking about how much you wanted his cock. It was one of his dirty dreams.

“Then come and get exactly what you want like a bad girl getting away with it.”

You blinked somewhat uncertainly, but with a mischievous smile you pulled down his pants and underwear with a little of his help until they were down to his calves. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of his well-erect cock, twitching as if it had a life of its own, you were scared and excited, thinking it even looked bigger since the last time you fucked. Chan groaned, feeling the release of his aching cock and the sound of him made you look into his eyes, his perfect slitted eyes radiating desire and his countenance and complexion exuding dominance and control. Before you could act, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back onto his lap.

“Make you cum on my cock, princess” his cock lightly pressed against his abdomen, throbbing in pleasure, you looked up at him, accepting your fate and thinking you were going to fuck him like that so you took his length, settling him at your entrance, but he stopped you, “Not like that, not yet, grind on it until you cum like the little slut you're behaving.”

You watched him from the arc of your glasses and positioned his thick cock between your folds, filling them completely, finally bringing the two warm sexes together which caused more than one sigh from both of you.

“Oh Chan” you whimpered and held onto his strong, broad shoulders.

You felt his length on your slick labia, opening your folds wide and rubbing your clit, grinding your wet sex hard against his until you felt every pulsation, it felt so good sliding in that you were making a mess again, this time you were more breathless, panting and feeling your orgasm close. You were eager, agitated and beginning to see stars; you looked down, your pussy hugging his veiny cock, playing with the sensitivity of his skin, his handsome manly face in pleasure as he babbled leaning back on the couch, his hands were on your hips, and you closed your eyes every now and then pushing yourself over the edge.

“Aw, baby, come on, you're going to cum on my cock? Do you like it? Tell me when you're about to cum.”

You gasped loudly in response, it was more than obvious, that what started as slow, sensual movements enjoying every second of the act turned into something faster, frantic, and desperate, looking for the release of your orgasm. Chan felt close as you began to move rapidly into him.

“Ch-channie, I'm about to, to… ah.”

“C'mon you can do it, hun, fuck, I'm close too.”

You panted, burying your hands in his shoulders, sighing heavily until you puffed out your chest and pressed them against your tight corset, when then you felt the intense release that made you embrace him, breathing in his scent as your lower half reacted violently making a mess and twitching its muscles in desperation. Chan cum almost at the same time as you did, making it filthy poetic, covering your folds and your couch in his semen, you experienced his restless cock collapsing in you and Chan cursing as he painfully felt each release spurting out of him after he had held it long enough.

You were both agitated, you were recovering but you were sure that your night was not going to end there. While you were still with your body leaning on his, Chan suddenly unzipped your corset, you pulled away from him to look at him and he was already sliding the garment down your arms to remove it and you let him do it, leaving you with your hard nipples and bare breast. He bit his lower lip beginning to caress them again entering your endless cycle of pleasure, it had been so long without having each other that you were both aware that your first orgasm was just almost a little warm-up, but you were so aroused by the intensity of it even though it wasn't the main act. Chan leaned close to your ear, whispering:

“Stand up, now.”

Tired, you obeyed him without a second thought, Chan did the same; you smiled happily at him, finding him adorable, despite being in the dirty act, his countenance and the fact that you were together enjoying each other was lovely, so you impulsively sought his lips, wanting to feel him again, you did so for a few short seconds but he didn't follow your act and instead surprised you with his hand on the back of your neck tugging your hair slightly to pull you away from him.

“You think I haven't noticed how much of a whore you've been acting… from the moment I got here… walking around with no underwear on… I think you've been a very, very bad girl.”

You watched him, his arm holding your hair looked so appealing and his kind of behavior excited every part of you, as if he wanted to assert authority and you were about to give in completely. You liked this Chan and you were just hoping for more intense sex by continuing to be treated like this.

“I just… wanted to stop being shy, like you said. Being a bad girl is asking for your cock?” you played, looking at him with big, bright eyes in false innocence.

His cock throbbed again, you were hitting him right in his most sensitive spot, your sweet naivety and innocence, it was obvious now you wanted to experience something harder and he was about to give it to you.

“I hope you know how bad girls are treated, provocative little sluts like you… they are treated for exactly what they are. On your knees now.”

Chan had fantasized about his cock in your mouth so many times that today was the perfect occasion when you were both needy and open to so many things because of the abstinence you had. Just when it was obvious you wanted to be used and he couldn't miss the opportunity.

You played with his shirt before getting on your knees, indicating that you wanted him to remove his clothes and he understood your subtle message, taking off his jacket and shirt, leaving you drooling at the sight of his muscular abdomen and erect cock in front of your face once you were on your knees. Your heart pounded.

“Take it all, little slut, use it like you know how, I want to fill your whole mouth with me” Chan moaned, watching you from above, taking your hair in a fist.

You had stopped being brave for a second and rose to look at him as you held his erection. He read your docile expression, your bright eyes in a gaze he knew well and adored with a mad passion, your look of uncertainty and innocence.

“Take it, baby girl, use your mouth and hands. You'll do fine.”

Chan smiled, grabbing his erection and running it down your cheek and around your lips. You stuck out your tongue, tasting his pink glans, running your tongue around his opening to taste every drop of his previous cum and his oozing pre cum, as if you were scooping a delicious ice cream. His taste and sensation filled every inch of you and with a little more confidence, you licked his entire warm, pulsating, wet length, still having room to feel him between your hands and stroke his cock. You were so excited and thrilled to explore absolutely everything about oral sex that you did your best to wrap your lips over his member to have absolutely the whole experience, you licked and licked, following his veins around it, reveling in the pulsing sensation of his needy sex and the gasps of an also needy Chan.

“That's right, baby, you're doing great, fu-fuck, play with my balls a little too” Chan whimpered.

Your ears twitched, almost thinking, oh, I'd forgotten and your hands massaged his sensitive soft testicles, not sure what you were doing but you licked them a little as you'd seen it was something that could be done, earning you from Chan a muffled moan and throwing his head back.

“Fuck, you're a naughty girl. Now put it in your mouth, come on, baby girl. Open your mouth.”

You salivated at his thick, raspy voice and did just as he commanded, his length filling your cavity and rubbing against the inside of your cheeks. You gasped with your mouth full, it felt so good in a way. In and out of you, enveloping your tongue and lips. Chan watched you, your gaze behind those glasses, your delicate mouth filled with his member were taking him to heaven, like never before, in a way it looked so dirty coming from you, on your knees with your breasts exposed and your mouth drooling and hands occupied with his big cock, Chan wanted to treasure the moment forever, besides the sensation that rocked the deepest in him, it was the best oral sex he had ever had and all because it was you giving it to him. You held onto his thighs, caressed his pubic skin and brought your hand up to touch his abs a little. Chan guided you gently, pushing your head and you found the perfect rhythm, bobbing your head, it was hot the first few moments, but desperately hot the next, your nose and eyes started to get sensitive, your jaw ached but it was worth every second.

Chan loved the slight imperfection of your act, but stopped being soft and tender as he said to you:

“I'm going to fuck your throat until it hurts to talk, baby girl.”

He started thrusting, you didn't even get a chance to whine fighting that it was too big, when he answered himself.

“You can take it, you can do it-fuck.”

His erection was reaching further and further down your throat, it brushed your uvula and for a second you felt embarrassed for your gag reflex but he continued to thrust until he reached a point you didn't think possible in your throat. You watched him, your eyes begging for mercy but he took no pity on you and began to fuck your throat and mouth, ramming you until you were sore. You squeezed your legs together, feeling your fluids slipping from how uncontrollably aroused you were. It felt so good, so wrong, your poor mouth being abused your first time. Chan grunted and whimpered, turning him on the image of you struggling with his big cock.

“Fuck, you're taking it so good. I'm about to cum” a high pitched moan escaped his lips, “Yes, yes-yes-yes- fuck” he began to babble.

Tears began to flow out of you again… thinking if it was that desperate and hot your pussy felt on its own. You could taste his orgasm, his pumping cock getting closer and closer until he cummed in your mouth, choking you a little once again. Chan grunted loudly, putting his head back and returned to pull his cock out of your mouth and messily left shots of his cum on your face. You took a deep breath and not knowing what exactly to do you swallowed heavily his cum and smiled proudly.

“Fuck, baby girl, did you swallow it? Good girl. Look at you.”

Chan stroked your already tousled hair, pushing the stuck hair away from your forehead by your light layer of released sweat. He took his cock in his other hand and kept rubbing it on your face, proud to have left you in such a state. Needy, messed up with cum on your sweet face.

“Good girl. Come here, sit on the couch, it's your turn.”

You nodded and obeyed him with a silly, deluded smile on your face, you were happy to please him and felt the night had no end. Chan now undressed himself, freeing himself of his jeans and underwear and got down on his knees in front of you, he removed your skirt, leaving you vulnerable and naked, for the first time in front of him.

“You are beautiful. I want to make you mine” he whispered.

He moved closer to your face, you playfully bit your lip, from every angle and distance he was so attractive to you that, still delusional you held his face in your hands as he tentatively kissed you, his hand again playing with your pussy. His lips moved down and you caressed the curls of his hair as he did the same act he did the first time you were together, sizzling kisses down your body until he reached your sensitive cunt. He feasted on your breasts and nipples before he got down there and kissed your skin and clit, driving you wild.

“Use your words, little girl, what do you want now?” he asked, his hands squeezing your thigh, his breath on your pussy.

You didn't think about it, “Chan, please…eat my-pussy. I need it.”

“You need it?” he chuckled softly.

He admired the sight of your swollen, wet pussy, it was going to be a pleasure to taste you, and he adored it. He slapped moderately hard on your vulva making it more flushed, flinching you and finally, his lips encircled your pubis and part of your labia to suck exquisitely on your clit. You moaned, still stroking his hair.

“Mmm, Channie-”

You lost your mind as soon as he rubbed his face on your clit, shaking his head. This time he focused on your sensitive spot, playing with your folds, spreading and joining them in constant motion stimulating you while his mouth and tongue tortured your clit, biting, sucking, and teasing it with movements with the tip of his tongue, staring at you as he made you lose your mind.

You arched your back, Chan knew you were close, he stroked your clit with his finger and lowered his mouth to the rest of your vulva making you whimper, sloppy licks with his thick, warm, naughty tongue across your labia, sucking them until he reached your throbbing entrance. You were so close again and Chan began to penetrate you with his tongue, pressing his nose into another sweet spot of yours in the process. You babbled his name in a desperate search to climax your ecstasy.

“Cum in my mouth, cum in my mouth, baby-make a mess” his voice vibrated in your core and earned with it the intense mess of your orgasm.

Chan licked your orgasm, making you shudder. You were tired, your limbs trembling. The excitement was already a pleasurable burden on your body and with Chan, there was still no end to it.

“Your pussy is so swollen and beautiful baby girl, it's all ready for me to fuck you.”

You looked him in the eye and didn't protest, “Come on,” he gasped as he carried you and you let yourself be hold by him to your bed to lay your naked body on it.

You were hoping for the best, to finally be filled by him, even though you knew it was going to hurt because of his size, the feeling was hotly indescribable, it was what you wanted all along, to be fucked by him. The foreplay had been intense, your body was already tired but you thought you were ready for the last act. Chan positioned himself, stroking his erect cock and leaned down, his thumb wiping the rest of cum on your face, then sliding and inserting his finger into your mouth.

You needed him now. Your mind forgot about the existence of condoms in your drawer, you wanted Chan to fuck you at once. Chan smiled, his lips glistening for your orgasm.

He pulled his finger away from your mouth and sweetly took your lips, tasting a bit of the other and gradually raised the tone of the kiss until he left you breathless with your lips swollen, begging for more of the feel of his lips with yours.

“I'll make you mine, my cum in your mouth and everywhere. I'm going to fill your tight little pussy up, baby.”

Your body trembled in excitement, you couldn't resist it anymore, and you almost begged in supplication, following his game.

“Chan, please fuck me I want your cum inside me. I need your cum inside me so bad.”

He went back to playing with his thumb around your mouth.

“Look at you, baby girl, begging and saying please when I'm going to fuck you hard. Break you in two. I won't be gentle.”

He sentenced, fulfilling his words and ramming his cock violently into your pussy, opening wide your entrance and causing you to scream. Chan admired the bulge formed in your belly, running his thumb finely over your skin. He was deep inside you, ramming into your cervix, filling every space of your walls. You whimpered but his pumping sex had never felt better, pulsing, warm and wet, living the full experience of his veins being squeezed through your walls. Chan first used you, to you adjust to his size, taking you by the waist and using your body, manipulating it with ease and roughness sliding on his cock.

He admired his member being consumed by your entrance, your tightness choking him and his tip pounding to your limit.

“Cha-channie, please” you whimpered in pain and pleasure, still wanting to make a mess of his cock. “God, you feel so good.”

Sounds of your soaked pussy colliding with his dick began to make themselves present.

“So-fucking tight, baby girl, fuck, fuck.”

When Chan sensed that you were adjusting, which wasn't quite true, he began to move, ramming you bestially, moving his hips in a rhythm, bumping your skin, and releasing every frustration in you. You whimpered and embraced him as soon as he leaned into you, his skin rubbing and teasing your clit with each deep thrust. You dug your nails into his back and clamped your legs closely together to his body, once again apart from the sizzling pain in your pussy, the burning pain in your belly indicated another successful and intense orgasm with Chan appeared.

Chan cursed at the feel of it, the muscles of your spongy walls clenching him and your grip on him growing tight, your nails marking his pale skin and broad back, never ceasing to pound into you and babbling in the stars, close to your ear.

“Cha-chan, please, I'm gonna cum...”

“Do it, baby, fuck, cum.”

You arched your back in pain, rolled your eyes because he was hitting your sweet spot before climaxing, squealed getting restless, and collapsed under his body with every muscle in your vagina acting on his constantly moving cock. Chan moaned and did not stop thrusting you until he reached his orgasm. After short moments you again climaxed more gently, but intensely for him.

“Fuck-mmm, baby, fuck, I'm gonna fill you up. I'm gonna make you mine forever ahh-”

He grabbed your neck without choking you and cum intensely deep inside your core, leaving his member sensitive, satisfied, and used. Chan slid his cock out of you, leaving you with the sensation of a huge emptiness combined with the tingle of your muscles collapsing and his cum spurting out of your hole. He rested his cock on your belly, still climaxing loudly, rubbing his aching cock with his hand and leaving more cum on your skin. His orgasm was long and wonderful and managed to make him exhausted and shaken.

Chan dropped his body to the side of yours, seeking your closeness and comfort, hugging you and hiding his face in your chest.

“Holy shit, baby, that was amazing. Did you like it? I'm tired, but I can fuck you like that every fucking day.”

You were surprised that he was with his face tenderly hidden in your chest, hugging you, but you accepted it with a smile and started stroking his hair. Both of you breathing heavily.

“I loved it, Chan.”

“Me, too, sweetheart” he lifted his face to look at you, his tone was softer and his sweet gaze now reflected sweetness and almost seeking affection, you were impressed by the incredible change. “I hope I wasn't so hard on you, next time we can change, you can tell me anything...”

“I loved it” you interrupted him.

“Doesn't your cute ass hurt anymore?” he pouted adorably, his hands traveling to your butt to caress it.

You shook your head, laughing softly. He looked so tender as if he hadn't moved your guts less than five minutes ago. His eyes sparkled and he looked so soft with his curly hair falling down his forehead.

“Okay” he smiled, “I needed this. I needed you” he caressed your waist. “Can I ask you one thing now?”

Post sex was making you drowsy, you were tired and the warmth of Chan's body felt so good.

“Mmm?” you hummed.

“Let's go out... on dates, let me get to know you more and more. I want to make you my girlfriend, y/n. I want to be your boyfriend” Chan spoke, sweet and needy.

Sleepiness left your body and your heart raced as it was everything you had dreamed of all along... you finally knew he meant it. You looked at him, blinking softly.

“And I want to be your girlfriend, Chan.”

————————

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @cherricola-star @lolareadsimagines @jisuperboard @lilac13 @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @hyune-sssne @khandzilla @oddracha

[ultralightpoe]

Slim Pickens - Tyler Owens

Authors Note: Not me writing this smut on election day..... anyways enjoy! Cause I have no clue what happened to me.

Word Count: 5080

Warnings: SMUT, stranger tryna get laid and Tyler not having it.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @chrishemsworthsbitch ]

Enjoy!

“Guess I'll end this life alone

I am not dramatic

These are just the thoughts that pass right through me”

-

There was a simple saying that been passed down from generation to generation, and you knew it all too well. 

‘No use crying over spilt milk’. 

Your grandma used to say it whenever you had boy problems back in middle school and your mother took up the saying when you went on to middle school and in both of these stages in your life you hadn’t quite understood what they meant. 

Now, sitting cross legged on Tyler Owens hotel floor as he repeated those very words to you, you knew them all too well. And by the look of his smug smile in your direction as he got ready for the day you knew he knew his words struck a nerve. 

“Now don’t get cranky at me, sweetheart.” He warns, pointing at you as he kicks his boots closer to the bed so he can sit on the end of it to put them on. “I warned you he wouldn’t be worth it last night when you left.”

The ‘he’ in mention was some guy named Jake that you had matched with on Tinder last night, and who you had dumbly agreed to meet up with. It had been a long week of storm chasing and dealing with Tylers crappy music in the truck and you just wanted to relieve some pressure. 

“He quoted shakespeare.” You try to defend only for him to laugh at you. 

“You sleep with every guy that quotes shakespeare?”

“Guys who quote Shakespeare are hotter than guys who haven’t touched a book in their life!” You snap back. “And-”

“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” He interrupts, shoving his feet into the boots with a small look in your direction. But you were too focused on staring at the floor from exhaustion. 

“Mkay Yoda.” You sigh and his hands fly up in the air from lack of belief. 

“Seriously?”

“And I mean he was hot.” You continue, falling back to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling as he finishes with the boots and moves to get his bag together. “Honestly he kind of reminded me of you. But then he had to talk. And he just kept ruining it.”

“How so?”

“He was all ‘You ever seen a jet, Sugar’? And can’t forget ‘There is almost nothing better than the high feeling of flying through the air….almost.’ And it was-” You finish off the sentence with a loud groan as you slap your forehead making him laugh. 

“Did he not know what you do for a living?”

“Oh, you mean chase storms and kill them? No. Why would he? That would involve him asking me a question.” You seethe before Tyler comes into view, standing over you with that smug smile you hated and loved so much. 

“Alright, come on Sugar. It’s time to go.”

“Tyler, I’m gonna die alone.” You groan, closing your eyes before covering your face. He is having none of it though, reaching down to grab at your forearms, hauling you up with an ease that makes your skin flush. His hands are warm on your skin and the way his thumbs circle your flesh has images of your nasty daydreams flashing through your mind. 

“Enough of that mopin’. We got storms to chase and I ain’t got time to tell you that you’re never gonna die alone.” 

“Cause you don’t believe it?”

“No, cause the chances of us dyin’ in a tornado together are far more likely.” He laughs, deep and throaty as he leans down to scoop you up by the waist, taking a second to slap at your back thigh before exiting the hotel. “Cate will also kill us if we’re late again.”

-

“All the douchebags in my phone

Play 'em like a slot machine

If they're winnin', I'm just losin'”

-

“Not to be that guy…” Tyler starts, his voice already filled with annoyance. “But is now the time to be checking your phone?”

His hands were tight on the wheel as the truck raced through the fields, efficiently tracking down the storm that had caught Cate’s eye. And while you normally took the passenger seat next to Tyler after fighting with Boone for it so that Cate could take her own ford with Javi, today she had taken the seat and you were in the back with Boone who was just as upset by losing his special spot next to Tyler. 

It had been a rough day, between realizing one of the cars were completely broken down in the hotel parking lot and Boone nearly breaking his pinkie while trying to fix it. Let’s just say the hood of the truck came down a little too fast. Not only that but you had gotten stuck in the bathroom of your room until Tyler had to come save you in your towel, treating you like you were plague victim number one ever since. 

But the best part of the day so far? The introduction to Scott loservains new team, conning poor victims one at a time. 

“Hey man, I’m tracking our filming.” Boone argues, already offended.

“I’m making sure Javi has the same stats as us.” Cate argues. 

“Not talking to either of you. I’m talking to little miss lovestruck in the back.” 

“Hey!” You snap, immediately closing your phone. “Mind your business Tyler.”

“You’re in my truck. My truck is my business and everyone in the truck is my business.” He snaps back, shrugging his shoulders. “And besides, the more you let those fools win the more you lose.”

“How do you even know I was texting a guy?” 

“Because Sugar, I know you.” He snaps, casting you a quick look from his spot at the wheel before turning back to the road. 

“I think if you focused less on me then you would be able to drive better.” 

“I think if you focused less on the boys in your phone you wouldn’t be bitchin’ and moanin’ at me all the time!” He snaps back making you gasp as Cate and Boone switch their attention back and forth between you both. 

“Should we be worried?” Cate blurts, landing her gaze on you with her eyebrows pinched together in worry. 

“Not unless Tyler can’t learn to mind his own damn business!” 

“I’ll mind my business when you stop makin’ it my business!” 

“FINE!”

“FINE!”

-

“A boy who's jacked and kind

Can't find his ass to save my life”

-

The bar that sat 3 blocks away from the current hotel the team was staying at could only be described as a dingy cowboy bar, and considering you were mad at a certain cowboy this was the perfect place.  Surrounded by dozens of cowboy hats, none of them belonging to ‘Mr. Can’t Mind His Own Business’. 

He currently stood at the other end of the bar, closer to the live band as the dance floor began to fill with line dancers. Even that far away he was still being a pain in your ass with the way he glared across the floor every time you looked over. 

“You two don’t fight a lot. This is weird for you.” Cate chuckles, spinning her bottle of beer on the counter sat in front of you both, hearing the glass ring on the wood of the counter. “It sends the entire vibe of the group off.”

“It’s his fault.” You huff, scratching at the label of your own bottle as you avoided looking in his direction again. “I honestly don’t know where his freakout came from.”

“You don’t?” 

“No!” You huff, slapping your hands on the counter. “We were fine yesterday, I told him about that date with the aviator-”

“Oh that Jake guy. He was kind of cute.”

“Thank you. Anyways-” You take a quick inhale of air before looking at her. “We were fine and then today he was fine when he came to help me out of the bathroom but the second the door to the bathroom opened he got pissy.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, I assumed he had been getting hounded by everyone all day. He must have been stressed.” 

“Hmm.” She hums out, taking a look around the bar as you sit and mope. “I’m sure you both will get over it soon enough.”

“Slim chance. I am gonna ignore him forever now.”  It’s obviously just you being over dramatic but you were angry and embarrassed that he would call you out like that in front of the group. “Besides, if he didn’t want me talking to him about all that boy stuff he should have just told me. I don't know where his boundaries lie unless he sets them.”

“Damn, that’s deep.” She nods before tilting her head. “They should have put you on the shirt.”

“That’s what I said.” 

“And yet they-”

“Excuse me for interrupting ladies…” A new voice joins the group, making you both turn to the figure. A tall man with bruises along his jaw and a scratch right above his eyebrow. A black cowboy hat paired with a black shirt.  A fine specimen if you could say so. “I just saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life and I had to come say hello.”

“Well would you be pickin’ here?” Cate smiles. 

“There is no wrong answer.” You hum out, tilting your head like a cat assessing prey. 

“Then can I say both?” 

“Oh, look at that. Even with a map leading to the answer he still managed to mess it up.” You snipe, giving Cate a knowing look as you both grab at your bottles of beer and move to make your exit. 

“Wait wait.” He reaches a hand in front of you to try and stop you from passing. “Not a great start. I know that. So let me just start over, yeah?”

“Oh… I didn’t realize I did do overs.” 

“Then what can I do to be granted one?”

“Is there a problem here?” Leave it to Tyler Owens to enter this scene, giving his best glare as he inserts himself between you both with his back to you so he can glare down the cowboy.

“There is no problem here.” The cowboy smirks, and you are shocked to see just how brave he was. Then it clicks, the bruises and the hat. This was a bull rider. “You got a problem, bud?”

“Oh yeah I have-”

“LET’S DANCE!” You interrupt, sending a glare to Tyler before pulling the bullrider to the floor as Tyler rolls his eyes. 

Before you can make it too far his hand reaches out to grab your elbow with a knowing look, and even when he is mad he still holds your arm with a gentle ease and traces the skin with his thumb. “This isn’t a good idea.” 

“Well that’s interesting…. Cause it’s MY business!” You scoff, pushing his arm back and moving to the dance floor with the stranger. 

-

“Oh, it's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

It was only fair, since there weren’t many options of men you would just lower your standards and have fun with this idiot for the night. 

He had two left feet, and was pressed against you the entire time but not in a hot way, more so a sweaty mess kinda way. And you would have abandoned him already but every time you looked for an escape you saw Tyler and his glare, there was too much at stake here. You could never admit Tyler was right. In YOUR business. 

So you ignored him and turned back to the stranger, just in time for this waste of space to press his lips to yours. It was awkward, the way your noses pressed together and how hard he smashed his lips to yours. There was no rhythm, no preparation or molding together. It was just his lips devouring your face as you tried to lean back. But the further you tried to get away the more he leaned with you. 

When he pulls back he keeps his hands on you with a sharp smile. “Wanna go back to your place?”

There wasn’t many options, and the one option you truly wanted would never happen let alone the fact that you were fighting with him so you would make do with what you had. “Sure, let’s go.”

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

Telling Cate that you were heading out with him was easy, she made you promise to update her that you were okay, which was easy to do.  You managed to avoid any conversation about Tyler in his truck, which was hard because Mr. Bull Rider was dead set on asking about him. 

“What was that guy with white hats problem?” He asked, and you changed the conversation to the music he was playing. Then he tried the “You guys ever date or somethin’?” 

That one was harder to change since your throat got clogged up thinking of the answer. It’s not like you never wanted to date Tyler, in fact he was all you dreamed of. But it wasn’t meant to happen. Tyler wasn’t yours. 

So you simply started giving him directions to the motel like he hadn’t asked. And by the time you made it to the destination you had hoped that the conversation had passed as you unlocked the door. 

“This is it. Home sweet home….. For a little.” You smile, allowing him to look around while you take your shoes off. 

“So you live in a motel?” 

“When it’s tornado season, yes. We travel around but when he find a specific spot we try to stay.”

“You follow tornadoes?”

“Yes, and we chase them. And if there is destruction we try to help out the communities.” You explain, picking up the tornado shirt with Tylers face on it so you can show him then debate it at the last second you drop it down. “It’s fun.”

“I’ll bet.” He nods before allowing himself to sit on your bed. “We doing this?”

“Oh. Straight to the business.” You mumble, a little shocked as he begins unbuttoning the black top. 

“Sorry, did you want to talk or something?” 

“Well no- I just-” You couldn’t tell if you were thankful that the door opened in that second or absolutely furious as Tyler appeared with that fake innocent smile. 

“Hey Sugar,” He starts, letting himself in fully and shutting the door. “I just wanted to come make sure that bathroom door was all taken care of for ya’.” 

“Tyler, is now the time?”

“Oh, please. It’ll only take a minute.” He chuckles, walking past you both to get to the door. “Wouldn’t want you getting stuck in there again.”

“Tyler, what on eart-”

“Hey man, we were kinda in the middle of something here.” Stranger boy snaps out, scooting so he was right on the edge of the bed, his face pinched between confusion and anger. 

“Hey, safety first.” Tyler laughs, the sound fake and bitter as he leans down to check the hinges of the door while you just blink in shock. “Ah I see the problem here.”

“Tyler.” You hiss. 

“Just give me a moment.” He murmurs, working on the hinge of the door while you glare. “Just a minute……”

“Dude.” Stranger boy sighs and you are wound between shock, anger and embarrassment. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,.”

“There she is. Good as new.” Tyler smiles, standing to swing the door. “Look at that. Bet you’re glad I did it.”

“Tyler. Out.” You snap, moving forward to grab parts of his shirt to drag him out the door and slam it on him. “Now where were we?”

But it’s no use, since the door reopens with Tyler giving yet another innocent look. “Oh, sorry to interrupt. I forgot my screwdriver here.” 

“Tyler, grab it and then leave. And leave the key.” The fact that you were even in this moment was so bizarre. 

“Actually, I think I’m gonna get going… but let me write my information for when you get rid of dumbass barbie over here.” Stranger cowboy mutter, grabbing the pad of paper from the desk and writing his stuff down before moving forward to attempt to kiss you but Tyler is there, patting him on the back aggressively with a slight shove. 

“Sorry to see you go bud.” He smiles, a tense and angry smile before throwing an arm around your shoulder. “But we’ll be fine here.”

And you watch the bullrider leave, the door shutting before you whirl on him. 

-

“Jesus, what's a girl to do?

This boy doesn't even know

The difference between "there," "their" and "they are".”

-

“I can murder you.” You seethe, shoving his arm off of you and taking a couple steps away from him. “Matter of fact, what’s stopping me from doing so?”

“I just figured you might want help with the door-”

“Enough with the bullshit Tyler Owens!” You yell, whirling on him with your hands on your hips and a heavy glare. “What on earth were you thinking? After your fit today and that scene I’m starting to think you have lost your damn mind!”

“Hang on now-”

“And what on earth-” You take a moment to snatch up the pillow from the motel bed to swing it at him. “WOULD MAKE YOU INTERUPT-”

“HE WAS TERRIBLE!”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” You yell. “Look around for a second Owens! There aren’t many options. The ones that are worth it are already taken, the one that I want would never go for me. I don’t have many options!”

“AND WHEN AM I GONNA BE AN OPTION?!” He yells out, grabbing your wrists before you can hit him with the pillow again. “When do I get the chance to prove myself?”

“Oh stop.” You snap, moving to walk away. “Don’t mess with me about this.”

“Why would I be messing with you? Is it so hard to believe that I want you?” He follows, making sure to keep a hand on you. “Time and time again you rant to me about these men, how they suck and you hate them. And I keep waiting for you to notice me, to give me a chance. Cate tells me that you might just be nervous, or that our time will come but Sugar I don’t think I can survive this much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Your tone is gentle and you’ve given up walking away, choosing to turn to him and allow him a chance to talk. Your heart was thumping through your chest and you were struggling to catch your breath. 

“Sweetheart, from the moment I met you I’ve been stuck. Comin’ in with all that attitude like you owned the world, which if you ask me you do, and you didn’t hesitate to put me in my place.” He continues, moving closer to set his hands on your hips. “And I just kept begging the winds to give me a chance. To give me a single shot with you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you say anything?”

“Why would you give me a chance?” He laughs, pulling you in. “But I need one now. I’m begging you for a chance here.”

And though no words are spoken you both know the answer, especially when you pull him in with your hands on the back of his neck to attach your lips to his. And unlike the kiss in the bar this one felt perfect. 

There was awkwardness. He tilted his head perfectly, pulling you chest to chest as his hat covers both your heads while his lips melt against yours. He takes his time learning the kiss, his hands rubbing up and down your back as you deepen the kiss some more. This is what was meant to be and you both knew it at that moment. 

There is no objection when you begin unbuttoning his flannel, one at a time, never breaking the kiss as you push it off his shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor before he reaches a hand up to throw the hat closer to the nightstand. He doesn’t waste time after he hears the thump of it landing to reach and lift his undershirt off, throwing it somewhere else as he makes eye contact. 

“Please tell me I ain’t dreamin’ right now.” He whispers out as you begin to undo your own shirt to slip off before leaning up. 

“I can’t tell.” You whisper back, leaning on your tiptoes to attach your lips once more, his arms wrapping around you to undo the back of your bra. 

Normally when a man removes the bra it is thrown away and he doesn’t focus too much on any of it, but Tyler? He kisses around your jaw as he undoes the buckle of it before his kisses move down your neck while he drags the bra down until he can drop it, allowing his hands to roam. The feel of his hands sends shivers throughout you and yet they keep you warm as you try to back him to the bed. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure.” You whisper back, undoing his belt as he kicks off his boots. “I want you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you.” He grunts out, pulling you closer before falling back onto the bed and dragging you with him. 

-

“Yet he's naked in my room

Missin' all the things he's missin'

God knows that he isn't livin' large”

-

It doesn’t take long for you both to strip, slowly and gently, until you are both bare. He doesn’t waste time kissing you gently before guiding you up the bed until you’re leaning on the pillow you hadn’t dragged away, kissing along jaw as you sigh out in relief. 

He takes his time kissing down your neck, nipping a bit to pull out a breathy moan from your lips before moving further down to kiss and suck at your breasts. He grunts out at the way you wiggle, a breathy giggle passing your lips until a moan passes them the moment his tongue circles one of your nipples. The sound draws his eyes to yours and that sweet lovestruck look falls into one of ferocity, the heated light within them as your lower stomach tightening and your hands rushing to get some contact. 

Once your hands find purchase he abandons your breasts, leaving them cold to the air, as he makes his way further down. Every kiss is followed by a lick, every nip is given a bushel of kisses to make up for it. He works your body until he makes it to your thighs, spreading them open for him to view, sending a shiver across your body. 

“Tyler, please.” You gasp out, that tight feeling in your stomach begging for relief as your thighs beg to shut, but he is having none of it. Keeping them forced open so that he may give your inner thighs the same treatment he had given the rest of your body. 

He gives up his torture with a growl before diving straight in to lick right between your folds. He keeps his hands around your hips to keep you pinned to him when your back arches as you moan out loud. He devours you, licking and sucking over and over with grunts and growls to match your moans. 

He doesn’t relent until your moan hits near scream and your hands grip at the pillow, dragging it to your face to bite into as you reach your peak, entire body shuddering as you moan out. 

He continues until you come down, pulling away to give you the smuggest smile you had ever seen from him, your entire body ablaze as you sit up to reach for him. 

The other kisses were sweet and gentle, this one was two animals claiming each other. And he let you take charge, your speed and your lead. Tasting your own juices as you dragged him back down to lay over you. 

-

“A boy who's nice that breathes

I swear he's nowhere to be seen”

-

He’s quick to flip you both over so that he’s beneath you and you are on top, a wave of panic filling you. 

“Tyler….I’ve never-” You begin, hands landing on his chest as he gazes up at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen from him. 

“If you don’t want to then that’s fine, Sweetheart.” He mutters, reaching over to grab where his hat landed and bringing it to set on your head. “But you might just need a little confidence.” 

And he was right, with the way he was looking at you and the way the hat felt, suddenly you believed you could rule the world. So you lifted yourself a bit, keeping the gaze as you reached down to line yourself up to him, and with a loud moan you sunk yourself down. 

-

“It's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

His grunts were easily replaced by moans as you sunk down, his hands digging into your hips, letting you take a moment to adjust before guiding your hips slowly. You tilt your hips with each guide, struggling to catch the proper rhythm and getting pleasure nonetheless. 

A moan escapes you as he guides you down at the same time he thrusts up and it’s like something clicks as you begin to find your own rhythm. Using your hands on his chest to keep yourself stable as you begin to speed up your movements. 

Tyler gives in, enjoying your new pace, thrusting up into every bounce. Grunting and growling as his nails dig into your hips and he closes his eyes to enjoy the pleasure while you lean down to nip at his chest which makes him groan. “Darlin’...”

And that makes something inside of you burn, a feral moan passing your lips as you speed up, nails digging into his chest before he sits up to kiss you, helping you bounce on his cock with ease. 

“Y-you’re…” He groans. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

His arms wrap around you, and he readjusts so that he was on his knees to thrust into you, pulling you down to meet him. The sound of skin slapping is alluring and your thighs clench to cage him in as you lose your breath and shut your eyes. 

“Tyler.” You whine, nails digging into his back as something in you begins coiling, tighter and tighter until he bites down between your neck and shoulder and it all falls in an instant. All you can see is white as you bite down on your own lip, holding him tight to you as the waves of pleasure subside. 

He continues to thrust before falling under the same spell that had you, keeping his forehead pressed into your collarbone as he spills his cum into you. 

You both fall into the cushion of the bed, shuddering as he pulls out before closing your eyes to catch your breath from that experience. And when he wraps his arms around you it’s far too easy to fall asleep from his warmth surrounding you like a blanket of it’s own.

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

It’s the feeling of him moving that wakes you a couple hours later, when the bed dips as he stands, making you blink in the dark to see what he is doing. Apart of you panics that he might be leaving, and this was just going to be a one night stand until he pulls on his boxers and turns back to come lift you. 

“Why are we awake?” You croak, already feeling cranky at the fact that you had been woken up. 

“I figured you’d want to shower, and this is when I normally do.”

“You shower at 4am?” You scoff, clinging to him as he sets you down so your feet touch the cold bathroom floor. 

“Yeah. I figured out that no one else showers at this time-”

“Because it’s crazy.”

“Well since no one else showers at this time the water is always at its best pressure and warmth.” He explains, reaching in to turn it on. “Then I can get another hour or so of sleep.”

“Oddly genius.” You giggle, laughing when he shucks the boxers off as a pretend strip tease before hauling you into the shower with him. 

-

“Moanin' and bitchin'”

-

He takes his time washing your body, lathering the soap over your body with gentle hands as his eyes traced over you over and over again like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. 

He let you do the same, the only words spoken never went above a whisper so you didn’t break the bubble and shampooed eachother before shutting the water off and using the towel. 

When he swings the door open he makes sure to raise his eyebrows, a look of pride covering his face that makes you scoff. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“I wonder what hot scoundrel fixed that for you…”

“Hmmm. I wish I knew.” You tease, “I might have rewarded him.”

A small growl leaves his lips as he scoops you up and hauls you to the bed once more. 

-

“Since the good ones call their exes wasted

And since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin'

Then I'll just be here in the kitchen

Servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'”

-

You sit on the motel floor as Tyler works around you to get ready for the day, listening to you bitch and moan as he struggles to put his boots on. 

“I’m so sore.” You whine, falling flat on the floor to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah? At least you never have to worry about dying alone.”

“No,” You huff out a laugh. “Now I just have to worry about you killing me.” 

“Never.” He smiles, coming to haul you off the floor just to throw you over his shoulder and head for the door.

-

[planetpedri]

this is gonna make me sob into my pillow but #2 angst thingy with pedri 😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣

Peace — Pedri González.

Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader

Summary: Breaking up after a a three year long relationship had hurt you tremendously, but when Pedri had texted you that he got injured and wanted you to come to the hospital… well you couldn’t say no.

Word count: 1.47k+

Disclaimer/s: Based off the prompt ‘Hold me, please?’ , angst to comfort / fluff.

A/N: hi im on an angst kick don’t expect much happiness coming out of bea’s blog.

You reread and reread Pedri’s text. Over and over and.. you get the gist. You couldn’t help the pity that built in your heart, but you also couldn’t help the anger that arose along with it.

It had only been a week, for God’s sake. You’d broken up a week ago and the wound was still fresh. Angry thoughts clouded your mind the whole drive to the hospital, all the way up the elevator, to the door, but the second it opened and your eyes landed on the man you had folded.

Every rage filled feeling disappeared, replaced by the overwhelming urge to comfort him. You hold back, cautiously poking your head through the door. “Uh, can I come in?”

At one side of the bed was Pedri’s mother, only furthering to the awkwardness of it all. Seeing your ex and his mother a week after you’d broken up was not something you imagined happening, yet, here you were.

María stood, her eyes darting between her son and the woman she’d grown to adore so dearly. She had to fight the smirk threatening her lips when she saw the tension in her son’s shoulders depleting.

“I’m going to the cafeteria to find your father.” She says, patting Pedri’s head, “it’s nice to see you again.” She offers you a kind smile before rushing out of the room.

“You too..” You begin, but she was already long gone. Left alone in the depressing hospital room, you find your gaze drifting to his leg. “Jesus..” You mumble.

Pedri doesn’t say anything, simply letting out a quiet hum of acknowledgment. He watches you carefully as you make your way to the side of his bed.

“I don’t.. I don’t really know what to, uhm—“ You were grasping at straws for something to say. Nothing came to mind, causing a flush to spread across your cheeks along with a nervous laugh.

The tan man couldn’t help the way his eyes softened and the small, barely noticeable smile of his lips. He’d missed you. Everything about you, he had missed. The breakup of course, was his fault. He been so stressed with football that he’d taken it out on you, saying things he didn’t mean but couldn’t take back.

“You don’t have to say anything.” He speaks, wearily. He wanted so badly for you to just look at him, he didn’t blame you for avoiding it, though.

“I feel like I probably should, I mean.. this is..” You were once again, at a loss for words. “I’m so sorry, this sucks.” Pathetic. That was pathetic.

Pedri was unfortunately, very injury prone. You’d been in this position many times, but this was different. You couldn’t rush to his side, you couldn’t shower him in apologetic kisses, you couldn’t do the things you used to. And those were the only ways you knew how to comfort him.

Your legs brushed against the hospital bedsheets, when you remember. “Oh! Shit, I almost forgot, I set them down outside the door because I wasn’t sure if they would be appropriate right now.. Wait, I’ll be right back.” And just like that, you were gone, leaving Pedri completely and utterly confused.

When you returned, you had a blanket and, what you’d called the ‘designated hospital hoodie’ in your hands. He recognized them instantly. Your favorite hoodie of his, and the blanket you’d used specifically on the nights he’d stay over and the two of you would fall asleep on the couch.

“I figured it would get cold in here, it always does.” You gingerly hand him the items, freezing when his fingers brushed against yours.

Pedri froze as well, his eyes snapping up to you. “Sorry, uhm, thank you. Seriously.”

“It’s no problem.” You cough, “so! How are you? How bad is it?”

Shaking his head with a tired sigh, Pedri winced as he scoots over on the bed, his jaw clenching as he does. “Joder. [fuck] ” He hisses in Spanish, taking a second to speak again, “you can.. sit down y’know?”

Hesitantly sitting onto the uncomfortable mattress, your eyebrows furrow, “you shouldn’t be moving so much.” You scold, easily slipping back into your old concerned girlfriend mode. “How many times do I have to remind you there are plenty of chairs I can sit on?”

“And how many times do I have to remind you, that I prefer you closer?” He rebutted, the both of you pausing when you realize you weren’t allowed to do this back and forth anything.

But, you shrug the feeling off. Despite how things had ended, you loved Pedri. You cared for him. He was hurting, and you were not about to make him hurt any more by opening up the wounds that were still fresh.

“Well, your comfort is a bit more important than your wants.” You crack a small grin, “how did surgery go?”

Pedri huffs through a painful exhale. “I don’t want to talk about medical shit anymore. I’ve had to deal with my families badgering all day…” He hesitates before continuing, “I know this is overstepping, but could you just.. lay down? You don’t have—“

“I’d lay down if you weren’t hogging all the pillows.” You tease, “move your big head.” Shifting around to a sitting position beside him, you wiggle around till the thin blankets were out from under you and on top of you.

He laughs, the sound sweet and welcoming to your ears. You turn your head to the side, meeting his eyes directly for the first time since you stepped into the room. “This is only mildly weird.”

“Yeah.” He agrees, taking the blanket you’d brought and spreading it out over the two of you. “Another boundary crossing question…?”

“I don’t see why not.” You swallow, not knowing what was about to come out of your ex’s mouth.

“Hold me?” He asks with the saddest eyes, “please?”

Listen, you were no fool. You knew your actions would have consequences. This simple act was going to either lead to your heart breaking even more, or potentially causing you to go against your morals and allow forgiveness.

You couldn’t get yourself to speak, instead, you lift your arm to wrap around the back of his neck and your hand came up to rest on his head. Pedri automatically relaxes against your shoulder, letting out a long breath of relief.

You stay like that for a while, your fingers threading through his soft hair while the other hand occupied on his cheek, it’s fingers rubbing smoothly back and forth along his cheekbone. It had always been the way you calmed him down when he was upset. The familiarity tugged at your heart strings and in that moment you didn’t care how badly this was going to hurt you, you only cared it would make him feel better.

Plus, he always told you how much peace he felt when he was in your arms, and thats all you wanted him to feel in the moment.

“Pedri?” You quietly beckon him to look at you, which he does. His eyes fluttered open and a small hum leaves his lips. “You know I can’t stay..”

He tries to hide his disappointment, but you knew him too well. “I understand. Sorry, I shouldn’t have even asked you to come, I know I hurt you.”

“Hurt is one way to put it.” You quirk an eyebrow, hiding the genuine words behind a teasing grin.

His eyes flicker around your face, noticing every crack in your expression. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean the things I said. I can do better, I will.”

“That’s not enough. The things you said.. Pedri, I can’t just forget them.” Exasperated and ready for the conversation to end, you tap his head. “Just lay back down.”

Pedri shakes his head, “no, we need to talk—I need to talk about this! I don’t want you to forget, just hold me accountable and give me another chance.” His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. “Please, cariño.”

That stupid, stupid, stupid pet name. The only one you ever really loved when it left his lips.

“Can we talk about this when you’re not suffering from an injury? Like, what, two months? When your head is clear, and i’ve had time to get over what you said.. you call me. Then, we can talk about it.” You push his head back onto your shoulder and rest yours against his hair.

“Okay. Two months?” Pedri’s hand that had wrapped around your waist, dips under your shirt, rubbing slow circles. “I can do that.”

Pressing a short kiss to his hair, you hum. “I’ll leave when your mom comes back. Don’t text me or contact me till those two months are up, got it?”

Pedri groaned, “nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any pedri posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @hrts4havertz @joaoflms @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl @unx100to !

[lilybug-02]

I mean, if you make some more of Dewi's adventures, I'll probably make music based off it. There's just something about your art style or your writing that really flips a switch in my head. Case in point- I reread your "Lost and Lucky" comic and came up with this.

I don't know, it was like, looking at your comic, it was obvious what instruments I would choose, how they would merge together, etc etc. You make it a lot easier than it usually is for me to create music based off of characters, stories, etc.

You're really inspiring, and my vote is definitely for a hollow knight sequel, partly for the selfish reason of wanting to make more music based off your art. Hope you liked my little piece!

Okay, again, I am so so sorry for the late response. I've been looking at this for DAYS trying to find the right words to express just how beautiful and kind this is. Genuinely still cannot understand how awesome it is that my work inspired you so much to compose music and draw an amazing fan art. And like AHHHHHH OH MY GOD. The bell tone of the song mixed with string instruments is so precious. It gives me the impression of a what a background song would sound like while reading it like a children's book. And then the artwork. OFIbaklsj dbgkfjabdfgfasdf its so cute. they are HUGGING. LIKE

I just. AHHHHH Seriously wanted to thank you. This is so cool. And I am totally making a Dewi Part 2! <3 Just for u

[helslastangel]

Yeah I think when it comes to men and their big 6 placements the only water sign i like being around is Cancer. Especially Cancer + Sagittarius or Cancer + Leo heavy charts. Pisces would be cool if they didn't sit back like lazy Greek philosophers and make me do the chasing, big ick ... I'm the woman here, jeez. But Scorpio just makes me downright uncomfortable and exhausted.

Every word I say to Scorpio sun, moon, mars, or Mercury men just gets taken so far out of context or interpreted in the most intense and negative or weird way possible with SO many words put in my mouth that I did not say. It's like trying to date a criminal lawyer who has been hired to defend anyone BUT you. Constantly have to be clarifying, and correcting, you start thinking of disclaimers for everything you say and holding back because you could tell a man with heavy Scorpio placements that you don't like chocolate ice cream, and instead of saying "Oh really? Aww that's a shame I love it" or "lmao I hate it too" like a fucking normal person they gotta say some shit like "oh so do you think that maybe you have some subconscious conditioning against the darkest flavor of ice cream because of how society treats minorities? It seems you might have some self-hatred going on, you should work on that"

Like... seriously dawg? No. It's ice cream. Chocolate is a flavor I merely do not like in ice cream. What in the Wattpad-reddit-pilled world is wrong with you?

And yes I'm generalizing in this moment cuz this kind of shit has happened with every Scorpio sun/moon/mercury/mars and occasionally venus I've ever dealt with. For a very long time.

It seems to be less common with Scorpio risings, thank God. They get the whole cool dark aura without the rest of this shit.

Now I'm kind of worried that I come off like this to other people as a Scorpio Venus even though that is the only Scorpio placement in my personal planets (my other placements are in Jupiter, Pluto, Node, and Juno).

I do experience this a tiny bit with Scorpio-heavy women too but honestly not nearly as heavy-handed with it. I can be friends with Scorpio-dominant women. I need frequent breaks and maybe couldn't handle dating one but it's not even half as draining at all.

Scorpio placement women seem to know how to dole this shit out in doses or raise the heat slowly. Like imagine being a frog; a Scorpio-heavy woman will put you in a little pot and turn up the heat slowly so at least by the time you're cooked you're already dead tbh like it's the definition of being killed softly but Scorpio-heavy men will just boil the water in the back while you're happily ribbiting on their shoulder having no idea they're about to yeet you into the pot with a sling slot. Like man if you don't put me back on my lilypad and leave me alone

I love my Cancer + fire sign men, they're just moody and whiny and respond to food and belly rubs like cats. I can deal with that.

I'm just really annoyed rn sorry y'all 😘

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hi blusy!! i have a G!P donna request to make...

following the canon events of resident evil village, ethan winters went to the beneviento estate to search for his daughter rose and comes across reader, donna's maid who is appointed to take care of the young winters for the the time being. donna, for some reason (i dunno what, you can fill this one kwnsisjsj) wasn't in the manor that time and so ethan didn't experience the hallucinations like he did in the game. ethan, relieved that he can finally get back his daughter, tries to talk the reader into handing her over. (just to be clear, rose is not in the jar like in the game. rose is actually still intact, like her actual baby body is there and reader is taking care of her) reader refused to do so but ethan insists. without any choice left, reader tries to run away from him, which enraged ethan. he chased reader around the manor, easily overpowering her since reader is not experienced in combat / donna felt like there was no need since she's just the maid.

(she's not actually just a maid because she's intimate with donna and they did have sex before... but donna is stubborn and won't confront her own feelings up to this point.)

when donna finally got home, she found reader cowering on one corner, covered in blood (not her blood but ethan's because she tries to fight him off) while ethan was on the verge of stabbing her to death with scissors.

so uhh.... i think you know what will happen next to ethan (hint: not so good) donna ignored his corpse and went straight to taking care of reader. reader assures her that she's fine and that the blood is not hers so donna calms down for a bit.

and thennnn yeah, smut time!!! :D

donna, terrified and pissed at the thought of almost losing reader to winters, calmed herself down by touching reader for a while. just touching, you know, the silly hands around the waist thing and whatever. but realizing that ethan touched reader way too much than she liked, even to the point of ruining reader's dress that she made herself, donna was pissed once more... and possessive. (wink wink)

Yesss!!! I hope it wasn't too dark... Thank you for request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

Her hidden heart

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut at the end, Minors DNI, dark themes, dark Donna, mental health issues, possessiveness, Donna being Donna, fluff, seriously, this is dark...

Word count: 8,543

Summary: She doesn't talk about her feelings, she will never do it...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

To say that you, or any maid in the village, were born to serve would be a lie.

The Black Gods ordered your life as they saw fit, often without taking into account stupid dreams or ambitions. You could have complained, protested, but you didn't. Being a maid wasn’t in your plans, but, you had no other plans.

You were a young girl. At 21 years old, nature gave you gifts that were apparently useless and that you found difficult to recognize: beauty, sweetness, kindness, goodness... all of those were characteristics that were possible separately, but never together in a single person.

You weren’t special, but you were strange.

None of your friends felt good about having to leave their home to work in the castle. You, however, accepted your fate in an optimistic way, without protest. After all, you weren’t leaving the village. You weren’t abandoning your family.

You would do it because you accepted your destiny; you accepted that the Black Gods granted you those skills, that beauty solely to serve.

What you didn’t expect was that you wouldn’t live surrounded by girls your age, dealing every day with Lady Dimitrescu and her eccentric whims. It took you a long time to get used to the idea of ​​being her maid, but the plans didn’t go as you wanted.

The castle wouldn’t become your home, but a place of passage for your next destiny, one that you didn’t believe possible. You wouldn’t serve the oldest Lord, but the youngest.

You could not reject that proposition, because it was what the Gods had in store for you.

Your destination was the forest, it was that dark mansion guarded by a waterfall, it was the house of the most mysterious Lord, of the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

The lady in black received you in silence, without saying a word, assuming that you already knew what you would have to do. In part you did know, and you let yourself be carried away by the inertia of what would be your profession, obeying in silence.

Every day, every night was the same in that place. Nothing changed, perhaps the shrill voice of the doll Angie had new words for you, but that figure in mourning continued walking like a ghost at your side, as if you didn’t even exist.

Comfort wasn’t exactly the word you had in mind when defining your stay at the estate, but discomfort wasn’t either. The days, the weeks passed quickly, like a blink, revealing only a glimpse of that black shadow.

Sometimes you wondered what would have happened if everything had remained the same, if nothing had changed; a heavy and annoying thought that you tried to push out of your head.

You barely knew the lady, no one was lucky enough to do so. You had heard horrible things, rumors, exaggerated descriptions, but none of that was comparable to seeing that black veil dance when she passed by you.

Donna was a taciturn, discreet woman, who refused to acknowledge that you were there even if she had asked for it. Luckily, your thoughts about an eternal routine were completely wrong.

Your elegant “my lady” was, with the first words you heard from the lady, transformed into a simple “Donna.” It could be an insignificant change.

Hearing that hoarse voice for the first time could have been a mistake, a small detail or a thank you gift for your work, but nothing of the sort. That melodic whisper was only the spark that lit a long fuse of events.

First her voice, then her face.

She didn't take off her veil in front of you. She didn't show you her beauty as an act of friendship or trust, no. Donna simply got up that morning and didn't bother to cover herself. She would never do that again.

Her words were more eager to come out of her lips and her single eye scrutinized your reaction to an act that seemed casual and natural. It wasn't.

Showing her face wasn't a reward for your work, but rather a test, the last one the lady needed in order, according to Angie, not to get rid of your annoying presence. Of course you only flattered her beauty despite her distrust of your words.

Yes, she was beautiful, terribly beautiful. That deformity on her face was only part of a capricious gift from the Black Gods, the price to pay for eternal life and the protection of Mother Miranda. At least that's how she saw it.

They were cold, trivial conversations, but more frequent. Talking to the lady allowed you to get to know her better, learn her tastes, some of her concerns. Maybe showing up before you was a test, but you were sure that talking to you, even with that cold tone, was not.

For a young and deluded girl like you, it wasn’t difficult to start feeling something for Donna. Her rare smile, the sparkle in her eye, her hair as black as night, her thin and apparently soft hands…

She was a strange woman. Her mind was damaged, loneliness danced around her like a sinister shadow, but you were always good at dancing to the tune of that melody of laments and tragedies.

As time went by, that beautiful smile was much more frequent, the cold conversations didn’t heat up, but they didn’t stop either. A relationship of trust wasn’t enough for those moments alone in which words sometimes flowed, and other times you just looked at each other in silence.

First her voice, then her face, her body.

If you had to give a reason for that afternoon in the workshop, you couldn't do it. Without warning, without being aware of the strange gleam in her eye, the words turned into kisses. They weren't sweet, they weren't tender; they were wild, desperate. You fulfilled one of your wishes, yes, you kissed the woman you had loved for more than a year.

It wasn't the beginning of something, it wasn't the beginning of a romantic relationship, it was a wish half fulfilled. Those deep, anxious kisses weren't covered in love, they weren't accompanied by confessions, only by gasps, only by eagerness to take you.

You realized that it wasn't just her face that was the victim of the Gods' games, that this gift from Mother Miranda brought with it a change in her body that could very well seem like a mockery to poor, lonely Donna.

You didn't care what the lady's last secret was, the cruel game that gave her body an unexpected and isolated change. You were a maid and you wanted to do it, you wanted to let yourself go, let her take you roughly at the table, take your innocence and finally claim you as hers.

Not a whisper, not a declaration, none of that accompanied Donna's carnal desires. She simply took what she wanted, what was hers, when she wanted, how she wanted.

Any maid would have accepted her fate, put her body at her mistress's disposal without thinking, without asking for explanations, without asking or wondering. Not you.

You weren’t capable of considering yourself an object, a toy, a doll that Donna played with whenever she wanted. You had a hard time seeing it that way. You knew it wasn't that way.

Her kisses were sometimes hurried, other times they were slow and careful. The silence was only overshadowed by her moans, by yours, but not by words, at least, not always by words. Not wanting to accept your destiny as a sexual doll for the lady, you began to analyze those encounters, the coldness that seemed to fade from her voice.

You were madly in love with Donna, but that didn't mean she felt the same, although, refusing to believe it, you began to look for signs that proved you were wrong.

You found much more than you expected. Her caresses were infrequent, but warm, curious. Outside of passion it wasn’t common for her to kiss you, but it wasn’t something that never happened.

The most beautiful smile in the world, hers, began to appear at very specific moments, in those moments when Donna thought you weren't looking at her.

Like a child's game, she had fun loving you secretly, you were convinced of it. You wanted to hear it with her words, you wanted her to tell you everything you knew she felt, but you were never able to do it.

Donna kept her feelings behind a hard door of cold steel; she refused to share them with you.

 The coldness became a silent shield for the voices of her heart, although it was clumsy, it had cracks. It was as if she didn’t want to let herself be carried away by what she felt, as if loving you was a mistake or a danger.

Her defenses faltered from time to time, giving you kisses, glances, whispers, but soon they returned, soon the huge door that guarded her heart would close again and her face would become stoic, expressionless.

Without fear of losing, of making mistakes, living for more than a year like that, letting her take you, enjoying her body while she did it with yours, thinking, or rather, making you believe that it was her right for being your lady, your mind set a new goal.

You would only have to be patient, study the steel door well, those feelings the lady showed without wanting to, and, with a little luck, be able to find the key, use it, and throw it far away so that it couldn’t be closed again.

“Ouch!” you screamed that morning, that morning when everything became strange.

You were cleaning, as always, standing on a stool to be able to remove the decades of dust from a shelf. Due to clumsiness or lack of care, you tripped, falling to the floor abruptly.

“(Y/N),” the lady in black said, running to your body, with an expression of concern that made you sketch a smile. “Oddio... are you okay?” she asked, crouching down beside you, helping you sit up.

“Yeah… it was a stupid fall,” you said in a sweet voice, the only voice you could have with her. “Thanks, Donna.”

The lady nodded slowly, checking that you hadn't been hurt, with a look of concern that delighted your mind, with a softness and warmth in her gestures that revealed her feelings were exposed. Her eye locked with yours for a moment, her face relaxed, but soon after she frowned again, turning away and clearing her throat.

“Um... be more careful, will you?” Donna said with contempt, not helping you up. “A crippled maid is of no use to me.”

“I'm sorry,” you said with flushed cheeks, smiling at the clumsiness with which she closed her mouth, with which she tried to pretend that, to her, you were just that, a maid. “I'll be more careful next time.”

“Fine,” she whispered, crossing her arms and looking away. “I have to go to an important meeting today, (Y/N). I hope to have the house clean by the time I get back… um, I mean, if you can…”

“Of course, Donna, don't worry,” you said with a smile, with that radiant smile you were blessed with and that caused some nervousness in your mistress.

Nodding briefly, the lady and her doll left the mansion without saying goodbye, looking at you shortly before closing the door, looking at you through the veil that hid her beauty, but also those expressions she was ashamed of.

What you didn't imagine was what would happen later, when the lady and doll returned.

“Gods, what is that?” you asked when the lady came back, with Angie not being her only company.

Donna frowned, looking at what she was carrying in her arms, approaching without saying a single word and handing it to you.

In your arms you had a baby, a baby of no more than a year old who looked at you with curiosity. You knew that anything could happen at meetings, but you didn't expect that.

“Don't you see, you silly maid?” Angie said, walking towards you. “It's a baby.”

“Um, I know it's a baby,” you said nervously, holding the girl in your arms and looking at the lady, who coldly, as always, took off her veil without paying attention. “But… But…”

“Her name is Rose,” Angie said, pointing at the girl who was writhing in your arms.

You were nervous and confused, and with good reason.

“Rose?” you asked, looking for Donna with your eyes.

The doll maker sighed, resting her hands on a table, as if she were thinking about her answer. A million possible explanations began to pass through your mind, each one more terrible than the last.

“Donna…”  you whispered, approaching her slowly. “Who is this child? Is she your daughter?” you asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

She turned around, shaking her head, with a nervous, cold expression.

“No,” she answered with an annoyed whisper. “She's not mine.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, biting your lip as the baby squirmed in your arms. “Who is she? Why do you bring her with you?”

“You're nosy, huh?” Angie hissed, as the lady, absentmindedly, poured herself a glass of wine.

She seemed nervous, much more nervous than usual.

You could see the trembling of her hands, her lost gaze. Even, if you concentrated hard enough, you were sure you could hear the thoughts roaring in her mind.

“I'm not nosy, I just don't understand who this baby is and why it's here,” you said looking at the doll while Donna dropped into a chair, with a hand on her forehead. “Donna, what's going on?”

She drank and then looked at you with disinterest, indicating with your gaze for you to come closer. You did it unsurely, calming the imminent crying of the baby.

“Mother Miranda believes that this child is the key to the resurrection of her daughter,” the brunette explained while you sat next to her. “Preparing the ritual takes time and she couldn't take care of her.”

“Gods…” you sighed, cradling the baby. “Who are the parents? Are they from the village?”

“No,” she answered, looking away with a tired gesture. “Don't… ask so many things, ho mal di testa.”

“I'm sorry,” you apologized, looking closely at the girl who moved in your arms. “This is so strange… Don’t you know who her parents are?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Shut up, stop asking stupid questions, (Y/N),” Donna protested, pouring herself another drink and sighing, closing her eye to relax. “You don’t want to know.”

Deep down you knew what that meant. That girl wasn’t from the village and her parents, of course, weren’t either.

Living with Donna had given you certain knowledge about the priestess, about her tireless search, about the methods she would be capable of using to get what she wanted.

“This is going too far… Kidnapping a child…” you murmured, cradling the baby, deducing for yourself where the little girl came from. “Poor parents… it’s unfair.”

Donna looked at you with a sad look, nodding as she played with her glass.

“Yes, it is,” she said in a low voice, emptying the wine into her throat and shaking her head. “I know what you're thinking and no, it's not my fault.”

“I didn't say it was,” you said, leaning towards the lady, who seemed terribly nervous and repentant.

In the village they could say that her heart was evil, that she had a black soul, but you, over time, discovered that it wasn't like that. Donna wasn’t that way by nature, the tragedies of her family, the loneliness... All of that turned her into a puppet in the hands of Miranda.

Knowing that the kidnapping of a little girl was something that visibly bothered her relieved your heart, made you feel less guilty for loving her.

“In fact, it's your fault” she said, with a more common tone, pointing at you with her finger.

“Mine?” you asked surprised, arching your eyebrows.

Donna nodded, crossing her arms.

“It seems that your skills as a maid have spread throughout the village and Miranda thought to leave the care of Rose to you appropriate . According to her, she is much better off with you than in the castle.”

“Oh, I don't know how to take that,” you said with a fake smile, comforting the little girl's moans. “Shh, don't cry...”

“Angie, bring the bag,” the lady ordered, to which the doll, who was comically watching the baby, agreed grumbling and bringing a small backpack from the entrance. “Everything is here, I trust you know how to take care of her.”

“Yes, of course, before coming here I used to take care of my nephew and...” you said nodding and accepting the task without asking any more absurd questions. “Um, I think we need to change her,” you said with a grimace of disgust. “Are there diapers in there?”

“I don't know, check it yourself,” Donna said with the same unpleasant face, getting up from the chair with a tired sigh, with a pained expression and a hand on her forehead. “I'm going to the workshop. “

“Oh, okay,” you said, disappointed at not being able to keep up even one more stupid word with her. “Do you need something?”

“No, lasciami estare.”

That day she didn't seem to be in a good mood, and you knew it was best to leave her alone.

 Donna would have to wait. You had something more important to take care of at that moment. Carefully you cleaned little Rose, in silence, thinking who the unfortunate parents were, why Miranda, protector of the village, would do something like that to an innocent family.

Questions in that place were dangerous and besides, Donna trusted you

“That's it... now little Rose is clean... you like being, don't you?” you said talking to the baby with Angie, without knowing anything about the brunette.

“Gross,” the doll protested as you got rid of the trash and the little girl writhed playfully on a table. “How long is she going to be shitting herself?”

“Angie, it’s a baby,” you said, frowning and picking up the little girl, cradling her in your arms. “We all have been.”

“No, not me, silly,” the puppet said, sitting next to you on the couch. “I’m a more evolved specimen than that poop machine.”

You laughed, shaking your head and watching the hallway, not sure you wanted Donna to come back, not when the thin line of her sanity was so weak in the face of madness.

“Rose, mm? Rose or Rosemary?” you asked the baby, who was playing with your necklace, the necklace Donna gave you some time ago.

According to her, it was a mark, a proof that you were hers. The fact that the gold chain mysteriously coincided with your birthday was, according to your mistress, a stupid coincidence.

“You should read her a bedtime story,” the puppet suggested, making you frown in amusement.

“Wow, Angie, that’s a good idea,” you said, surprised, while Angie and you watched the little girl, who seemed restless. “Find me a story, will you? Oh, and… there isn’t a crib in the house, is there? She can’t sleep anywhere.”

“Yes, yes, there is one in the basement, come, come silly,” Angie said, getting off the couch and leading you.

With the little girl asleep, the day ended.

That day was definitely not the best for Donna. Many times, almost every night, she would take you in silence, falling asleep beside you in the bedroom, not asking you to leave. It could be because loving you was an exhausting task, but once again, Donna didn't know how to hide her true intentions.

Under the sheets, with your bodies naked and exhausted, she pretended to sleep, pretended that her arms around you were a product of the inertia of sleep and not a desperate gesture to maintain contact with you.

You knew when she was sleeping, when she was awake. Those arms, those soft caresses in your hair while she watched you, believing that you were sleeping didn't mean anything of what she wanted you to see, but quite the opposite.

You never dared to play with her, to make her see that her attempts to be stubborn and insensitive stopped working a long time ago. You didn't dare, the fear of discovering that perhaps her sick mind made her behave like that, that she really didn't feel anything for you was the worst of your fears, although you were completely convinced that it wasn't like that.

 That night there were no hugs, no cuddling under the sheets.

You enjoyed those caresses, those kisses that meant nothing, that sometimes didn’t lead to passion, to her eagerness to take you. She closed the bedroom door, thus indicating to you that she didn’t want your company.

It was the first night you slept alone in a long time, but the circumstances were delicate, little Rose had been too abrupt and unexpected a change, which surely unbalanced the lady's sanity, you didn't know to what extent.

“Oh, what is this? A cow... what does a cow do, little Rose?” you said, playing with the girl the next day, while Donna was having breakfast.

She didn't even look at you or talk to you, that day, that morning, she went back in time, pretending you didn't exist.

The girl hit the old book you were holding with her hand, a children's book full of pleasant drawings. You didn't know what that poor baby had been through, but, above all, you didn't want the shadows of the village to haunt her, not before... Miranda took her away.

Rose laughed, innocent, unaware of the uncertain fate that awaited her. Donna looked at you out of the corner of her eye, smiling, pretending that you couldn't see her, even though you did and your face, subtly, smiled back at her.

“Oh, you want some of (Y/N)'s delicious mashed apples, right?” you said, closing the book. “Angie, can you help me?”

“Aye,” the doll said, fulfilling your request without any protest.

The doll was unpredictable, sometimes she was a devil from hell, and other times she was as cute as a teddy bear. It seemed that little Rose's presence didn't bother her at all, quite the opposite of her owner, who seemed even more absent.

When the girl finished eating, you made a great effort to try to get her to sleep, but you were distracted by the lady, who approached slowly, sitting on the armchair in front of you, watching in silence.

You looked at her tenderly and she did so coldly, but also with a spark of curiosity.

“She's an adorable girl,” you commented after a few minutes of tense silence. “She's very good.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, disinterested, looking away.

“Do you want to hold her?” you offered, bringing the girl a little closer.

The brunette moved her arms exaggeratedly, shaking her head with a grimace of disgust.

“No, take her away from me,” she said with a childish hiss.

“Mm, Donna is so mean, huh? She doesn't want to play with little Rose,” you said amused, watching the girl smile at your comical voice. “Well, never mind, you should sleep now.”

“You're good at it,” she commented with a relaxed gesture, tilting her head to watch you cradle the baby.

“Yes, I already told you that I used to take care of my nephew,” you said, looking at her briefly, with that sweet smile that didn't usually leave your face. “Babies aren't a problem for me.”

“Mm,” she murmured again, looking away.

Seeing Rose's face, how sweet and tender she was, you began to fantasize, to imagine scenarios that were previously unthinkable, to imagine a future with Donna, a real one, one in which you weren’t her maid, in which the whispers of love lasted all day, in which those words, those three words that you so longed to hear, ran through your ears.

You were so engrossed in the baby, so hopelessly in love with Donna, that you stopped having control of your thoughts, and also of your words.

“You know what? I've been thinking,” you murmured, cradling the girl, letting yourself be carried away by your emotions. “I wouldn't mind having one of these.”

“Mm? Di che cosa stai parlando?” the lady asked, blinking and frowning.

“Well, I'm talking about this, about a baby,” you sighed, playing with the girl to distract her with your hand. “Can you imagine? A baby, our baby…”

“What?” Donna asked in an unpleasant tone, shaking her head. “You can't be serious.”

“Why not? I've been here with you for over a year, and… well, I always wanted to start a family and…” you stammered, regretting having let your feelings speak for themselves.

“Are you crazy? Don't talk nonsense, (Y/N),” she said, sighing in disbelief.

“Nonsense?” you asked, in a sad tone. “Wanting to have a child with you is nonsense? You and me…”

“You and me, what? Huh? You and me what!? The woman asked in a cold, nervous tone, fixing her bright eye on yours, increasing the volume of her voice.

“Shh, don't talk that loud,” you said, calming Rose's nervousness, and your own. “Donna, stop pretending that I'm just a maid to you, I know that's not the case.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, with a mocking smile. “You know… what? Stop making things up, (Y/N). You are my maid, that's all.”

“That's not true,” you said, with an involuntary hiss. “You know that's not true.”

“You're stupid, (Y/N),” Donna growled, getting up abruptly from the chair. “I'm going to make one thing clear to you, stupid maid. You are mine, you serve me. If I want to fuck you, I do it, if I want to ignore you, I do it. You are here to serve me, to meet my needs, nothing else, do you understand?”

“Why are you so stubborn?” you asked, raising your tone as well. “Look at yourself. You can't even believe your own words and… don't say those things in front of the girl, Donna.”

“You dare to give me orders?” he asked, approaching in a threatening manner. “Stop dreaming about babies and stupid ideas about our relationship. There is no such relationship, do you hear me? I don't love you... you are my doll, my toy, nothing else.”

“You can say whatever you want. I know it's not true,” you said, looking down, with a serious expression, not feeling the slightest pain for her words, you knew they weren't true. “Deny it to yourself the times you want, Donna.”

“I think you've gotten too close to me, stupid...” the lady hissed, looking down, staring her anger into your eyes. “Have a child with you? Don't be an idiot, I would never have a baby with a stupid maid like you,” she growled madly, with her hands shaking, losing control little by little.

“You're shaking, Donna, and do you know why? Because you're lying, because those insults hurt you much more than they do to me, because you would do anything before admitting your feelings,” you said defiantly, trying to keep the girl calm.

“I should never have hired you,” she whispered dangerously.

You, who were determined to face her hard wall, kept your composure, a defiant face, equal to her false madness, her false claims.

“That's the only thing you've sincerely said,” you murmured. “You know why? Because it hurts you, it hurts you that a stupid maid like me has stolen your heart; it hurts you to recognize that behind that powerful and feared Lord there is a soul wanting to be loved.”

“Shut up,” Donna hissed, breathing with more difficulty. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” she yelled furiously, kicking the floor angrily, causing little Rose to start crying. “Ugh, make her shut up! Shut that stupid brat up!”

“Stop yelling, you're scaring her,” you said nervously, trying to calm the baby, who was crying inconsolably.

“Vaffanculo,” the lady said, turning abruptly and cowardly fleeing the scene.

The tears couldn’t help but run down your cheeks as you calmed Rose's crying. It wasn’t the first time you insinuated something like that, that you wanted to make her understand that what she believed didn’t matter, that there was something between you, something intense, something strong. Donna was too stubborn and you were too in love.

Of course, she had never been so abrupt with you. Maybe she was telling the truth, and you were nothing to her.

“She's a very stubborn woman,” you said to yourself. “Why is it so hard for her to admit what she feels? Gods...”

A little while later, when Rose managed to calm down, the lady returned with a different look, one that wasn't directed at you.

Donna, without saying a word, dropped down next to you on the couch, looking at the baby, who was struggling to fall asleep. You, feigning annoyance, moved your body away from hers a little, pretending that those words didn't hurt you, that you were strong.

“May I?” she asked after a few tense minutes, extending her hands towards the baby.

You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye, nodding, unable to suppress a smile.

“Be careful with her head... that's it...” you said in a sweet voice, handing the baby to the lady, who took it unsurely, following the guide you made with your hands in hers. “That's it…”

The brunette looked at the girl and then at you, cradling the baby slowly, with a close, but at the same time very far from reality look.

“Say hello, Rose, hello…” you said with a loving voice, calming the girl's nervousness due to those unknown arms. “It's Donna, honey, say hello, Donna…”

The lady sketched a smile, and then sighed very deeply.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N),” she whispered with a bit of pride. “I'm sorry for speaking to you that way.”

You looked at her, nodding to accept her apology.

“I have nothing to forgive you for, I know you didn't mean it,” you said with a tender voice, enjoying the view you had of Donna with the baby.

“No, of course I didn’t,” she murmured with a shy stammer. “You're not stupid.”

“Sometimes I think I am,” you sighed, helping Donna keep Rose in a comfortable position. “You know how I feel about you. You know I love you, right?”

Donna looked away with a strange, bewildered expression.

“I just don't understand you, Donna,” you said again, shaking your head. “You think I don't notice what you do. You think I don't know that you caress me when I sleep, that you whisper in my ear, that you smile at me when you think I'm not looking… I'm afraid you're not that good at hiding what you feel.”

“I don't…” she said, regretting talking and controlling her breathing. “It's not that easy, (Y/N).”

“Of course it is,” you said with a hopeful smile, reaching out your hand to guide her face, her gaze, to yours. “Donna, just tell me, say what you feel. Tell me I'm not a toy for you, tell me because otherwise... I'll end up going crazy.”

The lady lowered her eye, pressing her lips together, letting a tear roll down her cheek, starting to sob.

“You are not a toy,” she said with a broken voice. “You, you are…”

“Yes, come on, tell me, my love,” you insisted, seeing, for the first time, her defenses falter. “Your gaze says it, but your words remain silent, why, Donna?”

“Don’t you understand? You don’t know what it’s like for someone like you to tell me those things, to look at me that way. You don’t understand that it’s hard for me to accept that someone loves me just the way I am… I want to believe you, but, but I can’t… they, they don’t let me, they say that you will leave and…” she said nervously, blinking uncontrollably, being immediately comforted by your caresses.

Slowly, you approached her lips, placing a different kiss on them, one that she didn’t ask for, one that came from the depths of your heart. She sobbed, but her lips kissed yours too, slowly, without saying anything, but saying everything at the same time.

“Shh, Donna… my Donna…” you whispered in a tender voice, with your hand running over her cheek, wiping away her tears, touching her scar.

“Don't do that,” she interrupted, shaking her head, embarrassed.

“I like everything about you, Donna, everything,” you said in a tender voice, looking into her eyes, at her sad and weak expression.

Maybe, finally, you could get that confession you so longed to hear from her lips.

“If it's true that you don't love me, look me in the eyes and tell me, I promise to accept it, I promise not to abandon you if you do, I will always be faithful to you, my love, no matter what you feel.”

“I can't do that,” the brunette murmured, shaking her head.

“Why?” you insisted.

“Because I'd be lying,” she finally said, handing Rose back to you, breathing nervously at that veiled confession. “(Y/N), I…”

A horrible noise, the intrusive ringing of the phone interrupted the most anticipated moment of your life. Her gaze lowered repentant, and her eye begged for your silent forgiveness.

“Go,” you said with an understanding smile, putting Rose in her little crib. “I've been waiting for this conversation for a long time. I can wait a little longer.”

Donna nodded, kissing the back of your hand quickly, like a different gesture, one that said she wouldn't change her mind soon, as it always used to happen when she was close to admitting her feelings.

“Pronto,” she said, picking up the phone, looking at you out of the corner of her eye with a sad smile that you returned.

“Cosa?” Donna asked scared, changing her expression radically. “Dead Lycans? ... Where? Cazzo… yes, Mother Miranda, yes, the girl is with us, (Y/N) is… yes, right now, Mother Miranda,” she said nervously, calling your attention and hanging up abruptly, running towards you.

“What's wrong?” you asked nervous by her erratic behavior. “Donna.”

“I have to go. Something happened…” she said without giving more explanations, searching for her veil. “(Y/N), listen to me… I don't think anything will happen, but… promise me that you will protect Rose, that you won't leave her… do you promise? Per favore! Tell me you understand!” she squealed nervously at your lack of response.

“Y-Yes, of course, Donna, no one will touch the girl, but what's wrong? You're scaring me,” you said nervously, getting up from the couch.

“You, just… wait for me, okay? I'll be back in a moment, come on Angie,” Donna said, gesturing to her doll, the silent witness of that conversation, making her jump comically into her arms.

“Donna, what…”you said, answered by a loud slam of the door.

You were nervous and scared. You didn't know what was happening, why Donna ran out like that. Not knowing anything was always your biggest anxiety, in any aspect. Walking around the house, you looked at the girl, who was lying asleep.

You would just have to wait, or so you repeated to yourself. The minutes passed and everything seemed as usual, until a loud knock, coming from the entrance, scared you, making you run there.

On the floor, surely because of the knock he gave to the doors, was an unknown man, dressed in clothes that weren’t typical of the village. Of course, you backed away scared as he stood up, looking at you curiously.

“Hey, no, no, easy,” he said, extending his empty hands as a symbol of peace. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” you asked, backing away slowly, totally distrustful.

“H-Hey, I'm coming in peace… Let me explain,” he insisted, chasing you into the living room.

“I-I don't know what you want, I'm just a maid,” you said in your defense, terribly scared and looking around for something to defend yourself with.

“A maid? Oh, yes… you seem like a pretty normal girl, you're not one of them,” he said, with a nervous and relieved smile. “I'm looking for…” As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the crib. “Rose!”

The man ran towards the baby, towards the poor creature that you had to protect at all costs.

“What are you doing?” you asked nervously as he bent down to pick her up. “That baby isn't yours.”

“Of course it's mine, I'm her father,” he said with a pleasant smile, relieved to be reunited with his daughter. “Thank goodness you're here, Rose... come, we'll get out of here, together,” he said, extending his hand towards you, making you step back and shake your head.

“No, you can't take her, Donna told me to protect her,” you hissed, studying the situation.

You understood his joy, his desire to get out of there, but you simply couldn't allow it, you couldn't fail Donna, your Donna.

“Donna? One of those monsters? Listen, I’ll call people who could blow this place into a thousand pieces, you wouldn't have to worry about those monsters anymore, we can get out of here, the three of us,” the man said, speaking slowly so as not to scare you.

“No,” you said horrified quickly approaching the crib and grabbing the little girl. “You won’t take Rose!” you screamed, running away from him.

“Wait! Hey!” he shouted, chasing you through the mansion. “Come back here! She's my daughter!”

You didn't listen to him, you ran through the house while that enraged man chased you. Cornered, with the little girl in your arms, you knew you couldn't run away forever, you would have to face him sooner or later.

Hiding behind a door, you grabbed a vase from a table, letting the little girl's crying draw his attention, making him come closer. When he did, you didn't think much about it, you slammed the object into his head, breaking it into a thousand pieces, making him bleed.

“Damn it! Give me back my little girl!” the man screamed, blinded by the blow, bleeding from the head and stretching out his hand to try to catch you.

You could run away, but you couldn't escape. Naturally, that man was beyond your physical capabilities; you were the best of maids, but the worst of fighters. After a frantic chase, the man grabbed some scissors that were on a table, threatening you with them.

“Give Rose to me, come on, or…” he hissed, cornering you while you held Rose tightly against your chest.

He struggled with you, causing your clothes to be stained with his blood. You weren't strong, but you didn't let him take the baby from you, making him lose his mind completely, causing you to fall to the floor, with no way out.

The man breathed for a moment, raising the scissors in the air, surely ready to stab you with them, even at the risk of hurting Rose. You couldn't blame him, he was desperate.

Just when you thought it was your end, when you could feel those scissors digging into your flesh, the girl's father stepped back, dropping the scissors and covering his head with his hands.

Through the front door, the lady in black appeared, covered in her veil, reaching out to him, exerting her influence on his mind.

“Donna!” you cried out, sobbing as you saw your savior tormenting the man, bringing him to his knees.

Behind her was a dark figure, Mother Miranda, who, ignoring the man approached you, retrieving the baby.

“(Y/N), right?” the witch murmured with a sinister smile. “Good job.”

You nodded trembling as the priestess enveloped herself in a black cloud and Donna, agitated, crouched next to you.

“(Y/N), amore mio, are you okay?” she asked, cupping your face in her hands, nervously looking at every part of your body. “You're bleeding... where has he hurt you? Gods, (Y/N)…”

“I-I'm not hurt,” you murmured, letting her look at you. “The blood is not mine.”

“Meno male…” the brunette sighed, resting her forehead against yours. “(Y/N)…”

You glanced at the witch, who had completely changed her appearance, causing the tormented man to notice that new young woman.

“Mia?” he asked, dazed. “What are you doing here?”

“Calm down, Ethan, it's all over now… let's go home,” Miranda whispered in that new form, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. “A pity, I had high hopes for little Rose, but I'm afraid she'll have to go back to her pathetic family.”

Laughing sinisterly, accompanied by the zombified Ethan, the woman left leaving you alone.

There was a moment of silence in which the two of you looked at each other nervously.

“I-I thought I had lost you,” Donna whispered, taking off her veil and shaking her head while pushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “That he had hurt you.”

“I-I'm fine,” you said with your nerves still uncontrolled. “I only hit the floor, but, but I protected Rose, like you asked me to.”

“(Y/N), you are the only thing that matters,” Donna said, with a brusque tone, still covering your face with her hands. “You are… The only thing I have.”

“Calm down… I'm fine, you saved me,” you said with a slightly fake smile. “Shh… everything is fine, I'm not hurt…”

“I can't stand seeing you like this…” Donna hissed, shaking her head, her expression darkening. “Come.”

You took her hand as you walked down to her bedroom, where, without wasting any more time, she took off your ruined dress, cleaning your skin without saying anything, in complete silence.

Her hands were shaking and her eye was blinking nervously, on the verge of a breakdown.

“Sono una stupida,” she growled, panting nervously as she looked after you. “Sono una stupida!”

“Donna,” you said, moving away, a bit scared. “Calm down, my love.”

“No, I'm not calm, I can't be calm,” she said nervously, throwing away the towel she was cleaning you with and holding her hair. “You could have died!”

“I haven't, darling, I'm fine,” you said nervously, with a sad voice, sweet as always.

“No, no, no, no, no, you're not fine… nothing is fine!” she shrieked furiously, kicking the floor. “If you had died, I would…! I can't stand it. I can't stand you leaving me without knowing…! Not knowing that you… are the love of my life.”

“What did you say?” you asked, surprised by that whispered revelation, by that confession you didn’t expect in those circumstances.

“I’m tired of pretending!” the lady shrieked, kneeling in front of you, holding your hands too tightly. “(Y/N), listen to me, I’m completely in love with you, I’ve been since I met you and I’ve never told you because… I’m an idiot!”

“Shh, I know,” you said in a reassuring tone, hissing in pain from her grip.

“No, you don’t know… all this time I’ve been… running away from my feelings because I didn’t… I didn’t think I deserved you, I didn’t know that you… that I… I don’t deserve to love and I… they…” Donna said, stuttering, closing her eye to fight her madness, to be able to speak more clearly.

“I thought you would leave me, that you would never… (Y/N), I beg you to forgive me, but I was scared, scared because I never felt love for anyone, I was afraid of everything, I was afraid of getting my hopes up, of you breaking my heart…”

“Donna, I love you,” you said, fighting against her grip so you could hug her.

“I, I-I love you, (Y/N), I don't want you to be my maid ever again; I want you to be my wife. I want you to be mine only if you want it… I want to have children with you. I want you to be always by my side and…”

Seeing that she wasn’t able to control herself, you chose to silence her with your lips, to taste her salty tears in a tender, deep, revealing kiss, one that said much more than any words; that expressed the joy of your heart at having finally found the key to hers.

“That's a lot of propositions,” you said in a relaxed, amused tone, slowly detaching yourself from her lips. “But I have the same answer for all of them…”

“Quale?” she asked, with an almost childish, expectant look.

“Yes, yes, Donna,” you answered, melting into her lips again while she cried, this time from joy.

“(Y/N),” she said, moving your hair away as she always did, with a sincere smile.  “Will you marry me? I-I don't have a ring but…”

“Donna…” you said, rolling your eyes. “Of course I will.”

The doll maker hugged you very tightly, burying her head in you chest, crying desperately, regretful for her attitude, happy for having been able to open her feelings. Her mind must have been a complete mess at that moment.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she repeated, soaking your skin with her tears. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“Shhh,” you whispered, caressing her head, hissing in pain as her nails accidentally scratched your naked back. “Donna, my love… that's it, relax, okay? Everything is fine, my love, everything…”

She nodded effusively, touching your body, your waist, enjoying your skin with a smile she always wanted to have on her face, but that slowly faded.

“What is this?” Donna asked confused, pointing at some marks on your arm, the marks of some fingers. “Did I do it to you?”

“No, I think that man grabbed me and…” you explained, letting the lady go over the rest of your body in a different way, studying it.

“H-He grabbed you… he grabbed you…” she murmured shaking her head, moving away a little and getting up, looking away at your ruined dress. “Gods… il tuo vestito…”

“It's okay, Donna, it's okay,” you said, getting up as well and placing a hand on her shoulder. “It can be cleaned.”

“No,” the lady said, frowning and turning around abruptly. “I made that dress for you! It was a gift for you!”

“Shhh, I know…” you said, rubbing her arms, afraid that she would lose her mind again. “It doesn't matter, Donna, you can make me another one.”

“That man has… he has defiled you,” she murmured, looking at you sadly as she ran her hands down your body. “He has touched you, he has… marked you…” she said nervously, running a hand through the man's grip. “He has touched what is mine… nobody touches what is mine!”

“He won't do it ever again… I'm only yours, Donna,” you said confused, letting the brunette do something strange, touch your body slowly with her hands, with a concentrated look.

“You are mine, my girl…” she whispered, looking briefly into your eyes. “Everything, your skin… your waist… your face… he had no right…” she said, running her hand over each place she mentioned. “He had no right to do it… I-I need… to take him… away from you…”

“Donna…” you sighed, letting yourself be dragged by her hands on your waist, by her wild kisses that began to devour your lips mercilessly. “Honey…”

“Shh, calm down, tesoro… I won't let anyone else touch you ever again,” she whispered in your ear, kissing you fiercely, grabbing your body, scratching it almost desperately, playing with the edges of your underwear. “I need you, (Y/N).”

“Take what you need, my love,” you said with a purr, letting the garment slide down your legs, knowing that taking you, claiming you, would serve to calm the lady down, to make her fears disappear and, well, you were always willing to do it, always.

She nodded, kissing you again, knocking you down on the bed among nervous gasps, playing with her own clothes, whispering to you, adoring you in a different way, a desperate and passionate way.

“I love you,” Donna whispered, caressing your cheek as your hips swayed while her erection pressed against your entrance, wet from ecstasy, from revelations, from confessions… “I don't want to fuck you, I want to make love, to make you mine…”

You laughed amused, catching her lips in another wet kiss, pulling her body as her shaft entered slowly, but abruptly, stretching your walls, making your body welcome the one who was now your beloved, your wife, your Donna.

“Hey, slow down, darling, you're big,” you said, moaning from the shock, earning a shy smile, a brief moment of pause, of intimate enjoyment, of glances that were very, very far from madness.

“I'm sorry, I just need to…” she said, apologizing for the anxious movements of her hips, for her hands separating your legs, squeezing your skin, melting it in her fingers.

“To make me yours, I know,” you whispered, suppressing a moan, devouring her lips while her thrusts intensified, making the bed creak, protesting due to your lust.

The words no longer came out, only hurried moans did. Your hands didn’t know where to rest, they ran over her clothed body, her legs, squeezing them as close as possible, as deep inside you as possible.

Her movements were fast and uncontrolled, her kisses were wild, her erection slid along your wet walls quickly and decisively while your whole body trembled with pleasure.

“I love you… I love you…” the lady repeated, controlling her own moans. “I don't want to say anything else, every day, every hour…”

Her soft words contrasted with the anxiety of her movements, with the desperation of claiming once again what was hers, what was always hers and always would be.

Your aching body endured the pleasure as best it could, your legs wrapped around her waist, begging her not to pull away, to keep taking you like she did, like she always did, like she had never done before.

That dirty, improvised, wet act didn't take long to reach its end, for your body to surrender to the pleasure, to tense up, to release itself with a loud squeal, with your nails clinging to her flesh.

Donna, accelerated, nervous and unable to control her thrusts, also released herself inside you, leaving her mark on your walls, moistening your insides with her warm seed, with a muffled moan.

“(Y/N),” she said, taking a breath, not wanting to abandon you, playing with your face exhausted by pleasure, pointing your eyes at hers. “You were never just my maid.”

You smiled, kissing her with one last breath, your body demanding a break, the wetness of lust running down your legs.

It had been a strange way to force the lady in black to confess her feelings, but she did it, she finally did it. You would finally have the life with her that you dreamed of. You would be her wife, her lover, the love of her life.

First her voice, then her face, her body and finally, you got her heart.

[coquettemouse]

Breakfast

The kitchen was already alive with the smell of oatmeal cooking on the stove when Jason walked in, carrying a sleepy-eyed Sofia on his hip. Her head lolled against his shoulder, but as soon as she caught sight of the high chair, she perked up.

“Up, Daddy!” she commanded, pointing at the chair like a queen giving orders to her loyal subject.

“Your Highness,” Jason said with a mock bow, settling her down carefully. Her feet swung back and forth, thumping lightly against the base of the chair. He tucked a stray braid behind her ear, and she gave him a lopsided, toothless grin.

“What’s on the menu today?” she asked, puffing out her chest like a food critic ready to give a harsh review.

“Oatmeal with berries and ‘the crunchy stuff,’” Jason announced, waving a wooden spoon for emphasis. “Only the finest for my princess.”

“Good,” she said seriously. “But no weird green stuff.”

“Who do you take me for?” he scoffed, pouring oats into a pot. “Some kind of spinach wizard?”

She giggled, and he felt the corners of his lips pulling up. As the oats bubbled on the stove, Jason tossed in a dash of cinnamon, stirred, and then turned to face her. She was trying to grab at an invisible something above her head, small fingers stretching.

“What’re you doing, Sofi?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Catchin’ fairies!” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “They always try to steal my crunchy stuff. It’s their favorite.”

Jason grinned as he stirred the oatmeal. “Well, those sneaky fairies better watch out because I’m putting extra crunchies today.”

Sofia gasped, eyes wide. “Extra? They’re gonna go bonkers!”

With a dramatic flourish, Jason scooped the oatmeal into a small bowl, added a handful of strawberries and blueberries, then sprinkled granola over the top. He brought it to her like a prized offering. “Here it is—the one and only anti-fairy oatmeal deluxe.”

“Thanks, daddy!” She grabbed the spoon and dug in, but not before giving the bowl a serious look. “No fairies allowed,” she whispered to it, then took a big bite. Her eyes lit up. “Mmm! It’s crunchy!”

“I told you,” Jason said, leaning against the counter with his own burnt toast. “The kitchen elves helped out.”

“Not elves again!” Sofia groaned between bites. “They’re always leavin’ their crumbs everywhere.”

Jason nodded gravely. “The worst. Absolute crumb bandits.”

Suddenly gggles echoed through the hallway, bouncing off the walls. Jimena burst into the kitchen, hair flying in all directions, her laughter coming in breathless gasps. Hot on her heels was Leo, a grin plastered across his face. Keeping his pace slower than her.

“You’re too fast!” Leo exclaimed, throwing his hands up as he came to a dramatic halt beside the table, pretending to be out of breath. He bent over, resting one arm on the tabletop for effect. Jimena skidded to a stop, still giggling, and tiptoed back toward him, eyes bright with mischief.

“Gotcha!” she declared, poking his shoulder. It was exactly what Leo was waiting for. He lunged, wrapping his arm around her waist and lifting her up, her legs kicking wildly as she squealed.

“No!!” Jimena shrieked between bursts of laughter, squirming in his grip. “Dad! Dad! Help me!”

Jason, who had been watching from the counter with a faint smile as he sipped his coffee, raised an eyebrow. “Oh no, a damsel in distress! What should I do?”

Jimena pointed at him, barely able to get words out through her giggles. “Save me, Dad!”

Jason set down his mug with deliberate slowness, like he was considering a life-or-death mission. “All right, hero mode it is.” He walked toward them, his frame casting a playful shadow over them. “Leo, prepare for battle.”

Leo held Jimena a bit higher, shifting her like a human shield. “You’ll have to go through me first!” he declared, mock-seriousness in his voice.

“Dad!” Jimena wheezed, caught between laughing and catching her breath. “Don’t let him win!”

“Never.” Jason moved, hands darting out to tickle Leo’s sides. Leo yelped, losing his grip just enough for Jimena to wiggle free and land on her feet, victorious.

“Ha! We got you!” she crowed, pointing at Leo while clutching her sides.

Leo, feigning defeat, sank dramatically onto a chair. “Betrayed by my own daughter and out-tickled by my husband. Is there no honor left in this world?”

Sofia, still munching on the last bit of her oatmeal, chimed in with all the wisdom of a five-year-old. “You shouldn’t mess with dad,” she said seriously, a bit of granola sticking to her cheek. “He’s a hero.”

[babsharrison]

Safe Haven - John Wick

(Chapter Seven)

Pairing | John Wick x Original Fem! Character

Summary | In search of a breath in his tumultuous life, John Wick finds himself in a charming bookstore where he meets a sweet and welcoming woman. As they grow closer, John questions whether she can love him despite the dark secrets he carries. While battling the shadows of his past, he must protect the love that is blossoming and discover if hope and redemption are truly possible.

Word Count | 3.0k

Trigger Warning: This scene contains themes of intimidation, unwanted physical proximity, verbal harassment, and implied violence. Reader discretion is advised.

A/N | I'm really excited about the direction I'm taking with the fic. I hope you guys enjoy it too! 🥰

Previous chapter!

John stood motionless, but every fiber of his being was on alert, his eyes fixed on Marco's. His appearance there was more than just a coincidence, and both of them knew it. Marco held John's gaze, as if it were a silent challenge, a reminder of how close he still was to the shadows of the past.

Mia, however, seemed oblivious to the silent confrontation between them, and a soft smile appeared on her face as she thanked him for the purchase. "I hope you enjoy the book, Mr. Vitale," she said, gesturing to the volume with the kindness that was her trademark.

Marco smiled with a touch of malice, and before stepping away, he gently took Mia's hand, leaning in to plant a kiss on its back. "The pleasure was all mine, Miss," he said, his voice laden with calculated charm. "I hope we can meet again."

That gesture made something ignite in John's eyes, but he did not react. Instead, he remained silent, his expression now cold and almost impassive, though the look he gave Marco was sharp as a blade.

Marco stepped back, giving John one last glance, a smile full of intent lingering on his lips, before disappearing into the park. His presence still seemed to weigh, even from a distance, and the air around them became thick with an invisible but palpable tension.

When Marco finally disappeared, Mia turned to John, her eyes shining with curiosity. "Quite the gentleman. Do you know him?"

John looked away, his face even colder after Mia's comment. He kept his tone dry and direct, almost as if trying to end the conversation before it even began.

"I know enough to say you should keep your distance," he replied, his voice low but heavy with seriousness, causing Mia's smile to falter.

She stared at him, surprised by his intense reaction and sudden distance. It was the first time she had seen John like this—a rigid and impenetrable figure, almost as though he were building an invisible wall around himself. Her response was only a restrained nod, realizing the importance that warning seemed to have for him.

For a moment, silence hung between them, thick and uncomfortable, until John, without offering further explanation, gave a slight nod and walked away toward the opposite side of the makeshift bookstore. Mia watched him with mixed confusion and unease growing in her chest.

Even though she didn’t understand the reason for the warning, she felt a strange sense of security in his seriousness—a side of him that rarely showed. And although she couldn’t guess what John was hiding behind that look, one thing was clear: he carried, in silence, a weight much heavier than anyone she had ever known.

Mia followed John's stiff movement as he walked away through the park's grass, his back straight, almost impenetrable in his distant posture. He didn’t look back, and the sound of his footsteps was swallowed by the gentle breeze that danced among the leaves. Watching him slowly disappear among the trees, a bitter feeling took over her.

She suddenly felt alone, as though the brief moment of closeness they had shared had been nothing more than an illusion, unraveled too quickly. A sharp pang of hurt throbbed in her chest as the question echoed in her mind: What had she done to deserve such coldness?

Mia turned to the stack of disorganized books on the small table, trying to distract herself with the familiar covers and spines. The touch on the worn volumes should have been comforting, something that always brought her silent peace, but now everything seemed to lose its luster. She let out a soft sigh, her gaze drifting into emptiness, trying to shake off the persistent discomfort that John's presence—and sudden absence—had left behind.

Days turned into weeks, and with a certain heaviness in her chest, Mia noticed that John no longer came to the bookstore. At first, she tried not to pay it too much attention, but over time, she realized she missed that unusual customer, the few words, and that deep look that seemed to carry a silent burden. Every time the door opened, her heart hesitated, hoping to see him cross the threshold and give her that almost imperceptible nod.

Despite everything, Mia felt deeply grateful for the success of the event. New customers arrived every day, drawn by the welcoming atmosphere of the bookstore, and Tom seemed to share her gratitude, with a satisfied smile that rarely left his face. But even with the positive movement, Mia found herself distracted, unable to shake a certain thought. Every time she tried to relax and enjoy the moment, the memory of that man returned—how he had walked away through the park with a coldness that still unsettled her.

She wanted to ignore it. After all, he wasn’t anyone special, just a customer. But it was strange how the memory of that encounter insisted on lodging itself in her mind, making her heart race in a way she considered foolish. It was almost as if his absence left behind an unease. She shook her head as though she could push the thoughts away, but they always returned, stronger, leaving behind curiosity and a slight desire to see him again, even though she would never admit it to herself.

As the days passed, the restlessness grew. With every new opening of the door, her eyes involuntarily turned, hoping—or perhaps fearing—to find him there. And while she tried to convince herself that he was just any other person, the silent interest continued to grow inside her, like something delicate and unexpected that she didn’t quite know how to handle.

On the other side of the city, John moved with the same silence, but in a much more hostile setting. He had tried to read the book Mia said was her favorite, as if those pages were the only bridge still connecting him to her. The idea that Marco Vitale or any other dangerous man had come close to Mia filled him with a mixture of rage and, to his own surprise, jealousy. He didn’t know where that feeling came from, but there was something about Mia, the way she cared for the bookstore, that he felt was meant only for him—a peace she had unexpectedly brought into his life.

The danger, however, had come too close, and John knew he needed to pull away to protect what, in some way, had become important to him. He moved through the shadows of the alley, senses alert, as the muffled voices of Marco Vitale’s goons cut through the heavy night air.

"You thought you could show up here and leave unscathed, Wick?" one voice mocked from the darkness, dripping with contempt. One of the goons raised his weapon, the threat clear in his eyes.

John didn’t respond. His eyes focused on the thug in front of him, quickly assessing the situation, planning his next moves with near-calculating precision. In one second, a snap echoed through the alley—a sudden move, a precise strike. The nearest goon collapsed, the weapon falling from his hands with a dull thud.

The second man hesitated, but it was too late. John was already in motion, moving like a shadow. In seconds, he had subdued the thug, holding him at gunpoint and pressing the truth with a firm, threatening voice:

"Tell me where Marco is, and maybe you’ll get out of here today."

The thug gasped for air, fear blatantly written on his face. “You… you don’t know?” His voice trembled, and his pale face glistened with sweat under the faint light of the alley. With John’s unyielding gaze fixed on his eyes, the thug gave in, mumbling what he knew. “Vitale… he wants to settle scores with… with that girl… the one from the bookstore…”

The words fell like stones. John froze for a moment, his eyes hardening. Marco was going after Mia. She had probably caught Marco’s attention during their encounter at the bookstore—and upon noticing John’s silent interest in Mia, he now saw her as a vulnerability, something to be exploited or eliminated. John knew he had no time to waste.

With a swift motion, he shot the thug, with no chance for pursuit, and disappeared into the shadows.

At the bookstore, Mia was finishing the last stack of books, the shop now shrouded in a dimness that seemed heavier and more unsettling. As she locked the door, a muffled sound echoed through the shelves, and she quickly turned, her heart racing. There, in front of her, was a man she had never seen before. His gaze was a mix of disdain and perverse pleasure, and the smile he gave was cold and unsettling, sending a chill down her spine.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady but feeling a chill spread through her body.

He simply smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, carrying a nearly palpable malice. “Closed? Oh, I know. But I thought we could… extend the hours,” he said, taking a step forward, his gaze predatory.

Mia felt a lump form in her throat, her heart quickening. “Please, leave,” she repeated, her voice trembling, instinctively taking a step back. But the man continued to approach slowly, and she noticed he was watching her with unsettling intensity, like a hunter about to strike.

“Don’t be so rude,” he murmured, reaching out to grab something from the counter—an almost casual movement, but one that made Mia step back even further. Every inch of distance felt precious, and she felt like an animal cornered. He kept moving forward, his expression too relaxed, making everything even more unnerving.

She tried to think quickly of an escape, but he was already in front of the door, blocking any chance of fleeing. “I said we’re closed,” she repeated, almost whispering, her courage wavering with every word.

The intruder let out a low, cold laugh, stepping closer. “Relax, girl. I just want to talk. Is that so hard?”

Mia felt a knot form in her throat, her heart racing. “Please, leave,” she repeated, her voice trembling as she instinctively took a step back. But the man continued to move closer, and she noticed how he watched her with a disconcerting intensity, like a hunter about to strike.

“Don’t be so unfriendly,” he murmured, reaching out to grab something from the counter—a casual move, but it made Mia retreat even further. Every inch of distance felt precious, and she felt like an animal cornered. He kept advancing, his expression too relaxed, which made everything even more unsettling.

She tried to think quickly of an escape, but he was already in front of the door, blocking any chance of fleeing. “I said we’re closed,” she repeated, almost in a whisper, her courage wavering with each word.

The intruder let out a low, cold laugh, moving closer. “Relax, girl. I just want to talk. Is that so hard?”

Mia took another step back until her back touched the counter, with no more room to retreat. “Please, just go,” she insisted, her tone now a plea masked by authority, but he only watched her, relentless.

“Do you work here alone?” he asked, ignoring any trace of formality or boundaries. He got so close that Mia could smell cigarette smoke on his clothes, making her feel a wave of nausea and panic.

She tried to move to the side, attempting to escape, but he stretched out his arm, blocking her path. His eyes were fixed on her, as if testing her, relishing the terror that was beginning to dominate her gaze.

Mia clenched her fists, trying to control the trembling in her hands. Her heart pounded so loudly that she could barely hear her own thoughts. “If you don’t leave now, I… I’ll call the police,” she threatened, though her voice betrayed the desperation she was trying to hide.

He laughed again, as if amused by her words. “Really? Good luck with that.” His voice dripped with mockery, and he reached out to touch a loose strand of hair by her face, causing her to instinctively pull back, though there was nowhere else to retreat.

Mia’s throat was dry, fear paralyzing her, and her mind was spinning. She felt her breath quicken, her heart racing, the panic growing with every passing second. She knew she had no strength to push him away and that she was completely alone. The environment that once felt like a refuge now seemed like a suffocating prison.

Suddenly, a distant, heavy sound broke the silence, and the figure of the man turned for a moment, just enough for Mia to notice a shadow in the doorway. In an instant, John was there, and the relief she felt was so intense that she could barely contain a shaky sigh.

John entered slowly, his eyes fixed on the man with deadly intensity, his face impassive and unshaken. He didn’t say a word, but the coldness in his gaze spoke for itself. With a smooth, but firm movement, he placed himself between Mia and the intruder.

The invader looked at John, his earlier confidence beginning to fade in the face of John’s threatening presence. “Who the hell are you?” the man asked, trying to regain control of the situation.

John tilted his head slightly but remained silent, and the stranger quickly realized that any move he made would be a mistake. John took a step forward, forcing the intruder to retreat another step until his back hit the shelves, with no room to escape.

The man gave a derisive, challenging smile, eyeing John up and down. “You know, you seem pretty brave for someone who hangs around a bookstore, Boogeyman…” he taunted, his tone dripping with disdain, trying to break John’s unshakeable calm.

John narrowed his eyes, his posture rigid as steel. Slowly, he took off his jacket and placed it on the counter next to him, revealing a discreet holster on his belt. “Last chance to leave in one piece,” he said, his voice low and controlled, with no trace of threat—just the promise of something inevitable.

The henchman laughed and lunged at John, but before his punch could land, John moved. In an instant, he grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it behind his back, making him groan in pain. Without giving him time to react, John spun him around and landed a precise blow to the back of his knee, forcing him to drop to the ground with a grunt.

Mia, leaning against the counter, watched everything with a mixture of fascination and fear. Each of John’s movements was calculated, like a dangerous dance—quick and precise. The man tried to get up, but John held him firmly, his voice now slightly more intense. “Who sent you here?” he asked, giving no room for excuses.

The henchman, panting and panicked, mumbled something incoherent. John abruptly released him, only to knock him down again with a direct blow to the face. When the man fell, dazed, John grabbed him by the collar and lifted him, forcing him to look at him.

“I asked who sent you,” John repeated, his tone threatening. At the man’s hesitant silence, John let him go without ceremony, letting him fall to the ground with force. The intruder, terrified, looked at John and finally gave in, revealing the name Marco Vitale and the order to attack Mia.

John approached the henchman, each step a silent reminder of the imminent danger. His eyes remained steady, as cold as blades, while the cornered man tried to disguise his panic. John stopped, close enough to intimidate him, but with a deadly calm that threatened to explode at any moment.

“You… you’re not going to do anything to me here, are you?” The henchman tried to maintain a challenging tone, but his voice came out shaky, revealing his fear.

Mia, still leaning against the wall, watched everything without being able to look away. John’s presence, usually so enigmatic, now seemed like an impenetrable wall between her and the danger. But the way he stared at the man in front of him—the ruthless firmness in his eyes—brought out something she hadn’t imagined. This was a side of John she had never dreamed of seeing: a patient, calculating predator, capable of deciding life and death with a simple look. She was terrified.

Taking a deep breath, John leaned toward the henchman, and for a moment, Mia thought he was going to end the man’s life right there. However, without breaking his gaze, John stepped back. His decision to spare the intruder seemed to reflect both caution and consideration for Mia.

“Leave,” John murmured, his voice low and threatening. “And tell Marco he made a mistake. He’ll only get one chance to fix it.”

The henchman didn’t wait for more words; stumbling, he ran out, breathing heavily, while Mia watched, still frightened, as his figure disappeared out the door.

The silence that followed was heavy. Mia remained frozen, absorbing what had just happened, her eyes still wide. The fact that John hadn’t eliminated the man relieved her for a moment, but the controlled brutality he had shown now seemed to weigh in the air around her.

John, sensing the shift in atmosphere, approached her slowly, not looking directly at her. “Mia…” he called, but she barely reacted, still processing what she had just seen.

“It’s… it’s too dangerous for you to stay here now,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “You need to come with me, at least until I can ensure your safety.”

She nodded silently, looking away from him, trying to hide the mix of fear and shock that her face revealed. The trust she once had in facing him seemed to have faded; now, she was quiet and withdrawn, her hands slightly trembling. John felt the weight of that change, and a hint of regret crossed his gaze. He knew that his presence usually calmed those under his protection—but this time, he felt like the very threat he had been trying to avoid.

Without saying anything more, Mia gathered her things and followed him, keeping a cautious distance. Every time he tried to look at her, her eyes would avert, as if his presence was now hard to bear. John felt his fists tighten, uncomfortable with the invisible barrier that seemed to have appeared between them.

[whosscruffylooking]

Open Arms Chapter One

steve harrington x fem!reader word count : 6k Rewrite/Character Insert of Stranger Things ~1984~ This chapter takes place during Season 2 Episodes 1-5

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Another day in Hawkins. Another day of high school. Another day stuck in the same small, sleepy town you’ve known for as long as you can remember. It feels like nothing ever changes here, like every day just blurs into the next, predictable and quiet.

Every day, you wake up wishing for some kind of miracle, something that could shake things up, make life a little less ordinary. Something that could turn your world… Upside Down.

“Y/N!” your mom calls out from the kitchen, “Is Steve giving you a ride today?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Mom, seriously…when was the last time Steve drove me to school? He has a girlfriend to pick up now.”

Steve, your best friend since the first grade. To everyone else he was The Reigning King of Hawkins High. To you he was just the boy next door who reigns havoc on your life, makes everything a little more complicated whether you want it or not. 

Your mom hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time you found yourself a boyfriend.”

“I’m perfectly fine, thanks.”

She gives a little shrug. “I’m just saying, wouldn’t it be nice to be taken out on a date once in a while?”

“Mom,” you sigh, “please take your matchmaking somewhere else.”

She’s not wrong, though. You haven’t let yourself even think about dating anyone else since the last “almost” with Steve. Around a year ago, he’d done something reckless enough to mess up things with Nancy, and she seemed to be getting closer to Jonathan Byers. You had just gotten out of a relationship yourself. 

It happens every time: he messes things up with a girl, or you’re fresh out of a breakup, and suddenly, like clockwork, you’re back in each other’s lives, circling each other. It’s as if you’re both bound to this endless cycle of almosts—falling together just to fall apart again. You know the game by heart, and you’re tired of it, tired of the late nights that never lead to anything real, the unspoken words that hang heavy in the air between you both. But still, you can’t seem to let go.

Nothing ever actually happens. You just end up crashing at each other’s houses, watching movies till you both fall asleep, or driving out to Lover’s Lake to stargaze and rant about your trainwreck love lives. But you both know what it is—and what it isn’t. The truth is, you’re bound by a history no one else could touch. Growing up together, you made the stupid decision of being a lot of each other’s firsts, and you’ve always been the one person who truly gets him. It’s a bond that runs deeper than most things in your life, yet it never seems to go anywhere beyond these stolen moments. And maybe that’s why it hurts the most—knowing he’s always right there but never fully yours.

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At school, you overhear the girls in the hallway whispering about the new guy in town. Though “guy” isn’t the word they use—they’re calling him a real man, with a muscle car to match and actual muscles to back it up. You’ve never been the type to shy away from guys, and you’ve certainly never had any trouble attracting attention. Still, something about the way they talk about him piques your curiosity, though you’d never admit it.

You notice the once-empty locker beside yours is finally in use, a few things tossed inside. You wonder briefly who claimed it. That curiosity doesn’t last long.

“Excuse me, gorgeous, but I think that’s my locker.”

You turn to find the living, breathing embodiment of the girls’ descriptions. Tall, sharp-jawed, with piercing blue eyes, and that effortless, cocky grin. You don’t even have to ask if it’s him.

“Oh—my bad,” you say, stepping aside.

“And what’s your name?” he asks, his smile unwavering.

Who does he remind you of?

“Y/N…” You try to pinpoint it, that nagging sense of familiarity.

He tosses his keys into the locker, eyes still fixed on yours, something almost playful in his gaze.

Then it hits you.

“I’m—”

“Knight Rider?” you say slyly, a smirk playing at your lips. He blushes just a little, caught off guard, and you savor the small victory.

“Well played,” he says, taking your hand into his for a confident but gentle shake.

“That’s just the beginning,” you respond, shutting your locker with a quiet click, eager to keep the mystery between you two alive.

“I hope so. I’m Billy by the way,” he replies, his voice softer now, still slightly in awe of you. There’s something in his eyes—a challenge. And you can tell, he’s baited.

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At lunch, you find yourself walking through the crowded cafeteria, scanning the room for a familiar face. As luck would have it, you bump into Nancy and Steve near the food line.

“Hey,” Steve greets, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity. “What did you think of the new guy? Total douche, right?”

You catch the look on his face, a mix of hope and something else you can’t quite place. It’s clear he’s fishing for your opinion, eager for you to agree with him.

You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual, though you can’t hide the small smirk tugging at your lips. “I mean…” Your voice comes out just a bit higher than usual, betraying your uncertainty. “He’s like the entire cast of The Outsiders wrapped up in one package.” You leave it at that, the playful jab hanging in the air between you three.

Nancy chuckles, gripping her tray closely as she looks between you and Steve. You take the opportunity to point at her, nodding toward Steve. “Looks like your girl might agree with me too.”

Nancy gasps and bursts into laughter. “I don’t know, I guess. He’s not really my type though.”

You smirk, not missing a beat. “That’s so funny, because I’m pretty sure I saw a David Hasselhoff photo in your locker just last week?”

Steve’s face falls slightly, and you catch the brief flash of disappointment in his eyes. “Oh please,” he says, his tone a bit too defensive, “he is not David Hasselhoff.”

“Knight Rider,” Nancy interjects, her eyes darting between you and Steve. You both freeze, caught off guard.

“What?” You ask, happy she sees the resemblance too.

Nancy looks back and forth between you two, realization dawning on her. “He has the car, the curls, and the mus—muscle car.”

You raise an eyebrow, teasing her. “You just said the car twice. Sure you didn’t mean another kind of muscle?”

Nancy giggles at your comment, but Steve pushes you playfully, though there’s a layer of something more in his touch—like he’s trying to keep things light but it doesn’t quite feel like it used to.

“Have I told you that I hate you?” Steve mutters under his breath, though it’s more playful than anything else.

You smile, your tone laced with the usual teasing. “All too often.”

But as you both lock eyes, something shifts. It’s not just a playful exchange anymore. The usual banter feels heavy now, the space between you both thick with unspoken words. Steve’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same distance creeping between you two that you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. You quickly look away, forcing the feeling down as Nancy continues to laugh, unaware of the sudden tension lingering.

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You’re walking down the hall, a few steps ahead of Steve, the sounds of lockers slamming and voices all around you fading as the tension between you both hangs in the air. Every time you glance over your shoulder, his gaze is already on you—lingering, just a bit too long.

You both fall into an uneasy silence. It’s not the comfortable quiet you used to share, but something heavier. Something unspoken.

You stop for a moment, unsure of what to say. “I’ll see you in class,” you murmur, turning to leave.

But Steve’s voice stops you. “Hey,” he calls softly, his hand brushing yours as he steps into your path. His touch is warm, too warm for something so casual. His fingers linger for a split second before he pulls away, but the moment still sits between you, unresolved.

You look up, meeting his eyes. His usual cocky confidence is gone, replaced by something more vulnerable. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for you to say something, anything to break the silence.

“Steve…” You don’t know what you’re going to say. You want to say something that makes it all feel normal again, but the words feel stuck in your throat.

He opens his mouth, hesitates, then shuts it again. “Never mind.” The smile he forces doesn’t reach his eyes again. It’s strained, tight. And suddenly, you can’t look at him anymore.

Turning quickly, you walk past him, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

From down the hall, Nancy watches the exchange, arms folded, leaning against the locker as she observes. There’s no jealousy in her gaze—she’s been there too. She knows the space between two people who care for each other but don’t know how to bridge it. She’s seen it with Jonathan, with the way they get tangled in unspoken words and moments that feel like too much, but too little at the same time. It’s just the way things go sometimes.

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*Flashback*

1 year ago

It’s a Friday afternoon, and the hallways of Hawkins High are quieter than usual. Most of the students have gone home, leaving the echoes of footsteps and lockers slamming shut. You and Steve are walking side by side, the familiar warmth of his presence at your side like it always has been—comforting, easy.

You laugh as Steve pulls an exaggerated face, trying to get you to laugh at his antics as he mimics one of the teachers. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile spreading across your face.

“You’re such an idiot,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He bumps you back, almost knocking you into the lockers. “You love me for it,” he smirks, and there’s a hint of something else in his gaze, something unspoken that lingers between you, like a question neither of you has the courage to ask.

You roll your eyes again, but there’s no denying the way your heart skips. “Yeah, maybe,” you say, trying to brush it off. But you both know that maybe means something more.

You reach the end of the hallway, your steps slowing as the moment stretches, neither of you wanting to be the first to turn back, to end this rare, quiet time between just the two of you.

He glances over at you, his steps slowing, his voice quieter when he speaks again. “Hey, so… Bryan still around?”

You stop walking, surprised by the question, but it’s Steve, and it’s always been easy with him. “No,” you reply, shaking your head. “He’s out of the picture.”

Steve’s expression softens, a slight smile playing on his lips as if the weight of something between you two has been lifted. “Good. He never really seemed like the right guy for you.”

Your breath catches slightly at the unexpected warmth in his words, but you don’t let it show. “Yeah, well… sometimes you don’t really see things until it’s too late.”

Steve nods, looking down for a moment as if he’s trying to decide something. He looks back up at you, his usual carefree grin returning. “Well, if you’re not busy tonight, you wanna come over to my place? We can grab some takeout, watch movies… you know, normal hangout stuff.”

There’s something in his invitation that feels different this time, but you brush it off. It’s Steve. He always invites you over. You’ve done it a million times before—movies, pizza, talking about everything and nothing. It’s what you do.

“Yeah,” you agree, “sounds good.”

Steve’s eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes, his expression shifting. You feel your stomach flutter, the air between you thickening as the playful banter dies down.

You find yourself leaning in, just a bit, and you see Steve’s breath catch, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours.

But before you can get any closer, a loud bang from down the hall makes both of you snap apart like you’ve been caught.

You both step back, instantly awkward, eyes darting everywhere except at each other. The spell breaks, but the tension still lingers, heavy in the air. You glance at Steve, and his expression is unreadable—like he’s trying to hide something, or maybe it’s you who’s hiding it.

You break the silence first, a half-laugh escaping your lips. “Well… that was close.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck, looking embarrassed but also relieved. “Yeah, totally. We’re just—uh, messing around, right?”

You nod, trying to brush it off, but your heart is racing, and you know he feels it too. “Right. Just messing around.”

But neither of you says anything more. You both head in opposite directions down the hallway, still feeling the echo of what almost happened, both of you wondering if the other is thinking about it too.

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At last, it’s the day of the party. You’ve spent longer than you’d like to admit getting ready, but you’re finally happy with your look. Blue bell-bottom jeans, a tight orange top with a center zip that falls just below the line of modesty—it’s bold, but you feel good in it. Confident, even.

You arrive at the party, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside you. The music pulses through the house, and people are scattered, laughing and talking, their faces blurry in the haze of a dimly lit room. As much as you try to act like you don’t care, the anxiety creeps in. Funny how someone so confident can still feel out of place in a crowd.

You push through, trying to find your core group, but as you weave through the bodies, there’s really only one person you’re looking for. Steve. The one person who has always had a way of making you feel like you belong.

On your way through the crowd, you bump into Jonathan Byers. Another one of your longtime friends. You’ve all grown up together in Hawkins, so you’ve seen each other through the years—some friendships stronger than others, but still, it’s hard to forget those familiar faces.

“Jonathan!” you call out with a smile, pulling him into a quick hug. “Loving the look, very you.” You nod at his usual, low-key style—flannel and jeans. He’s always been the quiet, thoughtful one in the group, and you just want him to feel good about his understated vibe.

“I like… your shirt,” he says, his words trailing off awkwardly.

Well, at least your shirt is doing what you intended it to. Maybe just not with the target audience.

“Looking for Nancy?” you ask, hoping he’ll pick up the conversation.

“Yeah,” Jonathan responds, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I don’t really associate with anyone else here.”

You put on a mock-offended face, “Ouch.”

He immediately backpedals, realizing how it sounded. “I mean, you were gone for a while. We kinda lost touch.” His gaze drops a little, clearly uncomfortable, referring to the time when your parents separated again, and you spent some months with your mom in California. It had been a rough time for you, especially being away from Steve. You’re still not sure how you survived that.

“Well, I’m back now,” you say, brushing off the past. “Come on, join me. I’m on a mission to find Steve and Nancy.”

Jonathan nods, grateful for the company. “Alright, lead the way.”

And there he is, leaning against the wall by the kitchen, laughing at something someone said, a bottle of beer loosely held in his hand. He’s effortlessly cool as usual, but there’s something different tonight. Maybe it’s the way his eyes flicker over to Nancy every now and then, or the tightness in his posture that betrays the casual air he’s trying to maintain.

Nancy stands next to him, arms crossed, her jaw clenched in that familiar way when she’s upset—though it’s hard to say if it’s the alcohol or something else that’s fueling her frustration tonight. She’s leaning a little too heavily on the counter, her face flushed, the words she’s muttering barely audible over the noise of the party.

Steve’s smile is gone now, replaced by a more serious expression. He’s trying to keep things light, but it’s clear she’s not having it. 

As you and Jonathan walk toward the kitchen, you spot Steve and Nancy in their little world, tucked away by the counter. You can hear the edge in Nancy’s voice, even from a distance, though you can’t make out the words. Jonathan follows your gaze, his brow furrowing. You can’t blame him for looking the way he does—he’s been around long enough to know the dance between Steve and Nancy.

“Is she okay?” you ask, your voice quiet, though it feels more like an automatic question than one you really expect an answer to. You’ve seen enough of this cycle to know the routine.

Jonathan glances over, shaking his head just slightly. “I don’t think so,” he says, a rare seriousness in his tone. “But you know Nancy. She’ll push through.”

You feel the knot in your stomach tighten as you watch Steve’s stance shift, his body leaning toward Nancy as if trying to reach her without crowding her, trying to give her space but also not let her slip too far away. There’s something fragile in the air, something more than just the tension between them. It’s like Steve’s holding on by a thread, and maybe Nancy is, too, but neither of them wants to admit it.

“You should probably go talk to them,” Jonathan says, glancing at you. He doesn’t know what to say either, but it’s obvious that Steve’s been trying to manage things on his own. You could step in—or let him handle it.

You glance at Jonathan again, silently debating what to do. Jonathan nudges you gently with his elbow. “You good?” he asks. You nod, taking a step forward, your voice hesitant but warm. “Hey, guys, what’s going on?” you ask, trying to break through the tension without adding to it.

Nancy shoots you a sharp look before turning away, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got that defeated, yet resigned, look on his face as he exhales deeply. He’s trying to hide it, but the frustration is written all over him.

“Just the usual,” Steve says with a small, forced smile, looking at you.

Nancy, still with her arms crossed, shoots you a look that says more than her words do. It’s not that she’s mad at you; it’s just that she doesn’t want to be the center of attention right now. She’s not ready to have the conversation.

Jonathan stands by you, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to say something. You don’t know what the right thing is. The silence in the room is thick now.

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” Nancy slurs, her words trailing off as she pushes past Steve, who’s still trying to calm her down.

“Please don’t,” Steve says, his voice low and frustrated, but he’s too late. He sighs and chases after her, leaving you standing alone for the moment.

Not long after, a voice you’re starting to recognize from the past few days calls out from behind you.

“So if I’m Knight Rider, then who does that make you?” Billy’s voice is smooth, cocky, and unmistakable. He’s standing just a few feet away now, that grin still plastered on his face.

You turn to meet his gaze, letting a playful smile tug at the corners of your lips. You raise an eyebrow, a silent challenge in your eyes. “You’ll have to learn more about me to find out.”

He steps a little closer, eyes narrowing with amusement. “When?”

The question hangs in the air, and for a split second, you feel that old rush of excitement—the thrill of the unknown. Remembering your mom’s less-than-subtle hints this morning, you decide to play along.

“How about Wednesday night? We can go see the new Terminator movie. You look like someone who appreciates a little Arnold Schwarzenegger,” you say, testing the waters, letting a hint of flirtation slip into your voice.

Billy doesn’t hesitate, that confident grin of his widening. “It’s a date. I’ll pick you up. And…I’ve been to the gym Arnold works out in.” 

You raise your hand to stop him, a slight smirk on your face. “Right…I’m sure you have. Also, I’ve seen how you drive your car. Maybe I’ll meet you there,” you tease, enjoying the playful banter.

He chuckles, stepping back, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. “I’ll go nice and slow just for you.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, the tension between you both shifting into something lighter, something you haven’t felt in a while. But as you look past him, your eyes flicker briefly to Steve, catching him trying to pry the solo cup out of Nancy’s hand. Just as the music halts, that red solo cup and the red mystery punch within it spills all over Nancy’s white shirt. 

Her face is in complete disbelief, she sways back and forth her reaction clearly slowed down by her alcohol intake.

“Screw you.” 

Jonathan follows her quickly into the bathroom. 

“You know,” Billy starts again, “Rumor has it that you and Harrington have quite the colorful history? Why is it that you two aren’t prom king and queen this year?” 

Something in Billy’s tone instantly makes you second-guess your plans for Wednesday. His fading smirk tells you he’s noticed the flash of disdain on your face.

“What does it matter if you’re the one taking me on a date Wednesday?” you say, your voice edged with a warning. You’re feeling oddly protective over you and Harrington’s history, a past that’s none of Billy’s business.

Billy raises an eyebrow, caught off guard but intrigued. “Fair enough,” he replies, but the cocky glint in his eyes lingers, as if he’s still sizing up the situation.

Shortly after, you spot Steve storming out of the bathroom alone, Nancy nowhere in sight. His expression is tense as he heads straight for the drink station, a familiar frustration in his stride. You catch a glimpse of Jonathan making his way toward Nancy, so you turn to Billy with a polite excuse and make your way over to Steve.

“Hey, you don’t need to be drinking any more right now,” you say, noticing that Steve has downed two cups of punch in the short walk it took to reach him.

“I’ve got a pretty damn good reason to,” he mutters, his jaw tight as he opens a beer.

“Steve, you don’t have to tell me what happened, but at least think about the fact that you still have to drive home,” you warn, trying to keep your tone light.

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes. “You can drive me.”

“I never volunteered for that,” you reply, crossing your arms.

For a moment, he looks at you, really looks at you, and you can tell he’s realizing that things are different. You’re not just there to pick up his pieces anymore. You have your own life to live tonight—a party to enjoy, and maybe even boys to dance with. The weight of another round of Steve-and-Nancy drama? That’s not something you’re willing to carry this time.

“You’re right,” Steve says, setting the beer down with a sigh. “I’ll just go sit out on the porch and sober up a bit. Then I’ll head out. And I wanna make sure Nancy gets home safe.”

You give his arm a quick squeeze, silently admiring that, even in the middle of an argument, he’s still looking out for her. That is… until his gaze drifts to the front door, where he sees Jonathan helping a barely-standing Nancy out to his car.

Crap.

“Go sit on the porch. I’ll be right there,” you say quickly, hinting you’ll handle it. You rush outside to catch up with Jonathan. “You know how this looks, right?”

Jonathan gives a solemn nod. “She asked me.”

Nancy lifts her head slightly, her words slurred and muddled. “I don’t want… Steve to take me home. Not Steve. I want to see Barb’s parents. Take me to Barb’s house.”

You pause, taken aback. “Barb’s parents? Why do you want to see Barb’s parents right now?”

Jonathan stiffens, worry flickering in his eyes. “Uh, I really think I should get her home now. Maybe check on Steve too.”

Without another word, they’re off, leaving you standing in the night with a sense of unease. You know Barbara Holland was Nancy’s best friend, missing since last year. But why would she bring that up now? And why with such urgency?

You find Steve out back, leaning against the porch railing, eyes glazed with frustration and a hint of sadness.

“Steve…why would Nancy want to see Barb’s parents tonight?”

He shakes his head slowly, the alcohol clearly loosening his grip on restraint. “God, I wish I could tell you everything right now. It would make things so much easier. You’re my best friend. I tell you everything. But for the past year, I’ve been keeping so many secrets from you.”

A pit forms in your stomach. “What do you mean, Steve?”

He looks at you, eyes haunted, and whispers, “If I told you, you’d die.”

You laugh nervously, trying to shake the unease settling over you. “C’mon, it can’t be that serious.”

“There’s stuff going on around here that you have no clue about.” He reaches up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face, his fingers lingering a second longer than they should. Your heart skips, half hoping this is just the alcohol, half hoping it’s not. He always does this, walks that fine line.

His voice cracks slightly as he murmurs, “I just want to keep you safe.”

In that moment, you realize it’s not just words—it’s a plea, and you can feel the weight of something dark lurking just beyond his gaze, something he desperately wants to shield you from. 

You give Steve a gentle pinch, trying to ground him. “I’m safe, Steve. I’m right here, see?”

But he only shakes his head, eyes dark with something close to dread. “Here is where it’s least safe. Those things… they’re out there.”

A chill runs down your spine. “What things, Steve?” You search his face, recognizing the unmistakable truth behind his words.

He just looks away, jaw clenched. Instinctively, your mind flashes back to last year, the disappearances of Will Byers and Barb. Then Nancy and Jonathan, vanishing for days without a word. Everyone assumed Jonathan had to hold things together while Joyce spiraled, refusing to believe her son was dead. There was even a funeral, and she still wouldn’t admit it. Then, against all logic, Will came back with no real explanation.

You remember Steve acting strangely after everything went down. He kept trying to make peace with Jonathan over the fight they got into outside the movie theater, but he dodged every question you asked about the night he went to Jonathan’s house, laughing nervously or changing the subject so fast it left you spinning. Then there was the night you found a bat in the trunk of his car—nails hammered into it like some kind of makeshift weapon. When you questioned him, he just shrugged it off, calling it a “guy thing,” and you let it go, though every instinct told you there was more to the story.

Whenever you pushed for answers, Steve would wave it off, teasing you about reading too many mysteries and spending too much time theorizing. But seeing the fear in his eyes now, the weight he’s carrying, it hits you like a punch: you were right to question everything. And he knows it, too.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You drive Steve’s car back to his house, figuring you’ll pick up your mom’s in the morning. One night won’t matter.

Helping him up to his room, you can’t shake the strange coincidences piling up around Hawkins.

“I missed this,” he mumbles, settling onto his bed.

“What?”

“You… in my room,” he says softly, grabbing your hand. “Stay tonight. Don’t leave.”

“You have a girlfriend, Steve. I don’t stay over when you have a girlfriend.”

He sighs, eyes full of something almost desperate. “What kind of girlfriend says she isn’t really in love with you?”

You freeze. “I’m sorry—what?”

“She said we’re just… acting like we’re in love,” he says, voice rough with frustration and something else.

You can see it—the hurt he’s tried to bury, the way he’s tried so hard to be enough for someone. To finally feel wanted.

His arms slip around your waist, his head resting against your stomach, and you feel his shoulders shake. Silent tears he doesn’t want you to see.

“Hey, hey… She was drunk, okay? Everyone says stupid things when they’re drunk. Talk to her tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”

“She meant it,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

You gently push him back onto the bed, pulling the covers over him. “You’ve got a long day tomorrow, Steve. Get some rest, and we’ll figure out the Nancy thing together.”

You hate to leave him like this, but you know it’s the right thing to do. So, once again, you walk away, leaving your best friend alone with his heartbreak and the last traces of alcohol on his breath. Another turn in the endless cycle that is your friendship—always there for him, even as it pulls you back into the same, unbroken loop.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The next day, Billy and Steve square off on the basketball court, the air thick with tension. Billy’s been taunting him non-stop, poking at Steve’s so-called “King Steve” reputation like it’s a worn-out joke. But Steve keeps his cool, mostly.

Until Billy casually drops your name.

“So tell me, Harrington,” Billy sneers with a smirk, “what made you go for the Wheeler girl over Y/N?”

Steve feels the muscles in his jaw clench, but he doesn’t take the bait. He knows better than to react. But Billy’s not done. He moves closer, a low chuckle escaping as he continues, “I mean, the King and the Princess of Hawkins High—cute match and all. But damn, man, have you seen the hips on her? Perfect for holding onto. Word is you already took her for a test drive, too. So I gotta wonder… why didn’t you ever claim her? Or maybe you just weren’t man enough?”

Steve’s control snaps. He shoves Billy hard, fire in his eyes as he stands inches from him, fists clenched. “Say one more thing about her. I dare you.”

Billy laughs, clearly enjoying himself, but there’s an edge to Steve’s stance, a fierce protectiveness that makes even Billy pause. Steve glares, his voice low and dangerous. “Y/N’s worth more than someone like you will ever know. So keep her name out of your mouth, or you’ll regret it.”

Right on cue, Nancy’s soft voice cuts through the tension. “Steve?” She stands just a few feet away, looking pale and uneasy, clearly having seen the entire thing unfold.

Billy smirks, throwing a last taunt over his shoulder. “Good luck, Harrington.” He saunters off, leaving Steve standing there, fists still clenched, his heart pounding.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

“Y/N!” your mom calls from downstairs. “Steve is here!”

Steve coming through the front door? That’s unusual—he’s always climbed the vines up to your window. You quickly spray a bit of perfume, fix your hair, then catch yourself in the mirror. Why are you even putting in effort for him?

When you come down, your mom throws you an excited smile, her back to Steve so he can’t see. She’s still holding onto that hope she’s had since first grade that you and Steve would end up together.

And then there he is, standing in the entryway with a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorite. Your heart stumbles as you take in every inch of him. For a brief second, you let yourself imagine you’re the only girl he brings flowers to. But realistically, he’s probably just coming from Nancy’s or on his way there next.

He hands you the flowers, his gaze lingering. “Thank you for everything.”

“It’s no big deal,” you say, trying to steady your voice.

“Well, I should get going,” he says, and your heart sinks. That’s it? 

“But, uh, make sure to open your window. There’s a nice breeze out tonight,” he adds with a wink. You bite back a smile, catching on.

You say your goodbyes and dash up the stairs, ignoring your mom’s questions as Steve leaves. You open your window, sitting on your bed, waiting for him like you have a hundred times before. Somehow, after all these years, the excitement still feels brand new.

“Miss me?” He slips through the window, quietly so your mom doesn’t hear, and makes himself at home. He turns on your record player, the soft hum of music filling the room, then joins you on the bed.

He stares down at his hands. “I’m sorry for the position I put you in last night. It wasn’t fair, and you deserve better.”

You try to catch his gaze, but he’s clearly embarrassed. “That’s what best friends are for,” you say, hoping to ease his guilt.

You bite your tongue, unsure whether to bring up what he shared last night—but you’ve never hidden things from each other, and you don’t want to start now. “You told me about Nancy… how she said it felt like you were just acting in love.”

He sighs, defeated. “Yeah. I confronted her about it today. Asked if she could say she loved me, and she couldn’t.”

Your heart aches for him. “I’m sorry, Steve. Maybe she’s just… having a moment. A lot’s happened this year.”

The silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unsaid words.

“I’m gonna bring her flowers after this. I don’t think it’ll change anything, but she deserves an apology for everything I put her through,” he finally says, breaking the quiet. You smile, resting your hand on his knee. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He looks down at your hand on his knee, his fingers hovering for a moment before he covers it with his own. His expression softens, a hint of something he quickly tries to hide, but you can see it—a sadness mixed with a reluctant acceptance, like he knows exactly what all of this means.

He lets out a quiet sigh, staring at your intertwined hands. There’s a heaviness in his eyes. Like even if things with Nancy are ending, there’s something between you and him that’s never quite let go.

His fingers tighten around yours, just for a second, before he releases your hand and gives you a small, bittersweet smile.

“You should go,” you whisper. You don’t want him to. But he needs to. 

He reluctantly resigns himself.

“Can I come pick you up in an hour? Maybe we can go to the movies or something?”

You know you should say no, but you can’t. “If you and Nancy aren’t making out and making up within the next hour then yes, we can go to a movie.” 

He stares at you, and you can’t quite read him. You avert your gaze. 

“It’s so funny,” he speaks almost as if he can’t believe himself, “No matter what…or who…I always need you.” 

And with that he’s out the window and on his way to try and win back another woman.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

[deanvhs]

cruising — dean winchester

content / you and dean get in a fight when she starts getting angry for no reason.

warnings / transfem!dean winchester, internalised homophobia, John hates his kids, angst, implied smut.

“C’mon, De.” You frown, moving closer on the bed. Sam was out getting dinner so you and Dean had the motel room all to yourselves. You even kissed Sam’s cheek goodbye to ask him if he can take Baby out for a few spins. Thankfully he agreed, but now Dean’s rejecting your advances. Since when?

“No! I already told you, the walls are too damn thin in here.” Your patience is running thin. Seriously since when does the infamous Dean Winchester care about the staff knocking your door? Or some angry neighbors? Dean once fucked you in the Imapala on a highway, you’re not sure that’s the real reason.

“You’re lying to me, honey.” Her face visibly softens at your words but she stands up anyways, taking off her jacket. You’d all got back from the successful hunt hours ago and showered but somehow Dean had wrapped herself in Sam’s jacket the second she came out of the shower. It was confusing now that she’s taking it off. This whole thing was confusing. 

“Dean, look, I’m not pressuring you or anything, but you’re lying to me. You love post-hunt sex. You’re the one who always initiates it too so I thought I’d give you a surprise, you know? But if it isn’t what you want, I understand—”

“It’s not like that!” You’re waiting for her to elaborate and when she doesn’t, you sigh. Great, you’re both getting nowhere in this conversation. “I’m going out.” She mumbles before walking out of the motel room and slamming the door behind her. 

Another very stable, very productive conversation in the Winchester household. You tie your hair back and put a coat on before running out after her. Baby isn’t anywhere near here so the only other place she’d be is the vending machine. It’s kind of like trying to find a twelve year old in an arcade. 

There she is, in all her glory, frowning at the vending machine like it’s personally offended her (you’re sure all it did was its job, but oh well). “Hey, Dee.” You sigh into the space between you when you’re close enough to touch her biceps, interlocking your arm in hers. ”you okay?”

“‘M fuckin’ peachy.”

“What you are is mean.” You scoff, but it’s only half hearted. You want to help her, not blame her. “And you’re also a big liar who won’t tell me what’s wrong so I can make it better.”

“You’re not my damn guardian, you don’t need to know—”

“Please, Dean.” You exhale, tired. “Just humor me.”

She seems to have finally given up on her quest to be unbearing. “Whatever. You just— I don’t want to have sex, okay?”

“Totally understandable, can I know why? I won’t try to change your mind, I would just like to know the reason.”

She rolls her eyes, hits the vending machine one more time so a chocolate bar drops down along with your favorite juice box. When you’re twenty something, you learn to enjoy the finer things in life like juice boxes and chocolates rather than beer and whatever the hell else.

She leans down to grab them, hands you yours. You thank her with a kiss on her arm. “Baby.” It comes out like a plea more than a warning. 

“You do this thing.” She mumbles, looking down at her chocolate bar to open it. Your heart clenched before she could even keep going, an ugly emotion tugging on your chest. You do this thing? 

Sure, you’re new to the whole relationship thing as a hunter and especially with Dean. Dean’s… not what you expected at all when you first saw her. You didn’t even know she was a her until very very later on. Even Sam found out later than you. She somehow feels like she doesn’t deserve to be called that, like her dad would kill her and if he wouldn’t approve she can’t possibly do it behind his back. 

But John can go fuck himself for all you care (he’s dead anyways so it isn’t like he can object), you love Dean. She deserves everything in this world and the next— she fucking died for her brother, it’s unreal that she would think she doesn’t deserve the simple act of being who she truly is.

“Hey? Hey, you with me? Sweetheart?” You focus back on Dean with a small pout you didn’t notice was on your face till now. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Oh, uh, you just say this thing— you call me something and I don’t know, just don’t think—”

“Dean, if I have ever made you uncomfortable during sex you have to tell me. I can’t believe you’d ever keep that from me.” Dean’s a pretty soft lover, you’d learned quickly, while she does enjoy to get with every woman she laid eyes on before she had you, she isn’t rough with them, she’ll make sure they’re ready first, very giving, and take her time. 

You can’t possibly think of anything you’d do to make her not want to sleep with you… you’re pretty sure you’re the first person in her life she’s ever been fully transparent with and you thought that’s a good thing, you thought you handled it pretty well, but maybe you were wrong.

She clears her throat, still not looking you in the eye, the wrappers off the chocolate but it’s clear she’s using it as a distraction, “you, uh, call me stuff. Stuff like, i don't know, pretty girl or whatever.”

Oh.

“Oh. I’m—” God, you feel like an idiot. A stupid fucking idiot for ever assuming she’d be okay with pet names. She’s just as new to this as you are, you’re the first person she’s ever expressed herself with and you’re ruining it for her. You need air. Even if you’re outside— fuck. “Dean, I’m sorry, I had no idea you didn’t like it and you should’ve told me the first time!” Though, you’d only slept together a handful of times since she’s come out to you, “I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable and I’m so sorry I did—”

Her face contorts as she shakes her head, waving her hand around, “‘s fine.” She dismisses and you can practically feel how red your cheeks are with shame. So fucking stupid. For embarrassing her. For making the one thing she always made sure was comfortable for you, unenjoyable for her. Dean won’t die without sex but she fucking loves it and, you ruined it for her. 

“Sorry, Dean.” You mutter again before turning around and running back to your room. This is all— way too much, is what is it. You can’t think properly with her standing right in front of you not looking you in the fucking eyes. She’s the Dean Winchester. Forget the sexy reputation, what about the hunter one?  She’s never acted like this before and now it’s because of you. 

She trusted you with the most important thing in her life, her identity, and you—

A loud, aggressive knock sounds on the door and your hand instantly hovers over your gun. It happens one more time before you have it aimed at the door, waiting for the intruder to come in, drying the tears that were welling up in your eyes. “Come in!”

“I would, don’t have the key though.” 

Oh, it’s Dean. You put the weapon back where it belongs (though you keep a hand on it in case you need it) before opening the door. “Hey, sweetheart.” She says sweetly, her smile kind of watery. Is that because of you too? Great. You’re doing real well in the girlfriend department.

“Hi, sorry, I totally forgot I had it.” 

“‘S fine, don’t worry about it.” She shuts the door behind her, her back against the wood as she looks down on you. You’re about to pull away from the whole interaction, say you’re tired or something, before she pulls you back in, both hands on your waist. “Hey, c’mon, it’s okay, we’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, I didn’t, didn’t mean to make you think we weren’t. I’m just— disappointed in myself, I guess. And sad. You should’ve told me, I’ve said it a hundred time since you first came out and I didn’t even think of how it would affect you. You know how much I love calling you different things and I don’t know, I guess it slipped out and it was so selfish—”

“I love it.”

“What?”

“The names? Love them. All of them. Every single thing you call me makes me stop breathin’ for a second ‘cause I can’t believe how goddamn lucky I am to have you.” You're breathing’s not supposed to be this fast, right? “It makes me… God, makes me crazy thinkin’ of you saying those words but I can’t, sweetheart, okay? As much as I love ‘em, they’re not— me. They’re not who I am.”

“Because you don’t feel like that’s who you are or because of the whole ‘you don’t deserve’ them thing because I’m telling you now, if it’s the second one, I’m going to be really mad at you.” When she doesn’t respond, tightens her lips, you frown. “Dean, seriously?”

“Look—”

You don’t let her get the words in before you’re crashing your lips onto hers, your hands running through her hair while she kisses you back just as passionately, just as hard and wanting. She pushes off the door to slam you into it so she’s more in control, like she always is. “Dee,” you whisper into her lips and she pulls back with an urgent nod, all signs of hesitation erased from her eyes. “I love you.”

And maybe it’s the wrong thing to say, she’s not usually the type of girl and you know that, but she has to hear it. Has to hear it from you. “Love you so so much, dee. You know that, right?” She nods quickly like she wants the conversation to be over so she attaches her lips back onto yours before you pull away again.

“So tonight’s ‘bout you, pretty girl.” Her breath hitches and you see her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as you stand on your toes to kiss between them. “Baby, I’m not gonna let you keep thinking that crap. No one on earth deserves this more than you, okay? And if you feel uncomfortable, or you change your mind, sure, we’ll stop, but it sure as hell won’t be because of your screwed up perception of yourself.”

She nods, almost mezmorized and leans back in. Her soft lips against yours, so fucking beautiful and the way her fingers work delicately to remove your shirt, succeeding as she moves on to the bra straps. Despite the same hands hunting monsters and sometimes the devil himself, she’s so patient and soft with you, her little moans as your hand moves down to graze her clothes cock, her green orbs flashing you when she opens her eyes to tell you ‘bed’ as if you didn’t just say that you’re in change tonight.

Technically, you did say it’s about her, and if the way she likes it is by being in control, you don’t mind givin’ it to her one bit. As long as you get to praise her all the way through it. 

She kisses down your neck, biting down a little on your sensitive areas, earning moans that make you arch your back, mostly try for some friction. She smiles against your skin, moving further down till she gets to your bra, removes it completely and latches onto your nipple, “fuck, dee, yes. so pretty, so gorgeous for me, makin’ me feel good, ah!” She takes your other one between her fingers and you can’t help the sounds escaping you. She pulls away to tsk. 

“Keep quiet, sweetheart. Wasn’t jokin’ about those thin walls.” Unfortunately for you, by thin she means you can hear the teenage boy and his parents talking through the wall right behind you. So, it’s practically a closet door between the two rooms but you couldn’t care less. And she seems to only care to shut you up with her mouth.

Except she doesn’t. She comes back up, your skin itching with her sudden withdrawal. Before you can protest she has her thumb sit king your lips, “now, sweetheart, what’d I say?” 

“I need to be quiet.” She smirks down at you, nodding, waiting for you to continue, “‘nd I wasn’t quiet.”

“Mm,” she brushes her thumb against your lips one more time before she slips it past them, your teeth grazing it before she lays it flat on your tongue and your first instinct is to bring your hands up to her wrist, wrapping around it to keep her in place, and sucking. “Fuck, baby.”

She groans, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead then going back to your neck, pulling all kinds of pretty moans. 

+

Needless to say, the night turns out great, no thanks to her communication skills. And you tell her as much when you’re both relaxing on the bed after, you’re still catching your breath in her arms and she’s smiling down at you, plants one last kiss to your hair.

“You know this could’ve all been easily avoided if we’d just talked, right?” She huffs from above you and it’s quite painfully the most obvious reaction she’s ever had. Dean’s angry. Maybe not at this exact moment, and not burning red, but she is. She’s not comfortable in her own skin most of the time and it’s no longer because she hasn’t come out, it’s because she did. 

She did, she has people who love and support her and she can’t stand that. She thought the second she came out with you and her brother would flee the country and maybe boo at her, but the fact that you both stayed eats at her more than she’d ever admit— she feels like a fraud. A failure as an older sister— older brother. 

And what’s worse is that she knows she’s as transparent as glass with you, that you’re reading her every thought right now without even looking her in the face. “Dean, c’mon, honey, you can’t keep thinkin’ like this— or I mean, technically you can, free will and all, but I’d rather you not.” You don’t repeat the three words you want to so desperately say, you know she’s reached her quota on chick-flicks. “I’m gonna keep calling you these names because you like them. And because they make you feel like yourself and I simply do not care what you say after that.”

She has nothing to say anyways, just closes her eyes and rests her head on yours, hoping you’ll still be there in the morning.

difference for me between calling transfem Sam and Dean pretty girl and them freaking out is that Sam (as always) is self deprecating and doesn’t feel like she deserves that. She doesn’t feel pretty and she doesn’t feel like she deserves having someone she loves lying to her. For dean, although she’s pretty self deprecating herself, it’s mostly about John. Like most of where her trauma stems from, she can’t understand why the person she loves would ever say that to her knowing it’s not right and it’s unclean to be anything other than the biggest guy in the room. And sure she came out, and shes comfortable with you and Sam and maybe she’ll even tell cas one day, but she values her reputation above all because that’s what John taught her. Thanks for listening  to my Ted talk, please buy a cookie on your way out!!!

[suddenly-stickmin]

can I just say ur art just makes my days when I need it? :p

The art of the trio just makes my heart melt a lot. Ur artstyle makes this even more better with how animated and expressive the art is! 11/10! :D

WHATTTTT THANK YOU SO MUUCHHHHH IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THHAAAATTT I love this trio so much as well, they're a joy to draw and I'm so glad to hear you like too!!

[entirelysein-e]

Back to normal Navi

The dreaded post has come...

I will not finish this years Kinktober on here. Opening tumblr has become a chore for me more than anything. It sparks no joy, I dont want to scroll dash anymore, I don't bother to keep up with anyone anymore on here.

My interests have shifted greatly over the past few weeks and I found my way back to crafting, gaming and even playing the bass again. At the moment I don't enjoy animanga / fandom on tumblr and wish to no longer participate or create for it.

I'm 99% certain that this is just a mood and I will most definitely be back but as of now I have no motivation or interest to create for tumblr. I'll be here every once in a while and answer asks should I get any and to still do background work in my network but otherwise it will be silent until I found my love and passion for all of this again.

There is no point in forcing myself to write for characters I do not care for, to force myself to keep up with the latest stuff that changes every 2 weeks. I will be selfish now and put myself first until my love has returned- be it 2 weeks, 2 months or 2 years.

- Much love, Luma.

[fatuismooches]

EVEN MORE CUTE DOTTORE MOMENTS TO MAKE YOU SMILE 🙏 (because I am too tired to post anything of quality)

[lilaira]

Hey there!

I’m currently looking for love as a potential pansexual and I was wondering if you would have any advice on finding a partner (or multiple?). Also your artwork SLAPS

Make an enderman ask blog. Just kidding.

Unless...

[galaxystt]

May I please eat your sl scar design,,

absolutely, here you go!! he tastes like smoke and bad decisions (and a lot of pickles)

[deoidesign]

hi. I just read your entire comic in one go and I’ve gotta say I am in love with it. as a trans guy with hair that looks so much like Steve’s and who loves werewolves, I had to physically restrain myself from squealing out loud upon realizing he was trans, because I am currently living in a room with five other people in a small community in rural Alaska and didn’t want to explain to them the joys of seeing yourself in a character and then realizing “oh shit they’re trans like me”. I hope you are doing well, and may the gods of creativity and carpal tunnel bless you with much fruit in your artistic endeavors.

how could I ever show how deeply messages like this touch me... I never know what to say, I want so badly to have the proper words to show you how grateful I am

This is why I write. so that people get to feel like this, and I could never reflect that properly with just my words... But I want you to know that.

I hope to make something that is worthy of your love, and I hope every day that my work is sufficient to show I love you. so I'm relieved that it's succeeding and you feel seen.

Thank you for sharing this with me, I love you