#looked away from this one to get some food and when i came back that was my reaction

[bearrverine]

MY SHAYLAAAAA :(

my shayla :((

also PLEASE!!! go follow my art blog, i might start cross posting instead of reblogging or leaving my art exclusive to my art blog, so if you want to see my art please go over there!

[dean-samw67]

Lesbian here, could you write Hyun-Ju x Chubby f!reader where Hyun-Ju is really into chubby girls but is afraid to fully express that to the reader until they have a conversation about it?

That conversation then results in lesbian sex where Hyun-Ju is a bit more submissive to her chubby girlfriend (like, having reader sit on her face, riding, body-worship)

And then they cuddle afterwards because Hyun-Ju deserves cuddles and love >:3

⍣ ೋInsecurities⍣ ೋ

AFAB!Fem!Reader x Cho Hyun-Ju

WARNING: BODY INSECURITY, A BIT OF GENDER DYSPHORIA, SMUT, FACE RIDING, SESBIAN LEX, HURT COMFORT, SWEARING, MINORS DNI

(Thank you for the request! I have been wanting to write for her because I adore her so much! I hope you enjoy it!)

Word count: 2638

Hyun-ju woke to a bright stream of light shining through the opening of the cream colored curtains that covered the bedroom window. The smell of food cooking came from outside the room. Hyun-ju sat up with a sigh and a stretch. She wore a thin silk nightgown that her girlfriend bought for her when she saw how she eyed it. Hyun-ju never thought she could comfortably wear this for a while until Y/n came around. 

Hyun-ju slipped out of the bed and made her way to the bathroom, using it and washing her hands and face before going to the kitchen. The smell of the food only got stronger. She turns the corner, taking in the sight of Y/n setting some plates with egg dumplings with some rice. She admires the way her partner swiftly moved.

As Y/n sets the plates she sneaks up behind her, arms snaking around her waist and hands resting on her belly. Hyun-ju takes notice of the way Y/n tenses when her hands go to her stomach. Hyun-ju furrows her eyebrows before speaking, “Good morning.” Her voice remains soft, worried that maybe she startled Y/n.

“Good morning.” Y/n’s voice seemed almost forced as she suddenly was out of Hyun-ju’s arms and moving to the table with the plates. She sets one at each of the seats. Pulling out a chair, Y/n takes a seat, one arm around her stomach at the other is used to eat. Hyun-ju walks over and pulls out the chair next to her, sitting as well. She glances at Y/n worriedly as she eats slowly. 

She goes to talk but Y/n beats her to it. “Can you not stare today?” Hyun-ju’s eyebrows knit together in slight confusion. Y/n’s tone was not mean or anything of the sort. More upset than anything. 

“I…” Hyun-ju was a little lost as to what was going on but just nods and looks down at the food in front of her. “Alright.” Her voice was small. She rubs her arm nervously, unsure what this is about. Hyun-ju couldn’t help but wonder if it was something she did. Or maybe her partner was feeling unsure about this relationship suddenly? Her mind filled with dread at the idea of it. Y/n had always been supportive and accepting but Hyun-ju can’t think of a time she reacted like this to her affection. Hyun-ju can’t help but worry that maybe something has changed? 

~~~

After that the two were a little tense for the rest of the day. Y/n went out to the shops after that. Alone. They always went together. Hyun-ju sat and watched the tv, the interaction this morning playing over in her head. She was just so confused. She sits up quickly when she sees the front door open and Y/n walks in. Y/n doesn’t even acknowledge Hyun-ju as she shuts the door and carries the groceries to the kitchen, looking quite upset about something. 

Hyun-ju gets up and follows Y/n to the kitchen. She stands in the archway, watching as Y/n busies herself by putting away the groceries. Hyun-ju had a frown on her face, crossing her arms. 

“What's wrong?” She breaks the silence with a worried voice. 

Y/n looks up at her girlfriend and laughs a bit but it sounded more sad than anything. “Nothing.” Her voice was not certain. 

“Something is wrong. You have been weird all day.” Hyun-ju walks over to Y/n, trying to figure her out like a puzzle. 

“No. Nope.” Y/n shakes her head and goes back to putting the groceries away. Hyun-ju sighs, trying not to push. 

“Let me put these away.” She takes the bag from Y/n. Y/n looks up at her. It was in her eyes. She would break any moment. Whatever it was, she was not having a good day. “Go relax.” Hyun-ju insists. 

Y/n goes to argue but then lets out a defeated huff and nods, walking from the kitchen to the bedroom. Hyun-ju takes over, putting away the groceries in their shared home. She furrows her brows as she thinks about how off Y/n has been today. She knows she has off mental days. Maybe that’s what this is. She decides after putting groceries away that she will check. 

She puts the last few things away and then heads to their shared bedroom. She sees the door was left open and turns the corner to see Y/n standing in the body length mirror, eyeing herself in it. She was only in her bra and underwear, judgement clouding her eyes. Hyun-ju feels her heart shatter as she realizes the reason Y/n was acting so strange today. 

She takes a deep breath before walking into the room. “Honey…” Her voice was gentle. Y/n looks at her through the mirror with tear filled eyes. “Talk to me.” She says, gently rubbing her girlfriends bare arms as she stands behind her. 

“I…” Y/n chokes but looks down at her feet, sniffling before trying again. “I just hate how I look today. And then some asshole on the street was laughing with his friend at me. I just… Wish I didn’t look like this.”

“Like what? All I see is perfection.” Hyun-ju says, feeling sad from how her lover talked about herself. And angry at the careless people in public. 

“But how?” Y/n sniffles again as she looks at herself. 

“Because being plus-size doesn’t make you not perfect. I quite like it actually.” Hyun-ju says, her hands caressing along Y/n’s sides. 

“You do?” Y/n asks, eyebrows furrowed a bit, voice a little strained. 

“Of course. I mean, look at you. Probably one of the most beautiful people I have laid eyes on. Including your body. You have the body of a goddess. A body worth worshipping.” Hyun-ju’s eyes travel over each inch of Y/n’s body. Y/n lifts her head to look back at her. Hyun-ju returns her eyes to focus on Y/n’s eyes. 

“You really feel that way?” Y/n asks, slowly turning in her girlfriend's arms so she was facing her. 

“Yes.” Hyun-ju nods before leaning down to capture Y/n’s lips in a soft, loving kiss for a few seconds. “You are so sexy.” Hyun-ju chuckles and places soft kisses on her partner's neck. Y/n giggles and her arms go around Hyun-ju’s neck. 

“Well, so are you.” Y/n smiles as she pulls Hyun-ju towards their bed, turning as they reach it to push Hyun-ju to sit in front of her. She cups her face and caresses her cheeks gently. Hyun-ju’s hands find their way to Y/n’s hips, hands rubbing along her stomach and waist. Y/n’s skin was smooth under her touch aside from rising goosebumps occasionally. “Hyun-ju…” her name falls off Y/n’s lips like a little prayer. 

Hyun-ju looks up at her lover, pupils dilating as she takes in every detail. Y/n pushes Hyun-ju onto her back, kissing her again as she climbs onto the bed and settles on top of Hyun-ju, legs on either side of her hips. Hyun-ju can’t help but let out a soft gasp of surprise, hands finding Y/n’s waist. 

Y/n trails her hands over Hyun-ju’s chest, gently cupping her breasts into her hands. Hyun-ju arches her chest into Y/n’s hands with a soft moan. Y/n chuckles softly before moving her hands down to the hem of Hyun-ju’s shirt. She glides her hands over her soft skin as she lifts the shirt. Y/n gives Hyun-ju’s breasts a gentle squeeze before breaking the kiss. The two work together to swiftly lift her shirt off her body, Hyun-ju sitting up a bit to make it easy. 

She falls back onto the bed again after the shirt is off and is abandoned to the floor. Y/n sits up, still straddling Hyun-ju, admiring the woman below her. She stares at her flushed face as her messy hair is fanned out behind her head. Hyun-ju’s hands run up and down over Y/n’s sides as she watches her eyes take her in. She bites her lower lip a bit, feeling a bit nervous under her partner's stare. 

It was normal for Hyun-ju to feel like that sometimes. She was still in the process of her surgeries so she was hesitant at times. Y/n was pretty attentive and understanding, never pushing her past her limits. 

Y/n leans down placing gentle, loving kisses to her girlfriends chest, down in between her breasts as her hands cup the underside of each. She kisses the sides, her lips trailing over her skin. Y/n worshipped Hyun-ju just as much as Hyun-ju worshipped Y/n. Y/n’s hands trail down her stomach reaching the band of her pants, tips of her fingers slipping just under the band. The muscles under Y/n’s fingers tense and Hyun-ju lets out a gasp as she is pulled from her bliss and her mind is reminding her of those insecurities she carried. 

Y/n immediately noticed the change and lifted her head up to check on Hyun-ju. She saw it in her eyes. She knew that look. She quickly sits up, hands pulling away from Hyun-ju’s pants and getting off top of her, sitting beside her instead. Hyun-ju lets out a sigh. She’s not sure if it is in relief or disappointment of herself. She runs a hand over her face before looking over at Y/n.

“Sorry.” Y/n says as she crosses her legs. She didn’t take offence to it. Not one bit. She knew things like this were hard for Hyun-ju at times. She was always like this. Hyun-ju couldn’t be happier that she had such a respectful partner. 

“No, you don’t have to apologize.” Hyun-ju shakes her head. “I want to… I do. I just…”

“We both are having one of those days, it’s okay.” Y/n takes her girlfriend's hand and kisses it softly.

“We still can. Just… maybe we keep the pants on? I think I’ll be okay with that.” Hyun-ju props up on her elbows. 

“You sure?” Y/n asks and Hyun-ju nods eagerly. She did want to please Y/n. Like really bad. Y/n thinks for a moment before nodding and leans forward, kissing Hyun-ju again. Her hand comes up to hold her cheek. Y/n leans forward, nipping softly at Hyun-ju’s bottom lip. 

“Sit on my face.” Hyun-ju’s words fan across Y/n’s lips and send a rush of excitement straight to her core. 

“You-you sure? I don’t want to hurt you?” Y/n pulls back to meet her lover's eyes. Hyun-ju nods like the answer is obvious. 

“You won’t hurt me.” She says. Y/n takes a deep breath before nodding and slipping off her panties. At the same time, Hyun-ju is reaching behind Y/n’s back and unhooking her bra. Both articles of clothing are tossed to the floor and immediately Hyun-ju’s face is buried between Y/n’s breasts. Kissing the skin beneath her lips and cupping them, massaging them softly. Hyun-ju wraps her arms securely around Y/n and pulls her over and on top of her. Y/n lets out a gasp at the way Hyun-ju easily pulls her onto her. 

She sits up and inhales deeply before releasing her breath and crawling up, straddling Hyun-ju’s face. Hyun-ju closes her eyes as she takes in the musky scent of her girlfriend that drove her crazy. Her arms loop around Y/n’s thighs and grip them with her hands, pulling her down further. Y/n looks down at Hyun-ju below her, seeing her closed eyes before gasping as Hyun-ju’s tongue darts out to taste her. 

Y/n’s hands find Hyun-ju’s hair quickly and hold it almost as a way to have control. She grinds her hips down, clit rubbing on Hyun-ju’s nose. Y/n lets out a whine of pleasure as Hyun-ju’s tongue laps at the wetness gathered between her folds at the same time. Y/n’s head rolls back as she moans before rolling it forward again to get another look at the woman below her. 

Fuck, that was hot. “Good girl.” Y/n got a burst of confidence seeing how much Hyun-ju was into it. Those two words sent jolts of pleasure through Hyun-ju easily. Hyun-ju leans her chin up, latching onto Y/n’s swollen clit. “Ah!” Y/n gasps out and grips Hyun-ju’s hair tighter. She holds her head in place and grinds on her tongue. 

Hyun-ju can just make out soft moans and grunts with her face buried in between Y/n’s thighs. She would happily die here, like this. If there was one thing Hyun-ju loved doing, it was giving her girlfriend head. She wasn’t always up for receiving as of right now, while still waiting to finish her surgeries. Occasionally she would but not all the time. But giving was her specialty. She had no care if she got off. But getting Y/n off? Oh, she would do it a million times over. 

“That’s it, pretty girl.” Y/n groans, arching her back. Hyun-ju opens her eyes, staring up at Y/n as she uses her mouth to please herself. Hyun-ju’s hands move up and cup her stomach, caressing the skin lovingly. Y/n shudders a little under Hyun-ju’s touch, almost wanting to pull away but when she looks down and sees the admiration in Hyun-ju’s eyes she felt a swell in her heart. 

Y/n moans increase in pleasure, clit throbbing in Hyun-ju’s mouth as she sucks on it while Y/n grinds her hips back and forth. Hyun-ju knew she was close. All the telltale signs were there. So, she doubles her efforts, pulling Y/n down further onto her mouth. 

“Hyun-ju!” Y/n grips her hair tighter in an attempt to steady herself as she falls forward on the bed, feeling her body tip over the edge and release onto Hyun-ju’s face. Hyun-ju doesn’t stop as she makes sure to ride Y/n out through her orgasm. 

Y/n shudders as she comes down and her lowered whimpers tell Hyun-ju she is done. Hyun-ju pulls her mouth away and stares up at Y/n’s shaking form, rubbing her stomach back to her thighs in a comforting gesture. Y/n’s chest heaves as she catches her breath. 

“You alright?” Hyun-ju asks gently. Y/n nods and slowly removes herself off Hyun-ju’s face, going to just plop back on the bed from exhaustion. Hyun-ju is quick to catch her, hands resting on Y/n’s back and gently lowers her onto the mattress. As Y/n catches her breath, Hyun-ju gets up and goes into their connected bathroom. She returns with a small cup of water and a damp washcloth. 

She takes a seat back on the bed. She gently cleans Y/n up from her orgasm and then helps her sit up enough to sip some water. “There you go.” She whispers, setting the cup on the nightstand as Y/n lies back down. Hyun-ju slips out of her sweatpants before laying with Y/n, pulling her against her, wanting to offer as much skin to skin contact after that as she can. 

Y/n was appreciative of it as she rested her head against the top of Hyun-ju’s breasts. Hyun-ju strokes her hair, pushing it out of her face gently, admiring her love. She places a soft kiss to Y/n’s head whispering, “I love you.” 

Y/n gives a tired smile. “I love you more.” Hyun-ju rolls her eyes. Normally she’d argue, playfully of course, but seeing how sleepy she was she let it go this time. However, she would probably bring it up in the morning.

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[luckyartdrawer]

100 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE!!! MER AU!!!

Y'all chose the MER AU to celebrate, and so say hello to some fishy boys! They are all quite happy to see you, though some seem to show it more than others!

Cookie cutter shark Sun can't wait to take a bite- I mean- erm- rather a hug out of you! Either way he's quite excited!

Threadfin Eclipse would rather all eyes be on him, but he would settle for just yours! His colors shifts in every way, he's hoping your eyes won't stray!

Jellyfish Moon doesn't mean to be so imposing -- towards you anyways. He just wants to see you and everyone happens to be in the way!

This is technically a PT 1 to the celebration, as we have a Royal AU to roll out the red carpet for as well due to a tie in the poll!

It'll be a little while, as life, work, and some rest now and then is going to keep me away from finishing for a bit, but you will see our Royal soon enough lovelies! <3

vvv Sketch/line art and yapping below!!! vvv

Sketch/Line art

Hehehe I just had to share. I am so proud of how the lines came out. Sketch cleaned up as lineart method my beloved.

Uagh I keep looking back and seeing so many things I could do. I might update the images secretly one day, but for now I think I need to let it be free in the world before I just never finish lol

Welcome to my yap sesh! Thank you all for being here, I hope the wait was worth it! <3 I am very proud of this and spent soooo so long rendering it. (What was i thinking doing 3 characters end my suffering /J)

Here's some random factoids about these sillies!

Sun: Born in the depths. He is a dime of dozen of cookie cutter sharks, all of them insistent of taking chunks out of anything and anyone they can find. Sun at least has some restraint when it comes to mers he likes, but he always wants just one nibble! Sun tends to warm up fast to mers that give him a speck of attention and care. Cookie cutter shark mers are known to link up with mates as soon as possible, but Sun insists that he hasn't found the perfect fit yet. No one is tasty enough for it! Everyone needs to compliment the other! Sun is the fastest of the 3, relying solely on his speed and jumping out of hiding spots to catch prey. His sharp claws pierces easily and the long webbing between his fingers makes it really easy to ensnare prey in his grasp!

Moon: Born in the depths. Jellyfish mers are rather uncommon, being known as a mostly solitary species. Unlike their animal counterparts, Jellyfish mer go alone after maturing, not even inclined to search for a mate, though they can if they so desire. They live the longest of any mer species. Their transparent bodies keep their form hidden from prey as their bioluminescence lures them in. Moon is the slowest of the 3, but it does not matter to him. To hunt, he floats in a comfortable spot, amping up his bioluminescence and fanning out his ribbons to attract prey. If a victim gets within his vicinity, his ribbons will quickly wrap and tangle around them, sending painful stings and intense damage to the prey. While effective, there are times the mer will sit in one spot for days having not attracted any food. He can hunt directly like other mers, but he'd have to rely on his transparency over speed in order to get close enough to catch them, his melded fingers make it even harder to grasp prey directly.

Eclipse: Isn't actually born a deep sea mer but spent most of his life in the depths after finding out how delicious specific creatures are and how much attention his looks get him. His skin and scales are iridescent and he loves to flaunt them when he can. Eclipse tends to be very carefree, though also the most gentle when interacting with other mers. He is inclined to view anyone as a potential friend or more due to being omnivorous, though no many has caught his full, dedicated attention. He's not territorial, not competitive, and doesn't care where he goes as he can eat just about anything. Hunting wise he is the most tactical, using his colors and thick ribbons to lure and confuse prey. He isn't the fastest nor the slowest, but his long hands increase his likelihood of catching prey he otherwise would have been a little too slow to grasp.

Yeah i.... I ended up having a lot of fun coming up with these guys

Especially moon, those of you who know KNOW, but man... my moon bias is so strong.

I even have this cute expression idea where he can control how his cap looks and uses it for his own protection. When sometimes when sleeping or defensive, he will tuck in his tail, arms, and sometimes his ribbons within the cap and then, like a string bag, it closes off his entire body from the world. He's in his own cap bubble!!! When embarrassed or trying to physically interact with someone without fear of hurting them, he'll tuck in his ribbons and scrunch his cap around his head. He'll look a bit silly, and you can't touch his face, but you can hug him safely and play with the soft round cap that now encases his head. (His tail/neck ribbons have no stinging abilities, they're just glowy for lure purposes!) his coloration is mostly inspired by the Man-O-War but his species is more fantasy then based off only that like the other two are with their respective fish, so that's why I just call him simply a Jellyfish for now :3

Sorry about that... I still love all 3 of these goobas and have ideas for them though! Maybe one day I'll get a fic going for them, not saying anytime soon because I have TOO MANY to work on rn, but just know they are swimming in my head.

So many ideas, so little time......

Once again THANK YOU ALL!!! It is so lovely to see y'all here despite my whacky upload schedules. I always tell myself I should make more simple things sometimes just so I can get the ideas out faster, but then my hands always do something else smh. Hope you all find this art and my future works quite delectable! <333

[bettystonewell]

Another Notch on His Belt

Pairing: Dean Winchester

Summary: Every little part of him is holding onto every little piece of her, and any other woman he’s been lucky enough to escape his life with. Even if it’s only for the night - or - Dean replaces intimacy with sex. 18+ only

Word Count: 1.2k words

Tags/Warnings: lil’ bit of SMUT, casual sex, Dean needs a hug, light angst

A/N: Summary inspired by the lyrics of the song “Tough” by Lewis Capaldi.

—————————————————————

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

He loves the sex. 

Needs it. 

Craves it. 

The closeness it gives him. The warmth of someone else surrounding his hardened body. Touching, feeling, writhing below or on top of him. He doesn’t care. 

Even with the scrapes and bruises he doesn’t remember which ugly bastard he ganked giving them to him, he’s not ashamed. He just wants to fill up his heart with affection to get him through the next death he knows is inevitable, no matter how hard he tries.

It’s something he can’t escape, except maybe for the night. Tonight, if he’s lucky.

As she pours him another cup, and places the pie he ordered beside his now empty plate, he pretends not to notice. It doesn’t mean he’s not watching. He just continues to hold the conversation with Sam while listening to her greet someone new.

Her voice carries like silk over the chatter of people and the ringing coming from the door. Her hands are clean, her skin soft and inviting as she pulls out her notepad and pen. 

He flicks his head up to exchange a glance, and she actually winks at him. “Can I get you anything else?” 

“Sammy?” He looks his brother’s way, but brings his gaze back to her the second he’s answered.

“Thanks,” he says and reads the badge pinned to her blouse aloud. “That’s a pretty name.” 

The girls in these dives they eat at are always perfect in his eyes. Their lives are just so, even if they don’t see it. 

No scars, at least not from weapons. Pliable flesh he can sink his fingers into. Grab, smooth, lick, taste. Sweet perfume that would fill a home he knows has things littered with the apple pie life he once thought he wanted. 

He’ll tell no one he still does.

He’ll also never tell Sam that’s the real reason he doesn’t bring them to the motel anymore if he can avoid it. It’s easier to leave them when he wakes up and feels out of place.

She walks away, back to the counter whence she came with hips that sway in time to the tick of the dusty old clock on the wall. Past the other patrons and tables full of more coffee and mediocre food. 

Chicken served in nugget form. Sandwiches lathered in sauce. It may be swill and smell closer to ass than edible, but if he plays his cards well, he’ll be devouring something far better tonight.

“Don’t wait up,” he says after downing the scalding liquid in one go. He’s done with waiting. Just needed the last boost of confidence before he goes in for the kill.

He stands up and grabs his phone. Brushes down his jacket, checking there’s nothing on it from the hunt, and looks up to the smile that caught his eye again. 

She’s watching him.

“Don’t do the hot coffee thing,” Sammy bitches, as he walks away.

But while Dean ignores him, a split second frown sours his face. He refuses to let his baby brother see the remark stings. 

It’s not about dipping his stick in the oil, but he’ll let Sam believe it is. The facade is easier than admitting the truth.

He steps up to the counter, where she’s taking some other chumps order, and raises the cup he never put down to gain her attention. There might be a suave grin thrown her way. Definitely a twinkle in his eye.

“Can I get another, sweetheart? Hot, and…just like you?” There’s a wag of his brow now.

“Sure thing, hun,” she says with a chuckle that makes her even more desirable. She doesn’t know how beautiful she is.

He wants to taste. He wants to touch. He wants her arms wrapped around him while he holds her tight. So he takes the opportunity presented to him. A brush of his fingers on hers when she hands the smooth ceramic back to him. Lingering as he gauges for any reaction. Any hint that she’s interested in being his comfort for the night.

“Thanks,” he says through a grin of goof and charm, and she smiles. Doesn’t even move her hand, and he knows he’s in with a chance.

“Can I get you anything else…?” she asks.

“Dean.” He winks.

“Dean,” she repeats, and he wants to hear it again. Underneath him. On top of him. Legs wrapped ‘round his waist as she chants it into his ear. 

He’d settle for it once if it was on her doorstep, following an ‘I had a good time last night,’ and so he’s bolder. His choice of words, just as. “Any chance you’re getting off soon?”

And she chuckles, hearty and soft. Nods her head in consideration, tongue playing with her cheek as she looks him over nice and slow. “You don’t beat around the bush, huh, Dean?” 

“Depends on the carpets,” he says. 

It’s cheesy and cringe and doesn’t even make much sense, but it works. She’s placing the pot of coffee down, leaning in closer to him, hovering over him a couple of hours later in a room that’s both foreign in foundation and comfort.

Plush bedding that’s clean. No smoke or dust or grime in sight. 

A light that never flickers and appliances that don’t buzz.

There’s a thigh on either side of him, bent at the knees just as he wanted. A sheen of sweat between. Her hands, warm and soft, creep over his skin, tracing patterns with tingles that curl his toes and tense the muscles in his shoulders and glutes.

His arms pull her down on him, pushing himself further into her. Giving her more of him, and she moans. He does, too. The squeeze of her walls on the covered tip of his dick is wonderful, but it’s the look in her eyes that does it for him. 

There’s a connection, now, even if there might be none come morning. This lust that he can mistake for adoration is what he needs. What he craves.

He’s wanted. She feels. Her body is alive, and she cries his name. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks with a snap of his hips, savouring the next sound she makes. If they go another round, he’ll do it again. When he’s alone with just his hand, he’ll chase it with the memory of her trembling lips, thighs and chest.

He’s pulling her tit into his mouth. Wide to capture as much of her smooth skin as he can. He’ll remember the saltiness, too. The way her nipple pebbles as his tongue swipes over and around it. The way her pelvis rocks.

She’s grinding down on him. Her fingers are tugging into his hair, and as her nails scrape down to the nape of his neck, he’s pulling her stomach to his. 

He’s grabbing her ass and raising it up. He’s chasing both their highs.

And when it hits, and he feels his balls tighten, and her around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth, he’s burying his nose into the junction between her hairline and ear. Inhaling the soap and shampoo. Her perfume. The sweat on her skin. He’s taking it all in and holding her tight.

In this moment, she’s his. 

The closeness she gives him. The warmth of her surrounding his hardened body. Touching, feeling, writhing on top of him.

He craves her.

He needs her.

And he’ll continue to, because it’s not just about sex. He loves the intimacy.

Read on AO3 || Masterlist—————————————————————Thank you so much for reading!

Coming soon! - Must Love Dogs - 24/01

(Dean’s POV - Humour - 900 words)

The Colonel needs to take a leak. Rather than risk the stench of dog piss in their already rank motel room, Dean, begrudgingly, obliges. It’s lucky(?) he does, because Dean will always pick up. —————————————————————TAGLIST- If you’d like to be tagged, lmk.

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa

[chaos-in-deepspace]

Pussy Xavier: 7 Days Series (Day 2: Oral)

Ahahaha managed to write this when I got home from work. Took a solid hour, but it's here. Xavie getting eaten out by his loving partner. Oh to die between thighs...

Warnings: Oral Sex, Slight Teasing Synopsis: You were curious. Xavier's anatomy had changed…but did that mean his taste did as well. Thankfully for you, Xavier is always willing to sate your curiosity and allows you to test out his new flavor. Word Count: 4k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Fic Masterlist | Normal Masterlist

Day 2: Oral

"So, how long exactly did the Captain give us off?" Xavier asked, his hands playing with your hair as you sat on the ground between his legs. You took a bite of the chip in your mouth as you looked up at him and hummed.

"Well…" You began and then decided to swallow your food before speaking, "I talked with her yesterday after we got back home from our shopping trip. I told her that you had been affected by a wanderer and that we'd need to find a way to reverse it. I didn't give her the details and said it was personal, and she said she'd talk with Nero about it. I was actually texting him this morning."

You tilted your head up and saw the slightest pout on Xavier's face at the mention of your colleague. While Xavier had made leaps and bounds with his jealousy streak ever since you two made it official and moved in, he still had his moments. It wasn't just with anyone but the men close to you. He could sometimes get a little pouty. Some small words of assurance normally quelled his childish mood as you patted his thigh, "Xavier." You chuckled at his expression.

"What? I wasn't pouting…" He murmured as he looked away from you. It only caused you to laugh a little louder now as you pinched his inner thigh that was right next to your cheek.

"I didn't say you were pouting; all I said was your name." You pointed out, and he let out a sigh and then gave you a soft smile. His hand went back to your hair, threading through the locks as his nails gently scraped against your scalp.

"Alright, fine…well, what is Nero looking into then?" Xavier asked, and you gave him a proud smile.

"I explained what the wanderer that hit you looked like and sent him a quick doodle I did of it. He said it didn't narrow it down enough, but he'd look into wanderers that were known in the system to hit someone without causing damage but instead giving physical changes." You explained to him, "He said he'd probably have something by the end of the week at the latest. So we just gotta wait it out. Captain Jenna is fine with us both taking it off so I can take care of you."

"I can take care of myself," Xavier said, shaking his head.

"Did you want to take care of yourself?"

"Well…no." Another laugh came from you as you sighed and placed a kiss against his exposed thigh, then turned back over to the movie. It had been calm with you two at home. No cares in the world as you weren't stressing about work and filling out reports. You guys could just relax and take a staycation in order to reset yourselves. Being away from people like this was nice, and you didn't realize just how much you needed it until you woke up this morning and felt better than normal.

You grabbed one of the chips in the bag and lifted it up so Xavier could lean down and take it from you. You watched as he chewed on the food, and your eyes went back to the cheap horror film you had rented. It was one of those movies with horrible to no CGI, was clearly made on a budget, and was filled with cheesy jumpscares. You two had decided since there weren't any good horror movies that were released recently, you'd simply have to find the worst. This movie was the first of many you had in the lineup for the day.

You were engrossed in the film for a couple of minutes before you lost interest again. The plot was spinning in circles and made no sense at all, so it was hard for you to stay focused on the screen. You felt Xavier adjusting on the couch above you, his thigh pressing against your cheek.

The moment you felt the contact of him you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. All your dirty thoughts began flooding in your mind as you glanced back up at him. He was currently relaxing in his underwear and a white sweater. It wasn't uncommon for Xavier to be wearing things like this in the apartment; he always liked to be comfortable, and you'd never complain since it gave you something to look at when bored. Hell, even when he wore his sweatpants, you were staring at him, wondering how someone could still look so handsome in clothes that were considered 'lazy.'

Still, in just his underwear, the boyshorts you guys had bought yesterday, it had your mind spinning. It was right there above your head, and you knew you shouldn't have your mind in the gutter. He had just started to get used to having a vagina, well as used to it as he could get. He still had moments where he seemed uncomfortable, but ever since he learned the panty liner trick, he has been a lot more comfortable in his own skin.

Your inner musings were broken by Xavier himself as he cleared his throat to get your attention, "Is there something on your mind?" He finally asked, noticing how you were staring up at him rather than the screen. Xavier knew that conflicted look on your face well; you always wore it when you wanted to ask him something but were unsure of how he'd respond to it. So, instead, he coaxed you with a soft smile, "You can tell me I'm listening." Damn him and his soothing personality that always made you tell him everything on your mind.

You took in a deep breath before speaking, "If you're comfortable with it…can I taste you?" it had been on your mind since the very first time you saw it, and now you really wanted to taste it. Xavier always seemed to enjoy going down on you, and you had done so for him multiple times in the past for foreplay, but you didn't see the fascination he had with it. Maybe if you got to experience it, you'd be able to understand it better.

You watched Xavier pause as the words processed, the little cogs in his head working overtime before a flush went on his cheeks. He looked away from you for a moment before his gaze snapped back to lock eyes with you. "Have you been thinking about this for a while?" His voice was sweet and non-judgmental as he said this, which helped ease your anxieties over asking him for this.

"It's crossed my mind once or fifty times in the past two days." You admitted, and Xavier let out a small chuckle. You watched with wonder as he seemed to literally glow for a moment as he did so. It was a quirk you had recently discovered about him. He used to hold back his evol when he was happy or amused, but when it was just the two of you, he let it all go. Whenever he was very happy or laughing, his evol would flare up and make him glow slightly. It was the cutest quirk he had, in your opinion.

"I don't see why not. I enjoy going down on you, so it makes sense you'd want to try it." He finally said, and you felt like you were on cloud nine with his agreement. You were mentally cheering in your head as you turned in your spot and pressed your cheek against his thigh, one of your hands going to the opposite one and playing with it.

“Awesome…ah but you know…” You said, clearing your throat as the embarrassment took over, "I've never…gone down on…a…pussy before." You finally said, and Xavier pushed some of your hair out of your face and tilted your head up at the same time so you'd be forced to look at him.

"That's fine, I expected as much, and I don't have any expectations. I've never had this done to me, so it can be a first for the both of us." He said, and you pressed a kiss on his inner thigh in response. You watched his breath hitch at the motion, and he slowly began opening his legs a little wider for you.

You leaned in closer as you helped push his legs apart. You felt like your heart would beat right out of your chest with how nervous you felt right now, but you decided to tease him a little. You did what he often did to you and stuck your tongue out and licked up the front of his underwear. He let out a gasp while there was a barrier there; just the sight of you doing that was enough to make a moan come from him.

"H-hey…" he said, already pouting, "Don't be teasing me right now…" He murmured the last bit as you looked up at him and shot him a wink.

"Fine, fine, I won't tease you like you always do to me." You said as you began hooking your hands in the waistband of his underwear, "Can you lift your hips a little bit for me so I can take these off?" you asked. Xavier did as you asked, lifting his hips just enough for you to pull his underwear off. Just like the first time you did this, you could see a string of arousal connecting him to his underwear, and you actually did let out a small moan from this.

"You're right; you do get really wet." You comment, and Xavier's face went as red as a strawberry at your comment.

"I-uh…" he sputtered out but opted to look away. The panty liner in his underwear was absolutely soaking that you were surprised it hadn't soaked through his underwear as you tossed it aside.

"Lemme grab a towel real fast so we don't make a huge mess." You said, getting up to go over to one of the hallway closets where you kept all your linens. You grabbed a fluffy white towel and brought it over to Xavier. He lifted himself enough to let you slip it underneath him so his wetness wouldn't soak into the couch. The easier the cleanup was, the better, especially because you felt like this would get messy pretty fast. He was already soaking, and you hadn't even touched him yet. You briefly wondered how long he had been wet like this; it was no wonder he had been uncomfortable if this was how he was going about his every day.

You pushed his legs apart so you could see his glistening pussy that was absolutely mouthwatering to you. It just looked cute, like the rest of him, and you knew the moment your mouth was on him, he'd be making those adorable noises again. His moans were music for you, like a song you wanted to put on repeat every single day. You could see Xavier's breathing pick up for a second as he watched you between his legs.

You had no clue what you were doing, though, and you quickly realized. You knew sort of what motions he liked, and you knew what felt good when he was between your legs, so you just had to put those two little key components together. How hard could it really be? You were certain just about anything you did to him would probably feel good anyway; with how turned on he seemed to be, he looked desperate for some relief.

You decided to get a better angle and lifted his legs up so you could place them over your shoulder. You watched Xavier lean into the couch so his back was pressed against it. His hands were by his sides, already fisted slightly as he watched you with apt attention. He seemed about as eager as you did about the situation, so you decided to just go for it as you leaned closer to him. Your breath ghosted over him as you were right in front of him, and you felt how his leg twitched at just that.

"Is this position okay?" You asked; you would've been fine if he wanted to sit on your face, honestly, but you felt like that would be a little too much, at least for right now. Xavier nodded his head as his hands clenched and unclenched quickly.

"I-it's good, just…please." He said, his voice now breathy; you decided to stop torturing the both of you. With the flat of your tongue, you licked right up his center, your tongue pushing apart his folds. It was silky against you and sent a shiver down your spine as you looked up at him. You could also taste him, and you wanted more.

You had expected the slightly salty taste since you recalled reading about it, the taste that was definitely that of a pussy, but there was so much more to it. He tasted sweet to you, and you had to lick through his folds again to really taste him, and you wanted more.

"You taste so sweet…" You murmur against him as you make eye contact with him, "Is it normally so sweet?" You couldn't describe the taste exactly. It was just like Xavier to have a sweet taste to him, though. His kisses were sweet as well and always had you wanting seconds and thirds. You used to think kissing was just a weird thing when tongue was involved, but when it came to Xavier you wanted to consume him with your kisses.

"It uh…it tastes different every time…it always has the same essence, but the flavor is changing all the time." He explains to you. Gods, he shouldn't have said that. He really shouldn't have said that because now you wanted to put that theory to the test. Wake him up every morning just like this, with your face buried in his thighs and licking at the sweetness that was held between them.

You couldn't stop yourself from licking up again and moaning as the sweetness coated your tongue. You wondered briefly what his labia felt like, so you sucked gently on the skin there, and you heard him let out a shuddered gasp as he almost flinched away from you.

"Not good?" You asked, not doing it again, but you wanted to. It was soft in your mouth, the texture of him was everything you could've hoped for and more. Xavier let out a small grunt as he looked down at you between half-lidded eyes.

"It felt…good but strange." He finally said after a moment of silence between you two, "I didn't realize that area was so sensitive."

You pressed a kiss right over his cunt as you smiled against him, "There's a lot of parts down here that are sensitive, especially when someone else is stimulating them." You note, but you were giddy knowing that you knew another weakness of his. Just another method that you could break him with until he was gasping out your name. You felt like a damn pervert with all these thoughts, but at the moment, you couldn't care.

You decide to finally move onto his clit, gently licking directly over it and he let out a high pitched keen as he shut his eyes quickly. He didn't need to say it felt good; you knew it was because of the way he reacted. You normally had the same reaction when he did that to you, after all. You swirled your muscle around his clit, just like you had the other morning with your fingers, and you watched as he tried to grind himself closer to your face.

You felt his legs locking around you at this point, gently squeezing you as his ankles came together and tried to drag you closer to him. You repeated the motion again until you decided to push up on the hood of his clit to get directly to him.

This caused him to let out a hiss, and he flinched away from your mouth as you looked up, "Too sensitive here?" You murmured as you then went to circle his clit again. You watched as he tried to process words; his mouth hung open as he panted.

"M-mhn, it was…a lot when you directly touched it like that." He said, and you nodded your head. So he was a bit too sensitive for direct stimulation, you guessed, which was good to know since you knew what you were working with now. You decided to change it up, wanting to know what his walls would feel like against your tongue, so you trailed your tongue down until you could stick your tongue inside his entrance. The hand that wasn't squeezing his thigh went to play with his clit, repeating the motions your tongue had done earlier.

Xavier let out another pretty moan as he brought his hand up to his face, biting down on his knuckles in order to keep his noises down. That simply wouldn't do as you pressed a little harder on his clit so he would yelp at the sensation. He got the silent message as he then took his hand to push your hair out of your face so he could watch as your tongue fucked him.

You could feel how good he felt inside, the way the muscles squeezed and clenched against your tongue. You wished your tongue was longer, enough to reach his g-spot, but that would be impossible. Instead, you switched your method, replacing your tongue with one finger as your mouth found his clit again.

He was whimpering now, his thighs twitching against your shoulders as he tried dragging you closer without even realizing it. His hips were working against your mouth as if attempting to use your face as a grinding pad. You groaned at the thought as you went and sucked on his clit this time. You felt his grip on your hair tighten until it was almost painful as he tried whimpering out something.

"C-close mhn a-hah~" He barely managed to get it out, "S-so clo-ah, little more, please, please, please." He was stumbling over his words as he was practically begging for you to let him cum. You managed to get a second finger into him as you curled it against his g-spot. The moment you did that, it was over, like a dam breaking as he cried out your name in such a high-pitched tone it pierced your ears. You'd probably be imagining that voice calling out your name anytime you were alone in bed at this point.

His walls squeezed tightly against your fingers as he came, his voice broken in a hoarse cry as he continued grinding. The legs around your shoulders were now properly pressing you against his cunt, and the grip he had on your hair held you in place as he rode out your orgasm. You could barely breathe at this point as you worked him through it, lapping up the slick fluid that came out of him.

If this is how you died, you'd be fine with it. You could think of worse ways to die, actually, but being buried between your boyfriend's thighs as he continued to cry out your name like a prayer was probably the best possible way. His entire body was shaking as his grinding slowly came to a halt, and at this point, your lungs burned slightly from the lack of oxygen.

It was at that moment he seemed to come back to his senses as his legs lost their grip on you, and he let go of your hair. You popped up between his legs to suck in some much-needed air. You were panting just as bad as him as you looked at your work. His body was flush, his eyes barely able to stay open as he shuddered at the sight of you. He was messy, sure, his pussy now glistening so beautifully and dripping onto the towel. You were sure you had his slick all over your cheeks and chin as well if the feeling was anything to go off of.

You leaned down to wipe your face off with the towel underneath him, then brought it up between his legs to clean some of the wetness there that had accumulated. It wasn't as good as a warm, wet towel, but it did the job in getting him to stop dripping like he was in heat.

"I think this was the best thing to ever happen to me." You said once you managed to catch your breath again. You leaned forward and kissed his pubic mound, the coarse curls tickling your nose as you sat up on your knees. You placed both your hands by his hips after he dropped his legs from your shoulders.

"I-if you ever wanted to do that again, help yourself." Xavier finally said as he, too, caught his breath. His entire body was still buzzing from the aftershocks of the orgasm, but he could at least think again, something he had lost the ability to do the moment he felt your breath against him. You chuckled as you pressed another kiss to his thighs before you started to get up so you could crawl onto the couch.

Xavier was quick to grab hold of you and drag you, so you were now straddling his lap. One of his hands went to your cheek as he dragged you down for a kiss. You were both smiling into it as he nipped at your lower lip, clearly wanting to deepen it. You happily obliged, feeling his tongue against yours caused you to moan into him as he tasted himself on you. He realized you were very correct in your assessment. He did taste sweet, and it was even better since he could taste you as well now.

You two stayed like that for a little while, just kissing one another and gasping whenever one of you decided to teasingly nip at one another until Xavier was finally pulling back to look at you. His hand was still cupping your cheek as you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes as you basked in his attention.

"You know, we should probably start cleaning up." You murmured. While you had wiped him down, you guys still needed to get his underwear back on and maybe actually get a wet towel this time to make sure all the slick was cleaned up. You would also need to run your face under some water so your cheeks wouldn't have any residual stickiness on them.

Still, you took the chance to begin peppering kisses all over his face. He laughed into it, the subtle glow of his evol kicking back in now, and you took a moment to admire him. His cheeks still had a rosy hue, and he seemed to be relaxed and content right now. It made your heart swell as you fought back the urge to just smother him in affection right now. You knew if you started, you wouldn't be able to stop, at least…not for a good while, that is.

Then you felt him placing a hand on your hip, "Why do we need to get cleaned up right now?" he asked, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes.

You could only raise an eyebrow in question, "Xavie, I told you we have to. "You were quickly cut off by a kiss. When he parted, you had a small pout on your lips, and he kissed your forehead next.

"No, I meant, why do we have to clean up now. I haven't had my turn yet." You felt his hand going to the waistband of your shorts, and a shiver wracked down your spine as you caught onto what he was implying.

"Alright, fine…but after this, we're taking a bath." You said, and then another kiss was placed on your cheek.

"Sounds good to me." He muttered before he managed to work your pants down your thighs.

MDNI and Support Banners by Cafekitsune Image used in Title Banner by LeaderinCrows on X and Bluesky

[letmereedusyou]

i’m not yours - part 6

summary: Daryl and you are (were?) friends. He's dating Leah. You told him you loved him and things fell apart. Will it ever go back to normal?; Y/N's journal page, drunken thoughts about her encounter with Leah from the previous chapter.

words: 764 - short but super necessary for the story

warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

A/N: I am thrilled that so many people like this story. Honestly, I wasn't going to make chapters for this, but here we are! Love ya'll! Thank you for reading! 🖤

If this chapter seems a bit cringey, is because it supposed to be as the character is quite drunk and just writes what she's thinking at the time!

Read previous part here!

Page from Y/N journal

SHE DOESN'T KNOW!!!

Leah has no fucking clue!

She has no idea who he is. That some bullshit! She must know something, right? He wouldn't keep her in the dark like this? Maybe he would... He hasn't told her? Why? Isn't that what people in a relationship do? Share? Like, actually share their fears, dreams and things about their past? Leah has so idea who the fuck Daryl is? Like why he's sometimes so broody and quiet, or why he has days when he needs to be alone.

He told me. I know. Everything. Well, probably not everything but most things, especially the important ones. Doesn't that mean something? But what? What does it mean? Why do I know him better than his partner!? How is that even possible... Leah dates a stranger. A ghost even. She goes home to him every night and sleeps with him in the same bed. She probably fucks him every day. I know I would've... Yet she has no idea who she's giving herself to and who he is for real. What the fuck?!

I remember so clearly the first time I saw his scars I was mortified. It was back in Atlanta, we were looking for some deer, squirrels or any food in general. He somehow miscalculated how far away we were from a hill that was overgrown with vines and bushes, and he slipped all the way down. Dumbass... When I got to him, running all the way (or more like stumbling because you couldn't classify the fast crab walking down the hill through the flora as a run), his top was torn apart by the branches and whatever else he smashed into.

My eyes widened, looking at his slumped shoulders and broad back, when he scrambled to stand up, clearly embarrassed. The scars looked painful, even though they were healed. They're long and thin, running vertically down and across his back. The crosses they made on his back, and how deep the scars were, I was sure he could probably feel them sometimes when he moves. He tried to hide it, frantically pulling the pieces of the fabric around him, saying that I should stop looking at them or I'll get a punch. I turned my gaze away quickly, not wanting for his fist to ruin my pretty face. Not that I think he'd punch me for real. But still. Oh, and also I didn't want to pry because who was I to ask about his past? We've just met. It would be even so inappropriate, even if my tongue was itching to question. But it was mostly about my face...

The next couple of days we had to move as Rick wanted to check out CDC in Atlanta. Once we got there, it turned out there was one person left and no other scientists, so humanity had no cure. Oh, and we all carry the zombie virus so whatever happens to us, whether we die of old age or we get shot, stabbed or bitten, if no one kills our brains, we become one of the walkers. Anyways, before we found out the truth and the building blew up to pieces, we all spent the evening laughing and drinking wine. It was peaceful for once.

That night, Daryl came to my room a bit tipsy and confessed. About his childhood, his scumbag of a father, beating him up almost every day, his absent mother, about the scars that his father's belt left on him. He told me everything about Merle, his brother, and I listened. I will never forget the words he said when I've asked why he decided to tell me.

"I don't know. Maybe I just wanted to be heard. And I knew you'd listen."

I've never seen him that vulnerable (and he never was that vulnerable ever again). He wouldn't look me in the eyes after he said it and I didn't force him. All I did was hug him tightly and he reluctantly hugged me back.

Now I'm finding out he hasn't shared the details of his life with Leah? Leah, who was his girlfriend? Who is supposed to have this type of information? What the hell, Daryl? I know you were quite tipsy when you shared with me for the first time but you never had trouble sharing with me after that. NEVER. Although nothing topped the story about his dad... My brain can't process this. I need sleep.

Why am I the one who he trusts?

Am I the only one he trusts?

Is it possible...

No. Fuck.

[ohburgee]

𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫

soft yandere!performance guide x skywanderer!reader

c: soft yandere, soft obsession, imaginative threat, fluff an: I know Sky Cotl is a wholesome and cozy fluff but I want to show my love for the performance guide so I made a fanfic about him :3 Also who is in love with the performance here's the fanfic of him hope you Sky fans enjoy it, I'm a Sky Cotl fan and my heart devoted to that game <3 summary: you were a wanderer taking a journey and traveling through the kingdoms as you collected some information and helped others when you stopped by the Valley of Triumph to take a rest when an invitation from your friend to watch a show in the village theatre. You met the guide of the performance and he absolutely admired your kindness and your beautiful appearance and he fell for it like a light can't let it go.

You almost finished writing about the citadel in Valley Triumph when you heard your name called.

It's your friend, Sota. She helped you know the places in the valley and is the one who gave you a map. "Hey, I'm sorry to disturb you. I just came here to check on you," she said, smiling, and you smiled back.

"It's fine. I actually finished it. What is it?" you said and then asked. "If you don't mind going with me later to the theater it's a great show and also don't mind the food, I'll do it," she said and winked at you.

You chuckle and look at the sky it is getting night so maybe a rest here will be good since you're going back to Prairie Peak, your home place.

"Also you can take a rest at my house," she said and you nodded your head "Well head there before the night comes" she added and waved her hand then glided down.

A free theater show I guess, maybe you'll write it to your discoveries for the valley.

You have been a traveler, a wanderer you fly over the realms seeking beautiful things and places and also knowing other creatures.

After the tragedy happened you sought to yourself that you needed to know more about your world and understand it, you looked up to see the sun brightening.

You fall down from the high structure of the citadel then glide down going to the village to meet your friend after flying you reach the village as you look down seeing few people gathering in the small market.

Then you landed at the house of your friend then you saw her walking towards you carrying two baskets one it's on her shoulder then the other it's on her hand carrying it.

You quickly walked towards her and took the other basket and she smiled, "You don't have to do that" she said as you two walked "Nah it's fine I see you having difficulty carrying" you said and you both outside her house and put the baskets full of fruits.

Suddenly a person comes and you look up to see a bird-like mask, it has a gold long brow then an owl-looking hair, is this rhythm related?

Then he bowed and you and Sota bowed too, "Greetings my guide, you here for the fruits?" Your friend asked "No I came here for the theater show later" he said and Sota nodded her head then his face turned to you.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm Y/N it was nice meeting you" You introduce yourself and offer a handshake and he takes your hand and kisses it.

"Nice to meet you too ah, Performance Guide, actually that's what they call me here," he said chuckles and you did along too "So are you around here?" He asked and you looked at Sota and she smiled and turned your head to him.

"No I'm a wanderer, traveling through realms and places writing some beautiful things this world has," you told him and he nodded as he looked at you like he admired something from you.

"Well I will be heading back to my theater, hope you two get on time," he said and waved goodbye before he walked away he looked at you and smiled and you couldn't clearly see his mouth but you could tell that his mask and the eyes making a sign of smile inside it, you bit confused and smiled back instead.

...

While he was just greeting people from the village of dreams he caught his eye to someone when he turned to see you ran towards your friend, Sota.

Sota was one of the supporters of his theater and he is very thankful for her support now he looks at you as you helped her carry the baskets and at that moment he admires how you suddenly helped her and the way you smiled at her, it was beautiful and peaceful.

I want to see that smile forever, it was peaceful to see such a bright smile.

He shrugged his shoulder bid goodbye to the people and walked towards you and Sota.

He looked at you and admired how you were really beautiful and cute and to compare on his height you are small and it made him even like you more.

You greet him and hold a hand which you think to handshake but he does something sweeter as he takes your hand and kisses it, and he looks up to your face.

Those beautiful faces wanted to see every time I woke up feeling the day was always good.

Then he asked about you and hearing that you are a wanderer discovering the whole realms he was amused at how you are alone to travel by yourself and that made him more like to you, maybe it's not like anymore.

Then he bid goodbye when his time came to prepare for a later theater show.

As the time came he prepared himself and his other friends, one of his friends, Frantic Stagehand came to him and patted his back.

"You ready my friend?" He asked and he nodded his head the curtain turned up and saw a few people start to clap their hands the performance guide went to the center smiling and bowing to his audience when he looked around his smile wide even more seeing you clapping your hands.

And the show started with the performance group doing their entertainment the Modest Dancer did an amazing dance then The Forgetful Storyteller made funny magic and the Mellow Musician made a rock song and the Frantic Stagehand made a funny small entrance and a lot of people were amazed and clap their hands even more as the performance guide next to entertain his attention was on you all the time when he performs.

When he finished he saw you smile brightly as if a light was coming to bless him for his shows.

Damn, my light.

When the show ended everyone congratulated the performance group and sayings goodbye to head home then you and Sota greeted the other's when you spotted another wanderer and you came to them and greeted them and talked about the discoveries and the journey they had.

The performance guide turned his attention to you as you smiled at the other wanderer and that made him a bit mad, seeing you showing your bright smile at the other wanderer.

No, why are you showing that smile to them, you should show that bright smile to me... Only me.

When the wanderer gifted you a small flower you took it and smiled and that even made the performance guide even more irritated.

If I could bring that wanderer to the wasteland and throw them to a field of krills and watch them lose their lig-

Before he could finish his imaginative threat a hand patted his shoulder and he turned to see his twin brother, Rhythm Guide.

"Hey bud you okay?" He asked his brother and the performance guide sighed and patted his brother's shoulder too, "I'm fine brother how about we eat dinner together" "Yes then brother" his brother replied and smiled at him.

"Hey, can we join?" The performance turned his head to see Sota and you and that made him blush and see you smiling, "Yeah sure might this beautiful wanderer be hungry" he said and smiled at you.

When you all gather in the dining room all of you pass plates of food to each other and talk to each other about some history and news that's happening in the realms.

When everyone was busy with their business, the attention of the performance guide was always on you as he stared at your innocent, beautiful face as you ate your food and helped others to pass the food.

He admired how peaceful you were there sitting in front of him eating, he could do this always when you two live together seeing you always together eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

If I would just take you as my companionship, and tell me everything you know about the sky realms, hearing those beautiful stories you know.

After the dinner, you all finished and decided to head home you and Sota bid goodbye to the performance group and you turn your eyes to see the Performance Guide and his twin brother, Rhythm Guide.

"We're going home now the night is out," Sota said and the two nodded their head, "Also my friend needs a rest since she is going to travel tomorrow" Sota added and that took the Performance Guide's attention and he looked at you.

No, I don't want you to go, please stay here for a while, stay with me.

"I'll be heading to my home place," you said to them and he nodded his head, yeah you needed to go home to your place, some people miss you.

"Where is your home place, little wanderer?" The Rhythm Guide asked and you replied "In Prairie Peak, I'm the apprentice of your fellow guide, Moments Guide" you said and smiled.

"Well it was nice having you here wanderer I wish your journey is safe also don't get killed when you go to the wasteland," Rhythm said and you chuckled and nodded your head.

The performance guide was smiling as he heard your cute chuckling, "Well then my beautiful wanderer I hope to see you again here in Valley" he said and you replied a smile to him and you took something from your pocket and took the small wooden figure.

And the performance guide took it as your hands brushed to his, he did that on purpose to touch your soft hand.

"It's a mini figure manatee, it's one of our creatures in our place," you said and he smiled and kept the mini figure in his hand like a light that needed to be cared for.

"Thank you, my beautiful wanderer"

[vampmilf]

hold on im still too mad at this one fucking guest to take a nap i need to be a hater for a minute

[dmumt]

genuine question is having a flatmate ever a pleasant experience

[punkshort]

The Farmer's Daughter

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader one-shot

Summary: Forced to sell your body after your father's farm went under, you find yourself hand picked to service the Roman army on their latest battle away from Rome. What you didn't expect was to be selected to share General Acacius's room for the duration of the journey.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), heavy talks of prostitution, mentions of SA but none occur, reader is a (new) prostitute, virginity loss (no blood mentioned just some discomfort), descriptions of battle wounds/blood, food and alcohol consumption, one bed trope, enemies to lovers-ish, unprotected piv sex, thigh riding, angst, possessiveness

WC: 10.2K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: I know by this point his character is mostly referred to as Acacius in the film but I'm sorry, I can't wrap my head around someone moaning that name in bed. So let's just ignore that, okay?

How did this happen? Why did fate play you such a cruel and twisted hand?

When you were younger, you expected to be married off to be a housewife to a solider. From what you heard growing up, it wasn't a terrible life. The men were gone most of the time which allowed the women to run the household and raise children in peace. Unfortunately, your mother died during childbirth and your father, a humble farmer, passed away too early in life, leaving you and his few workers to keep the farm operating for as long as possible. To make money, you spent much of your time at the market, selling the food you made on the farm and the goods you weaved and molded from the scraps.

It wasn't enough. You lost the farm after a handful of years and you were on the brink of becoming destitute. Already you were malnourished and dehydrated, but as hard as you tried, you couldn't find work.

That was how you found yourself in a long line of women, standing silently with your heads bowed and your hands clasped as you were all throughly inspected by a senior officer of the Roman army. They were choosing their group of whores to hire to accompany the men on their next battle across the sea. You were left with no other option but to sell your only remaining asset. The thought turned your stomach, but the idea of starving to death was worse.

One by one, women were hand picked to step forward and exit the room. All in all it had to have been close to forty whores hired to service an entire army.

The odds were not in your favor if you were picked.

It came as a relief when you ended up not getting chosen. You breathed a deep sigh and lifted your chin, scanning the room of remaining women and senior ranking soldiers. You would make do somehow. At least you wouldn't be spreading your legs multiple times a night for different men after they've spent the day fighting and working up their appetite.

You turned to follow the women back out onto the streets of Rome, no doubt searching for another way to sell their bodies, when you heard a deep, familiar voice call your name. You froze in disbelief, wondering who could possibly know you, and then you slowly turned.

It was General Acacius. The fearless leader of the Roman army, but you knew him from your stand in the market. Whenever he was home from battle, he always found you and purchased more than he could possibly need, feeding you and your farmhands for weeks. He never said much and neither did you, but you had grown fond of seeing his greying curls and dark, smoldering eyes approach your stall, albeit with a new wound or scar to show for his travels.

You did not even realize he knew your name.

His eyes drifted up and down your worn tunic, noticing the stains and rips and your poor fitting sandals. Your gaze flickered nervously around the room at the other men impatiently looking to wrap up their work and begin their long journey, but remained silent, deferring to the general.

"You will come with us," was all he said, his voice booming in the small room. Your blood ran cold and panic seized your throat.

"But the choices have already been made-"

"I am paying. I believe I am allowed to decide how many whores we bring along."

You clamped your mouth shut, brows furrowing in anger. How foolish you were to assume he was a man of honor, a man who wanted to help you when he bought your meager wares in the market. As it turned out, he was no better than any other, only out to seek pleasure between your legs.

At that point, you knew better than to argue. Your fate was sealed. Begrudgingly, you forced yourself to follow after the other chosen women, walking past the high ranking officials who sized you up as you went.

The army was to travel by ship. Or multiple ships, to be exact. The women were counted off and told to stand in smaller groups, one handful of whores for each ship of hungry soldiers. When your group was assigned, you heard that familiar powerful voice come out of nowhere once again, stopping everybody in their paths.

"She is to travel on mine," General Acacius announced. A few men exchanged confused glances and Acacius grew irritated. "That one," he clarified, pointing directly at you. The other men quickly nodded and shuffled you into another group, and you thought that would be the end of it, but then he spoke again as the others began to board.

"She will stay in my chambers."

If the soldiers were surprised, they hid it well, but you didn't. You whipped around and glared at him defiantly, a litany of disrespectful curses on the tip of your tongue. Thankfully, you remembered your place and who you were speaking to and caught yourself before you got killed, but as you turned to board the ship, you noticed an amused smirk play across the general's lips.

A young solider shoved you into the general's quarters, ordering you to not go through his things or they would cut off your hands, then slammed the door shut, leaving you all alone. The rest of the women had gone below deck, most likely to a shared room that was filthy and freezing cold. You, on the other hand, had a beautiful soft bed and a roaring fire to warm yourself by a small wooden dining table. There was a bookshelf tucked into the corner and your fingers itched to pull the books out and examine them, but you didn't dare. Instead, you sat on the small cushioned bench next to the only porthole in the room, tucking your knees against your chest protectively while you waited for the inevitable.

Sleep took hold of you at some point while you waited for the general to retire. The last thing you remembered was the open sea and the glorious golden sun beginning to dip just below the horizon. When you awoke, it was dark, the only light in the room coming from the fire. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and unfurled yourself from your bench to look around, then nearly yelped when you found the general quietly sitting at the table pouring himself wine.

Your heart raced violently in your chest, knowing full well what he expected of you. And despite offering yourself up earlier that day as a whore, you had decided you would not do it for this man. Because this man came to your booth in the market under the guise of kindness that turned out to be a lie, and it simply did not sit right with you.

"I will not lie with you willingly," you announced boldly with your arms crossed. The general quirked an eyebrow and took a long sip of his wine.

"When was the last time you have eaten?"

You scowled, body vibrating with energy and ready for a fight only to be met with indifference.

"I am not hungry."

"You will eat or you will die," he said, avoiding your eye and standing to collect a plate of food by the door. He dropped it onto the table and pointed angrily at it. "Eat."

"Why?"

"You need your strength, you are frail."

"You do not like your whores thin, then?" you shot back. Acacius clenched his jaw, eyes still cast down. "You wish to fatten me up so you have something to hold onto when you force my legs apart?"

"That is enough!" he roared, fiery eyes finally finding yours and pinning you with an intense stare that had you trembling. "I will not be forcing you to do anything except eat. Now sit down, do not test my patience."

It was a combination of fear and hunger that made you obey, sinking down into the chair opposite his where the plate of lukewarm food awaited you. Acacius sat down and picked up his goblet, watching you from over the rim as you slowly began to pick at the food. You both remained silent while you ate and he drank, the only sound to be heard was the crackling from the fire and the distant laughter and yells from his men in the galley below.

He was right. You hadn't eaten in days. It was no wonder you fell asleep so quickly earlier. You wanted to express your thanks, but you were too stubborn. Instead, you finished your food and put the plate in the basin of water by the door before looking around the room once again. It was easily the nicest room on the ship. You had to imagine most of the soldiers would be sleeping in hammocks stacked on top of one another down below, but the general had the biggest, softest looking bed you had ever seen in your life.

But there was only one.

He watched you from his place at the table, studying your face as you worked out the mechanics.

"I will not force myself upon you if we share the bed," he said, dragging your attention back to him. He was still in his armor, all shiny and clean from the public celebration that took place prior to the army's departure.

"Why am I here, if not to pleasure you?" you asked. You sounded calmer than before but you were still very much on edge.

"You believe I would find pleasure in forcing myself upon a woman?" he questioned before draining his cup. You thought about it for a moment and shrugged.

"Perhaps. Yes."

He stared down at his empty chalice, your heinous opinion of him rolling around in his head and making his chest ache.

"Well, I do not," he proclaimed, standing up quickly and causing his chair to almost topple backwards. He began to unhook his heavy armor, dropping it into a pile on the floor until he was down to his tunic.

"If we were to lie together, it would be because you wish it so," he said softly with his back to you. You swallowed thickly.

"What am I to do here, then?" you asked as he began to turn down his sheets. He slid his tired body into bed and sighed.

"Whatever you like. So long as you stay in this room, you will remain unharmed."

You blinked rapidly, desperately trying to put the pieces together.

"That is all?"

"Yes. That is all. My only wish is you are safe and fed."

You couldn't help it. You had to ask.

"But... why?"

But the general rolled onto his side, effectively ending your conversation and leaving you wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

That first night, you did not share his bed. You slept on the bench by your porthole, curled up small, arms wrapped around yourself protectively until the sun rose. When you awoke, the general was gone, but a plate of food was left on the table for you.

The first week on the ship went exactly the same. You stayed in his chambers, staring out at the sea or sleeping until he returned way past dark with some food for you and a tired look in his eye. And every night, you slept on the bench, still far too distrusting of him.

The second week, the general brought a game with him at dinner time. Two cups and two wooden dice. The idea was you had to guess what you would roll. If you won, you got whatever you bet on the round. It wasn't that entertaining at first since you had only the clothes on your back and nothing else, but what you did have were stories or songs or a slight of hand trick your father taught you when you were young.

You wouldn't realize until much later that it was his way of getting to know you better.

"You released all the cows from the pasture?" Acacius repeated in disbelief. You giggled and nodded.

"I was only six years old! I thought they were being held against their will!"

Acacius laughed, the sound making you grin like a fool and your cheeks warm.

"Alright," he said once he got ahold of himself. "Go on."

You picked up the die and tossed them into a cup, giving it a firm shake and smiling when he shot you a playful wink.

You clapped the cup firmly over the table and before you raised it up, you announced, "One three and one five."

"What is your wager?"

You nodded towards his bookshelf. "One of your books."

He looked up at you in shock. "You can read?"

You gave him a fake look of disgust and nodded. "Of course I can read."

"And you have been here this whole time without picking up a book?"

"Your men told me they would cut off my hands if I touched what is yours."

His face softened and he sat back in his chair.

"No one will touch you," he told you firmly. You stared at one another, the heavy moment weighing between you, the implication of his words impossible to deny. No one will touch you because you are his.

To break the tension, you smirked and said, "So I suppose that means I do not need to wager the books?"

Acacius grinned and shook his head. "Too late, little one."

You rolled your eyes and lifted the cup, pouting when you saw two six's.

"Your turn," you said, pushing the cup to the side.

Acacius collected the dice and dumped them into the cup, shaking it while looking at you curiously from across the table and admiring the way the light from the fire flickered over your beautiful face.

"You can still take a book."

You perked up but shook your head. "That is against the rules of the game, General."

"I make the rules. Take a book tomorrow," he insisted before slamming the cup down. His large hand gripped the top of the cup, keeping it pressed tightly against the table.

"Your wager?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.

He swallowed, wondering if he should say what he wanted to say. The fear that you would pull away from him again fought against the insatiable attraction he had harbored for you for years. But the wine must have won the fight because he said, "One kiss."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and for a moment, he thought he made a horrible mistake. But then you squared your jaw and narrowed your eyes and said, "Go ahead."

He grinned, pulse thrumming excitedly in his throat when he said, "One one and one four."

But when he lifted the cup, his face fell. A three and a six.

"Ah, well," he said, shoulders drooping. He yawned and stood to collect the dice. "Better luck tomorrow."

Before you could stop yourself, you stood as well and leaned up to peck a chaste kiss against his scruffy cheek. He looked at you in surprise and you gave him a crooked grin.

"For the book."

He smiled and nodded, doing his best to hide his disappointment as you got yourself ready for bed. You had a small pillow and thin blanket to curl up with by the porthole, and it irked him that you wouldn't take more. He feared you would catch a sickness and your malnourished body wouldn't be able to fight off an infection, but you were so stubborn that he couldn't convince you otherwise.

However, the third and final week at sea had you shivering on your bench. Acacius could hardly sleep knowing how cold you were. He could hear your teeth chattering from across the room.

"I beg of you, please sleep in my bed," he said one night as you began to make your little nest by the porthole. You shook your head.

"I am fine, I swear it."

"You are not fine. Please, I will not touch you, you have my word."

You chewed on your lower lip and looked over his shoulder at his warm, plush bed. He could see your resolve begin to falter, so he offered to sleep on the bench in your place.

"No, do not be ridiculous. You have an army to lead tomorrow, you cannot be tense as a knot because you slept on a too small bench."

"I will if it means you are safe and warm," he said softly, his vulnerability taking you off guard.

"General-" you sighed, but he cut you off.

"Please. I promise I will remain on my side of the bed. Just stop being so stubborn for once in your life."

You scoffed and propped your hands on your hips. "For once in my life? And what would you know of it?"

He squinted at you and crossed his arms. "I know more than you think. I know you would not quit until you broke in that filly when you were twelve years old. I know you nearly pushed a boy down a well when he tried to kiss you in front of the whole school. I know you argued with your teacher over the correct spelling of amaranth and I know you poured every last bit of yourself into a dying farm just to keep the memory of your father alive."

Your jaw hung open in surprise, taken aback by the way he stored all of the little snippets of your life you had given him over the past two weeks only to end it with his own observation of you at the market.

You could feel yourself growing weak for him, the temptation to give in too much to bear. He had been slowly wearing you down since you arrived and perhaps he was right, perhaps you were far too stubborn because the last thing you wanted to do was go back on the proclamation you made that very first night.

So, you chose to be defiant.

"Fine," you snapped, swiveling on your heel and stomping towards his bed. "If you wish to share your bed with a whore so badly, then so be it."

Acacius rounded the bed and slipped in beside you, making sure to leave plenty of space.

"You and I both know you are no whore."

"Oh, you know so very much about me, I forget."

You tugged the heavy blankets up to your chin and tried not to audibly sigh at how comfortable it was in his bed.

"If you are a whore, tell me then: how many men have you laid with?"

You clenched your jaw, angry that he was able to figure you out so easily. Instead of answering, you rolled onto your side, your back to him, and muttered, "good night."

Acacius grinned and closed his eyes, proud of himself for besting you.

"Good night."

The following morning, you awoke earlier than usual. When your eyelids fluttered open, the first thing you noticed was the ache in your bones was gone. The large, soft bed had been enough to cure you in just one night.

Not something you planned on admitting to the general, of course.

The second thing you noticed when you sat up in bed was that the ship was not moving. It was completely still, and you could hear loud, quick footsteps outside your door and above your head. Men were shouting to one another and the clink of swords and armor were echoing throughout the halls. Then, through the walls somewhere above you, you heard the general's deep, booming voice yelling orders to his men. You threw off the blankets and hurried to the porthole, your eyes widening when you saw land and small boats being lowered into the water.

You had arrived at whatever distant land the emperors demanded Acacius claim for Rome, and the soldiers were getting ready to depart for their first fight.

You chewed nervously on your nail, curled up against the wall and peering out the window for hours until the very last boat sailed away. In the distance, you could see the general's broad back covered in armor, his dark curls fluttering in the sea breeze and his massive sword tucked dutifully at his waist.

He had left for war and didn't even say goodbye.

Why would you care if he said goodbye? Maybe if they all die, you could escape to shore and be free, find a new city and make a home for yourself.

Even you had to admit that fantasy was foolish. No matter where you went, your fate would always be the same. You had no money, no prospects, no skills and no family. Your destiny was already written and it was a miracle your first attempt at prostitution landed you in the cushy quarters of Rome's surprisingly respectful general.

Your nerves kept your feet moving all day. You tidied up the general's desk, sorting his papers and maps. You scrubbed at the dishware until they sparkled and you made the bed, fluffing up the pillows and tucking in the loose edges until you had nothing left to do. The room was as neat as possible, not a single item out of place, and yet you still floundered around looking for something to occupy your busy mind.

When the sun began to dip and his room grew darker, you went around lighting candles to allow for more light. You were in the middle of lighting the last candle when you heard a timid knock at the door.

Nobody had ever come to his chambers the entire three weeks besides the general himself. You swallowed anxiously, wondering who it could be and if you should answer when you heard a woman's small voice from the other side of the door.

You decided it was safe and opened the door a crack to find one of the whores you had boarded the ship with waiting on the other side with buckets of water and a basin.

"For the general," she said softly. You nodded and dragged the buckets into the room, trying not to stare at the bruises and dirt littering her dry skin. Your stomach twisted with guilt after she left and you locked the door. The other women were living like cattle and you were living the life of luxury. Not only was the general not forcing you to fuck him, but you were giving him sass at every turn.

It was a harsh reminder of your fortune, of what your life could be like. The thought of living the life of the women below deck frightened you, so you had decided that evening when the general returned, you would give yourself to him to show your appreciation, as well as out of fear he would soon get rid of you if you didn't give him what he wanted.

You remained at your post, staring out at the dark sea until you could see the bobbing of lanterns making their way across the black expanse, letting you know the men were returning for the night. You rushed to warm up his water over the fire, dumping it into the large basin. You poured some scented oils into the bath just as the door unlocked and opened, revealing a very filthy and exhausted looking general holding two plates of food.

"Good evening," you said, standing obediently. Acacius paused at the door, confused by your formality before closing it with his heel and setting down the food at the table. "I have a warm bath ready for you, General," you added, pointing towards the basin. He nodded tiredly and began to work on the hooks of his armor. You rushed forward to help him, once again taking him by surprise until he was stripped down to his red tunic.

"Would you like to eat or bathe first?" you asked. The general sighed and looked longingly at the bath.

"I will clean myself while you eat," he said. He pointed towards the table and motioned for you to turn around.

"May I assist you instead, General?" you asked with your back turned. You could hear the shuffle of fabric falling to the wooden floor and then a sharp hiss when he sunk down into the warm water.

"Assist me with what? Cleansing myself? I believe I can manage," he chuckled. You turned around to stare at the back of his head, his body now submerged in the water and hidden from view, but you could still see his shoulders and arms. They looked bruised and bloodied.

He didn't notice your eyes on him, of course. He was busy scrubbing the dirt and blood from his skin while he looked around the tidy room.

"It is very nice in here, you did not have to straighten up."

It was the least you could do and you knew it but said nothing.

Instead, you shakily lifted your worn tunic over your head and let it crumple to the floor. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you slowly approached him, the general completely unaware as he continued to scrub his skin.

"I can think of another way to assist you," you said nervously as you stepped into his eyeline. His chin tilted up and he did a double take when he saw your naked form standing before him. His cloth dropped into the water and his jaw fell open in surprise, eyes wide and greedily raking over your body.

"Wh- what is this?" he stammered, gaze glued to your chest. Your fingers fidgeted at your sides under his scrutiny.

"I thought I would show you my appreciation for your hospitality," you explained. "I would like to repay you in some way for choosing me to share your quarters."

A small smile tugged at his lips as he eagerly reached forward, then stopped when he registered your words. He looked up at you questioningly, excitement falling from his face when he asked, "What do you mean, repay me?"

You shrugged and took a hesitant step forward, close enough now so he could reach out and touch your cunt if he chose.

"I realized today my fate could have been much harsher," you explained. "I have not been showing you my appreciation and respect, and in return, I wish to give you my body to use as you see fit."

Acacius frowned and turned his head away, searching for the cloth so he could continue cleaning himself.

"I do not want your body as payment, I believe I told you that weeks ago."

"You said we would not lie together unless I wished it so," you protested. "I now wish it."

"You wish to lay with me out of obligation, not desire. That is not something I want."

Embarrassment and confusion flooded your mind as you slowly stretched your arms across your exposed body, trying to hide yourself out of shame.

"I apologize-"

"Get yourself decent and eat," he commanded without looking up. His voice sounded hard and cold and for some reason, it made you want to cry. You did as you were told, dragging your dirty tunic over your head and sat quietly at his table to pick at your food. You were confused and ashamed, sitting in the tense room with him while you tried to work out what he wanted from you. The idea of wanting a man out of desire never occurred to you. You had grown up under the impression women of your station did not get to experience the luxury of desire, and instead came to terms early on in life that you always had one asset to use at your disposal.

Not one time did you ever imagine being with a man out of affection or love.

"I apologize," you tried again after he had dried off and joined you. He had changed into a clean, white tunic and was clenching a similar one in his fist.

"You may use this," he said, ignoring your apology yet again. He thrusted the tunic towards you and you fumbled when you took it from his grasp. "The one you are wearing looks as if it might fall apart the moment you step outside and feel the sea breeze."

"Thank you," you murmured, fingertips brushing over the soft and expensive material in your lap.

"I will also call for more water tomorrow so you may wash yourself," he said before biting into a chunk of bread.

Your cheeks went hot with shame, still feeling guilt over the mercy and generosity he had shown you.

"I do not know what it is to desire someone," you said after a few quiet moments. Acacius continued to chew and kept his focus fixed on his plate. "I never imagined it would be a part of my life. May I remind you we come from different worlds."

He grunted in response but you noticed his shoulders begin to relax.

"I understand. But you must stop treating yourself as a whore. You are so much more than that, I have seen it with my own eyes. And to watch you debase yourself, to think so lowly of yourself, breaks my heart."

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt tears begin to well up, quickly threatening to spill down your cheeks. How could you have been so wrong? How could you not see the man for who he really was? He was a man who was gentle, kindhearted, protective and most importantly, cared very deeply for you. To what extent, you were unsure, but if he wanted you to desire him and he saved you from being used by countless other men, he certainly must have harbored stronger feelings than you ever thought possible.

"Alright."

His dark eyes flicked up to yours when you spoke.

"I will not debase myself," you said flatly. The corner of his mouth twitched before he looked back down at his food.

"Very well. I am pleased that has been sorted," he replied before shoving his plate off to the side and standing to collect the cups and dice. "Shall we play a few rounds before bed?"

You grinned and nodded, gathering up your plates and dumping them in the water by the door to clean later before joining him back at the table. And somehow, the awkwardness from the evening faded away after a few rolls of the dice.

It had been two weeks docked off shore on some foreign land. You hadn't left his room in over a month and you were beginning to feel insane. You told him as much early one morning when he was dressing for battle. It was still dark outside. Acacius had mentioned he wanted to arrive on shore before dawn so that he might get into position under the cover of night.

"When I return tonight, I will take you up on the deck for some fresh air," he promised as he cinched up his armor. "Do not leave this room when I am not here."

"Why not? Are your men not with you during the daytime?" you asked from his bed.

"It is not my men I worry about," he explained, sheathing his sword after lacing up his sandals.

"Then what do you worry for?"

"I worry about everything," he confessed. His hand was on the doorknob poised to leave, but he stopped to turn to you one last time. "I do not trust the soldiers from this city not to try to climb aboard the ships whilst we are gone. It is important the ships appear empty."

You nodded in understanding before burrowing back in his sheets and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you looking comfortable and radiant in his bed.

"Behave, my dove, and we may dine on the deck tonight," he said, making you smile wide. He slipped quietly out of his room and locked the door behind him, fearful if he lingered any longer, he may not leave the ship the whole day.

You spent the afternoon reading and bathing and cleaning the general's dirty clothes in the extra water he had brought up after he left. You weren't sure how it happened, but the two of you had fallen into a life of domesticity amidst war without even sharing so much as a kiss.

What surprised you the most was you enjoyed it. You enjoyed tending to his things and cleaning what you could during the day, and then caring for him at night when he returned all bloodied and tired.

It had not once crossed your mind that he may not return until it happened.

That night, you saw the lanterns bobbing over the water, your signal to begin heating up his water for a bath. Your hair smelled like the expensive oils you poured into his water from your own bath earlier. You smiled to yourself when you thought of smelling like him, and him of you.

Heavy footsteps landed on the wooden floorboards above your head and outside your door. At first, nothing seemed amiss. Acacius usually didn't come to his room right away. He typically visited the wounded soldiers in the infirmary, making sure they were well tended to and fed before doing his rounds, assigning a night crew, and then finally gathering food for you both before retiring for the evening.

But more time passed than usual. You could tell because your stomach began to rumble and his water grew lukewarm. You paced around the room, ears straining to hear the voices from the other soldiers, trying to discern anything from their muffled conversations.

It wasn't until two hours went by that you heard a sharp rap at the door and a man's voice echoing on the other side, announcing he brought you food.

Your blood went cold and you wondered if you should open the door, but then you remembered Acacius told you he wasn't worried about his own men, the underlying message being that his soldiers would never touch what was his. So after a moment's hesitation, you swung open the door.

"Here," a young man said, shoving one plate of food towards you. His face was stained with dried blood and dirt and you frowned before taking the food and thanking him softly.

"Where is the general?" you asked timidly.

"He fell in battle," he grumbled before turning away. Your heart plummeted as you reached out and grabbed his shoulder, taking him by surprise.

"What do you mean?" you exclaimed. Fear and adrenaline mixed with something foreign coursed through your veins as you felt your lower lip tremble. The solider shook you off with disgust before stepping back.

"He was struck down. Last I saw of him he was lying still on the battlefield."

When he saw the look of despair on your face, he took pity on you.

"Others were assisting him, his body will return to Rome," he assured you before giving you a firm nod and disappearing down the long hall, leaving you to collapse into a fit of sobs behind the locked door.

The feeling you had in your chest was similar to the way you felt when your father passed, but something was different. It felt like a piece of you went dark, like you may never smile or laugh ever again. Grief consumed every fiber of your being and you found yourself crawling into his bed, face streaked with tears so thick you could hardly see your hands reach for his pillow. You pulled it tightly against your chest and you curled up around it, muffling your wails until your head began to pound and your body felt weak.

You drifted in and out of sleep, tossing and turning until the room grew cold and the fire dissolved into embers. You stood and wrapped a blanket around yourself, sniffling and shuffling over to the fire to stoke the flames wearing the general's spare tunic he had gifted you. After a few minutes, the fire roared back to life and you sat back with a heavy sigh.

Just as you were wondering what you would do come morning and how you would ever be able to move on without him, you heard footsteps approaching. You whipped around in fear and tightened your grip on the blanket. With the general no longer around to protect you, you had assumed the other men would eventually come looking for you, but you had to admit you didn't expect it so fast.

You curled yourself into a ball on your old bench, staring at the doorknob, expecting to see it jiggle and eventually forced open from the other side, but to your surprise the lock clicked quietly and the door slowly creaked open.

When you saw the general appear, limping and bloodied but still alive, you practically screamed. You jumped to your feet and rushed over, moments away from throwing yourself into his arms before you caught yourself.

"Acacius," you whispered in disbelief, the informality slipping easily past your lips for the very first time. He gave you a tired smile and locked the door behind him.

"I apologize for missing dinner," he said. You laughed as two fresh tears trickled down your cheeks. Your hands hovered nervously over his armor as if you weren't sure where you could touch him.

"Apology accepted," you replied before gingerly unhooking the armor around his shoulders. He groaned with relief when you lifted the heavy metal off him and set it against the wall by the door to polish another time. When you turned back around, you gasped at the blood that had seeped through his tunic, staining the yellow fabric a dark red.

"You are hurt," you whimpered, then hurried around his room for clean cloths, healing oils, and salves he kept in his desk. "Take that off and sit down. Allow me to tend to your wound."

He wordlessly lifted the ruined tunic over his head, wincing slightly when the wound at his side pulled, and he sat down at the table just as you instructed. You collected some of the unused water from his bath and set it over the flames to warm up before scooping up some more and setting it on the table next to him.

"They stemmed the bleeding on the boat," he explained. "It just needs to be cleaned and perhaps -"

"I will handle this. You just rest and eat," you told him, pushing your plate of uneaten food in his direction. His eyes fell onto the food and he frowned.

"It is untouched," he said, "why did you not eat?"

"How could I when I thought you were dead?" you snapped as you brought a soaked rag to his side and began to gently pat at the nasty looking gash.

Acacius took a bite of food, the flavors melting onto his tongue and making him groan. He didn't realize how hungry he was and before he knew it, he had eaten all of the food except for the grapes. You were leaning across his lap, bandaging up his wound with intense focus. He sighed contentedly, basking in the warmth from the fire and the soft touch of your hand on his skin. He could already feel his strength beginning to return.

"That should hold," you said, sitting upright to inspect your work. He glanced down and raised his eyebrows at the neat little bandage you had adhered to his wound.

"You did a very good job. Where did you learn such things?"

You shrugged and began to clean up the salves and oils. "On a farm, many accidents happen. You learn quickly how to tend to a wound."

He smiled and sipped from the wine you had poured for him while watching you move around the room, disposing of his soiled clothes and rags and then bringing the bucket of warm water over to the table with a fresh cloth.

When you pulled the other chair closer and sat, fitting your legs between his knees so you could reach him, he began to protest.

"You do not need to -"

"I want to," you said, cutting him off with a warm, wet cloth on his aching shoulders. His eyelids fluttered with a groan, leaning back into his chair and giving in. It felt so wonderful to be washed by your hand, to have you so close and safe while tenderly caring for him. It was all he had been dreaming about for years, ever since the first day he saw you at the market.

"So many scars," you whispered, swiping the cloth down his broad, strong chest. His breathing stuttered when you reached his stomach and he tensed.

"I have been in many battles," he murmured with his eyes still closed. You hummed to yourself and continued to work, diligently and carefully scrubbing away the layers of blood and grime until you cleaned everything you could see.

"Can you lean forward, General?" you asked, "I would like to cleanse your back."

He nodded and with a grunt, sat upright so he could lean forward. You stood from your chair and positioned yourself behind him, taking great care with every swipe of your cloth, afraid of unearthing a new wound under all the filth.

"Back to general now, are we?" he asked.

Your hand paused on his shoulder blade. He sensed your confusion and he chuckled.

"When I first arrived, you called me Acacius," he explained.

"Oh," you breathed before continuing your work. "That was disrespectful, I -"

"No, I quite liked it," he said before you could finish apologizing. "You may call me Marcus when we are alone, if you prefer."

Your eyes widened and although he couldn't see you, he could tell you were surprised.

"That would be highly irregular," you finally said softly, putting down the wet cloth and picking up a bottle of perfumed oil. You sprinkled a few drops into your palm and you rubbed your hands together. "That name should only be used by those closest to you."

He opened his mouth to respond but when your slick hands found his shoulders and your fingers began to dig into the knots in his muscles, he moaned and felt himself go lax.

"Oh gods, that feels incredible," he rasped. The deep timber of his voice sent a wave of arousal right to your core. You continued to work on his back and shoulders, privately marveling at his broad frame and firm muscles under his scarred, bronzed skin. He was truly something to behold. So strong, handsome, and fearless. Yet also kind and gentle. The proximity of his body and the ricocheting emotions you had experienced that evening had you reacting to him in a way you never had before. It was confusing and strange yet also exciting, and the noises you were drawing from his mouth with every roll of your thumbs was causing a dull ache to form between your thighs.

You blinked and cleared your throat, trying to shake the heavy curtain of lust that clung to you.

"What happened out there? One of your men informed me you were dead."

Marcus sighed and sat up straight, the angle causing you to drop your hands from his tight shoulders. One of his massive hands reached back to take yours so he could lead you to stand in front of him, between his knees.

"They had called a truce. They requested to discuss terms of surrender, so I called off my men and went to speak with their king," he began, his hand still engulfing your own as he gazed up at you with his soft, dark eyes. "It was a trap. They ambushed me when I got out of range. It must have been twenty of them," he continued solemnly, his thumb brushing against your wrist as he spoke. "I slayed them all, one by one, but once I took down their final solider, an archer took aim from the wall. I was able to dodge the arrow but I was not quick enough," he chuckled and looked down at his wound. "I am not the young man I once was."

"I cried for hours," you admitted quietly. His eyes darted up to yours again, holding his breath as you spoke. "I had never considered you would not return to me at the end of the day. However, when I got word you had died-"

You paused when a sob got lodged in your throat. You knit your brows together, hoping to stave off your tears while Marcus patiently waited. Eventually, you gave him a watery smile and lifted your free hand to cup his cheek.

"I felt a grief I never thought I would feel again," you said, voice shaking. His eyes searched your face, watching the way your anguish rolled through you at the memory. He swallowed tightly and, with his other hand, gently gripped your waist.

"Tell me," he whispered, "did you feel these things only because you feared for your safety if I was not here?"

You shook your head as one singular tear trickled down your cheek.

"No," you breathed, "it was because I felt like a part of me died, too. Because I could not imagine my life without you."

When you saw the joyful look in his eye, you quickly closed the remaining distance between you, leaning down the rest of the way and slanting your mouth desperately over his. He moaned and dropped your hand so he could cup the back of your neck, pulling you even closer so you were forced to straddle his lap.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he groaned amid kisses that were growing increasingly messy as the heat between you grew. "How badly I want you? How long I have waited?"

Your mind was blank. You couldn't think of a single thing to say, but Marcus didn't give you a chance to respond, anyway. His tongue slipped past your lips, greedily swirling in tandem with yours and forcing your jaw to open wider. The hand on your waist dropped to flatten against your lower back and he pressed you forward so not even a sliver of moonlight could sneak between your bodies.

Underneath your gifted tunic, you were bare. When you joined the other whores all those weeks ago, they told you there was no use for undergarments, that the men would just destroy them if you bothered to wear any, so just like all the others, you never did. It had never been a problem until that very moment, when Marcus had you writhing in his lap, hips stretched wide and cunt free to rub against his thigh. When you first made contact with his leg, the firm muscle brushing against your sensitive clit, you jumped in his lap and moaned into his mouth.

"Tell me, sweet thing," he murmured when he finally broke the kiss. You were panting heavily, eyelids drooping with need as you gazed down at him. "I know you have not sold yourself to a man, but have you ever laid with one before?"

You shook your head and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, holding him close. His lips brushed up against your throat and he began to suck on the sensitive skin there as both of his hands fell to your hips. Gently, he rocked you back and forth, sliding your slick, bare cunt over his thigh. He heard you sigh and smiled against your skin when your head dipped backwards in pleasure.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes," you whispered, voice raspy and thick. "Oh, yes, it feels... heavenly," you told him with a sigh.

"Good," he grunted, "keep going. Do not stop until you come. I will need you soft and wet before you take my cock."

"Yes, General," you replied obediently, making his cock jump behind his thin loincloth.

Marcus tugged at the back of your loose tunic, stretching the material across your breasts so your hardened nipples poked through. With a low growl, he lunged forward and wrapped his mouth around one, cloth and all. His teeth added a surprisingly tantalizing amount of pressure that had you gasping for air as your hips quickened their pace over his thigh. You must have been leaving streaks of arousal all over him but something told you he didn't mind.

"You desire me, yes?" he questioned when he switched his attention to your other breast. You nodded feverishly, face tilted towards the ceiling as you chased your pleasure.

"Yes," you gasped, "yes, Ge- Marcus."

He groaned so loudly you thought he might wake up the whole ship.

"Fuck, say that again."

You smiled and circled your hips faster, grinding down onto his thick leg. You were so close, you could taste it.

"Marcus," you whined, "oh, Marcus. I cannot wait to feel you inside of me. I just know you will make me feel so good, will you not?"

Suddenly, his hand was back on your neck and his mouth was pressed tightly against the underside of your jaw, not unlike a wild animal pinning his prey against his sharp fangs. You could feel his hot puffs of air fanning across your skin and his teeth scraping your throat. His intensity might have frightened you if you weren't on the brink of an earth shattering orgasm.

"I will make you feel so good, you will never want to take another lover again," he said darkly. The hairs on your arms stood up but you continued to rut yourself as fast as you could against his thigh, your own chest heaving as you fought for air. "And if I have it my way, you never will," he added.

His words were what tipped you over the edge. You cried out his name and clutched at his shoulders for support as your orgasm rolled through you, covering him with your slick.

Your body was still trembling in his arms when he lifted you up and carried you to the bed. You blinked rapidly in response, poised to argue with him about potentially reopening his wound, but before you could get a single word out he had tossed you onto the sheets and climbed on top of you, caging you in.

"Before I ravish you, my sweet, what do you know of coupling?"

You scoffed. "I am no fool, I know how it works."

Marcus chuckled at your snark and sat back on his heels to peel your tunic over your head, exposing yourself entirely to him. A groan rumbled through his wide, bare chest as he stared down at you hungrily, all spread out and ready for him.

"I cannot lie. Ever since you first stood before me naked, your beautiful body has consumed my every waking thought."

"It shows incredible restraint, then, for you to share a bed with me each night," you teased, eyes dancing playfully as he stripped himself of his loincloth.

"You have no idea," he growled, falling back onto his forearms. The tip of his nose nudged against yours affectionately. "I have waited years for this, my sweet."

The idea of any man pining after you, let alone the mighty General of Rome, was a strange and foreign concept.

"I am just the daughter of a poor farmer," you muttered, fingers brushing his peppered curls behind his ear.

"Your station means very little to me," he replied, looking down between your bodies so he could notch the thick head of his cock at your opening. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

Your pulse quickened when you felt the slight bit of pressure he applied. Knowing how it worked was one thing, experiencing it for the first time was another.

"I-I was told it may hurt," you said meekly. Marcus's eyes found yours and he tenderly cupped your jaw.

"Yes, that is true, but I promise it will not last long," he assured you. You swallowed and nodded before spreading your legs wider and hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.

"Tell me if it is too much," he murmured. He pressed your foreheads together, lips hovering above yours, ready to soothe you from the pain.

"Go on, then," you said bravely.

Slowly, he breeched your opening and sunk one inch inside of you. You gasped and dug your heels harder into his thighs, but Marcus held steady.

"Speak," he demanded after a few seconds of listening to your heavy breathing.

"It stings," you admitted, "but it is not... unpleasant."

He nodded and pecked a chaste kiss against your lips before giving you another inch. You whined and squirmed a bit but once you settled, he took it as his cue to continue. It went just like that until he finally found himself fully seated inside of your tight heat.

"The worst is over, my sweet," he told you.

You wiggled underneath him, moving this way and that until you got used to the feeling of him inside you. Your hands wrapped around the backs of his biceps and you stretched your neck so you could bite and nip playfully at his prickly jaw.

"I enjoy being full of you," you admitted shyly, eliciting a grunt from the back of his throat.

"Good," he grumbled before drawing back his hips and slowly easing himself back inside your warmth. "Because I intend on having you full of me as much as possible. I fear I will never have enough now that you have given me a taste."

Your jaw dropped open when he began to move faster, gently and steadily working you open, carving a space for himself inside of you forever. The only thing you wanted was to have him as close as you could, so you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his neck, molding your bodies together as one.

"My sweet girl," he panted, mouth hunting for yours. "You feel better than I ever dreamed. So fucking tight and wet. I cannot believe my fortune, that you would give yourself to me. I wonder if I did indeed die in battle and have ascended to the heavens."

The stretch was divine, his heavy length dragging in and out of you and nudging against a spot that made your stomach clench and your head grow fuzzy.

"Do not say such things," you scolded him breathlessly. His hips stilled for a moment, waiting for you to continue. "Do not jest about your death. My heart cannot handle it."

His eyes softened and his mouth crashed against yours with a groan, overcome that you would feel so strongly for him. He began to roll his hips again but kept his mouth latched onto yours, swallowing down your whimpers and moans.

"I will never leave you," he whispered against your lips. His thrusts grew quicker but he tried his best to be careful and not drive himself too deep for fear of causing you pain. "I will always return now that I have you waiting for me. I shall be invincible in battle."

You laughed lightly, dragging your mouth down his throat and tasting his freshly perfumed skin.

"Was that all it took for you to become immortal?" you teased.

"Yes," he hissed, "a cunt as snug and perfect as yours is all a man needs to give him purpose."

His hand slithered between your back and sheets, pressing his palm firmly against your spine so you arched underneath him. His knees spread wider so he could get better leverage, and he began to roughly snap his hips. You gasped and grabbed onto his hair, giving it a sharp tug and making him groan. It was lewd yet somehow romantic, hearing the sound of your skin slapping together in the otherwise quiet room.

"Does it hurt?" he managed to ask through clenched teeth.

"No," you whimpered inbetween the soft moans he drew every time his cock slammed back into you. "Oh gods, Marcus, please-"

"What do you need, my love?"

He sounded breathless, his voice slightly strained, and your chest burst with pride. You loved the idea of being the one who made such a strong man so very weak.

"I- I am not sure," you admitted truthfully. "It feels so wonderful, but it is different than before."

As it turned out, you didn't need to figure out what you needed because Marcus knew. Somehow, he managed to know your body better than you. He knew how to make it sing and thrum just for him.

His hand snuck between your bodies and the pad of his thumb found your clit. He rubbed firm, slow circles over the sensitive bud, and his name instantly flew from your mouth, loud and wild. You likely could be heard from shore, but Marcus never shushed you. In fact, he smiled and worked his thumb faster, drawing out more delicious moans with every stroke.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured while sucking a mark into your neck. He could feel your lower belly begin to tense and heard your breath waver, so he circled his hips faster, cock greedily plunging in and out of your soaked cunt, chasing his release with reckless abandon now that he could feel you were close.

"I have obsessed over you for years. Dreamed of having you all to myself, just like this," he continued. He could sense his words had a great effect on you. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around him when he admitted his deepest secrets, so he kept talking.

"Long nights spent on the cold ground in the middle of war, I would dream of you. I would wonder what you would be doing back in Rome. I would pray you did not find a husband while I was away."

Marcus gasped when your cunt gripped around him so tightly that it took his breath away. "The thought of you belonging to another was enough to drive me insane," he groaned before capturing your lips with his.

"I am yours," you rasped when he pulled away, and when your eyes locked, he could see the adoration he felt for you reflected right back. "For as long as you will have me, I am yours."

Marcus's eyes slid closed in bliss after hearing the words he so longed to hear. "Come for me, my love. Come for me and when we return home, I shall make you my wife. I will take care of you. I promise you will never go hungry again."

Your hands grappled with the back of his head, fingers threading through his unruly locks as you pulled him down for a searing kiss. He muffled the sounds of your orgasm, cries of his name dying in your throat while your body bucked wildly beneath him.

It only took a few moments before he joined you. With his hand roughly squeezing your hip, he yanked you towards him. His body stilled, pumping you full of his seed while your tongues danced together in tandem until his shoulders sagged and you began to shake.

Marcus flicked the sheets so he could toss them over your trembling bodies. He planted kisses along the side of your head and jaw, then brushed the hair away from your face until your breathing leveled and your eyes reopened.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded and gave him a weak smile. "I am tired."

Marcus withdrew his hips, sliding his softening cock out from your clutch. You cried out in pain and he instantly jolted out of bed to soak a clean rag in some leftover warm water, then hurried back to press it between your legs.

"Better?"

"Yes," you sighed. "Thank you."

He gave you a quick kiss and slid back under the covers. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest so he could nuzzle your hair and murmur sweet nothings in your ear.

"Must you leave me in the morning? Can you not spend just one day recovering from your wound?"

Marcus kissed your bare shoulder and shook his head.

"The war is almost done. Tomorrow, I will make them surrender so we may sail home and start our life together."

You grinned and burrowed deeper under the covers. "Did you mean that?"

"What is that, my love?"

"When you said you would make me your wife," you said sheepishly. "Or was that just your mind getting lost to desire?"

"No, I meant every word," he said before rolling over and snuffing out the candle next to the bed. "When we return to Rome, I will make you my bride. You will bear my children and I will watch them play in the garden with you by my side."

You hummed and closed your eyes. "That sounds lovely."

You had very little idea of the politics in Rome and how the highest ranking general of the Roman army could possibly announce he was going to wed a poor farmer's daughter, but you knew deep down if Marcus wanted it, he would somehow make it happen. You knew this because his determination always won, on and off the battlefield.

After all, you were living proof of it.

[novelistwriter]

The Phantom Shifter

DP x DC Prompt

Danny discovered a new power, it allows him to mold his Ectoplasm into anything he wants, with his Ectoplasm perfectly mimicking the properties of the things he molds it into.

He began testing it out in private, seeing if there is a limit to what his Ectoplasm can be molded into, there isn't a limit.

He slowly began to use his new power in his battles with the Ghosts, just to help him get an edge in battle, especially against Vlad.

A year later, he got so used to using his new power, that he began to use it a lot in his battles and was using it for everyday use.

One day, during a quiet day in the Fenton household, Danny tiredly made his way to the kitchen, using his new power to help him fend off some reanimated food, of course, his parents had seen, and attacked him for "Using their Son's body"

One thing his new power provides is that his Ectoplasmic Signature is different when he is fully something or someone else, he used that to his advantage when he got a good enough distance from his parents, shifting into one of the GIW Agents and throwing off his parents, he returned to his house, where Jazz is preparing to help Danny, but only sees a GIW Agent.

Danny had to change back when he got a moment to breathe in between Jazz's attacks against him when he was mimicking a GIW Agent, he had to shift back before their parents and the actual GIW got ahold of his ecto Signature again.

He had to leave quickly, there was no telling when their parents or the GIW would come to their home, so Danny got his Go Bag, a USB to take and delete the blueprints his parents had on everything they had made, and went into the portal, with Jazz promising to tell his friends what had happened.

Danny finds himself in front of Clockwork's Tower, so he goes to see the Time Ghost. He wasn't expecting to find it empty, except for a note beside a portal that leads to a different dimension.

'Daniel, the Observants have meddle with the Timeline to force this outcome, you need not worry about them, I have gone to deal with them, in the meantime, I have found a place for you to live in.

C.W'

He is grateful that Clockwork had thought ahead and is dealing with the Observants, so he heads into the portal that Clockwork provided for him.

He emerged in a cave from a pool of Ectoplasm, he sees that its empty, and he thought that this is the perfect time to cross one of the things off his bucket list for his new power, becoming a Dragon to live in a cave, only for a few days at least.

On.the second day of him being a big Dragon, he feels a Liminal Human nearby, he looks to the direction of the approaching Liminal, and sees a person in red and black gear that's obviously a Hero getup. They have a stare down for a few moments before the Liminal backs away slowly to where they came from. Danny just goes back to sleep when the Liminal is gone.

The next day, Danny feels more Liminal Humans coming, he feels the Liminal from yesterday and is not wary, he knows that they are just wary of him and not hostile, so to refuel his Ectoplasm, he begins to drink some from the pool of Ectoplasm with him.

That is what Tim, Bruce, Damian, and Jason walk into, a big Dragon drinking from the Lazarus Pit beneath Gotham. They stare at it for a few moments before Damian speaks up.

"Why did you not mention the 'Entity' was a Dragon, Drake?"

[lizziesangel]

thinking about rafe cameron getting reader her job back…

rafe spotted you as you stepped out of the diner, still wearing your uniform and clutching your bag tightly. you didn’t notice him at first, leaning against his car, arms crossed casually. his smirk grew as he watched you, but it faded when he noticed how your shoulders sagged, the way your head was down.

“yo, y/n,” he called out, his voice carrying over the quiet of the parking lot. “rough day? you’re giving off serious ‘spit in someone’s food’ vibes.”

you froze for a second, then started walking past him without so much as a glance. “not now, rafe.”

his brows shot up. you usually rolled your eyes at his teasing or snapped back with some sarcastic comment, but now? you brushed him off completely. that wasn’t like you.

rafe pushed off the car, his smirk replaced with confusion. “what, no comeback? did someone finally manage to piss you off more than i do?”

“go away, rafe,” you muttered, keeping your pace brisk.

he frowned, stepping in your path. “okay, hold up. what happened?”

“nothing,” you snapped, trying to sidestep him. but he moved with you, his blue eyes narrowing as he studied your face.

“doens’t look like ‘nothing,’” he said, his tone softer now, the teasing edge gone. “talk to me.”

you exhaled sharply, looking anywhere but at him. “if you really need to know, my boss fired me. happy now?”

rafe blinked, his brows furrowing. “fired you? why?”

“because some kook came crying to him about something stupid,” you said bitterly. “she made a scene, and he decided it was easier to blame me than deal with it. so, now i’m unemployed. satisfied?”

he stared at you, his jaw tightening. “that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard. you’re the only reason that place doesn’t completely suck.”

you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “well, apparently, that doesn’t matter.”

rafe’s eyes darkened, a dangerous edge slipping into his voice. “what’s this guy’s name?”

“don’t even think about it,” you said quickly, pointing a finger at him. “i don’t need you getting involved, rafe.”

his lips parted to protest, but something in your tired expression stopped him. instead, he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away. “that’s seriously messed up,” he muttered. “you didn’t deserve that.”

“yah, well, life isn’t fair.” you shrugged, but your voice wavered. “anyway, i just want to go home.”

rafe nodded slowly, his chest tightening at how defeated you looked. “you need a ride or something? i don’t mind.”

you blinked at him, surprised by the gentleness in his tone. “no. i’m fine.”

“okay,” he said softly, watching as you walked off toward your house.

that night, rafe couldn’t stop thinking about you. the way your voice broke when you talked about getting fired, the way you’d tried to hide how upset you were. it gnawed at him, and the longer he sat with it, the angrier he got.

grabbing his phone, he called his father, pacing his room as the phone rang.

“rafe,” his dad said tiredly. “what is it now?”

“i need $500,000,” rafe said, not bothering with any pleasantries.

there was a long silence. “excuse me?”

“you heard me,” rafe said, his tone firm. “i need $500,000.”

“for what?” ward asked, his patience clearly wearing thin.

“i’m buying the diner, the one by the lake,” rafe said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

ward’s laugh was sharp and incredulous. “why the hell would you do that?”

“because the guy who owns it is a prick,” rafe snapped. “he fired someone who actually cares about that place just to save his own ass. so, i’m buying it. end of story.”

ward was silent for a moment. “this wouldn’t have anything to do with that girl you’ve been sniffing around, would it?”

rafe rolled his eyes, though his heart raced at the mention of you. “whatever. just send me the money.”

“fine,” ward sighed. “but don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.”

the next day, you got a call from the diner’s owner, informing you that there had been a “change in management.” you were being offered your job back—along with a raise.

confused, you walked back into the diner later that afternoon, only to find rafe leaning against the counter, looking far too pleased with himself.

“what are you doing here?” you asked warily.

he grinned, holding up a set of keys. “oh, you know. just checking on my new investment.”

your jaw dropped. “what do you mean, ‘new investment’?”

“i mean i bought the place,” he said casually, like it was no big deal. “figured someone needed to fix the mess your old boss made. starting with giving you your job back.”

you stared at him, completely floored. “you bought the diner?”

rafe shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “i mean, it’s not that big of a deal. but… yeah. you deserve better, y/n.”

“you’re worth it, okay? so don’t argue with me.”

you blinked, nodding slowly. “thanks, rafe.”

“anytime,” he said, his smile turning into something softer. “now, go ahead and take the rest of the day off. boss’s orders.”

MASTERLIST

[rosiereveries]

Part three of CEO!John Price

Part one | Part two

CW : smut, oral sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, mating press, little power imbalance, reader is a female

After you read the note that John left for you on your table, you are left feeling quite nervous but also excited. You were prepared for this. When you were getting ready for work this morning, you put on your favorite underwear. Lacy pink panties and matching bra that made your tits look great. You put on a lot of perfume, the one John had bought for you. You wore your best outfit, and you felt sexy and confident. You wanted to impress John, yesterday took you by surprise, but now you were in charge. When the time for his lunch break came, you were ready, so when you went to his office you knew what you wanted. You wanted him.

You find John sitting behind his table, working on his laptop. He looks good, so fucking hot without even trying. When he realizes that it´s you, who just walked in, he immediately shuts up his laptop and his full attention is on you. “Suddenly my day just got a lot better” he says and walks to you.

He gently places his hand on your cheek, and he kisses you. It’s nothing like the kiss you shared yesterday. This one is soft and gentle, like now he has time to taste you properly. He takes his time kissing you. When you try to touch him more, he pulls away. “Not now sweetheart, we have plans don’t we”. John walks out of the office with you. His hand on your back walking you through the whole floor like you’re his wife and not his secretary.

You’re confused. You expected a quick sex in his office, just like yesterday, you expected him to just pull your skirt up and fuck you on the desk. But now he is taking you somewhere in his expensive car and you’re wondering what the hell is going on.

You don’t know how John is feels about dating. You always thought that he was the type who just had casual sex with different partners. Since you started working for him, he didn’t have a girlfriend, but you heard from your colleges that he enjoys a company of beautiful women. Sometimes the relationship lasts longer but mostly there were a few weeks hook ups.

You stop in front of some Italian restaurant. He opens your door for you and like a true gentleman he helps you to get out of the car. The restaurant is lovely, there are only a few people inside and it looks really cozy. After you order your food he asks about your day, how did you sleep and what are your plans for the evening. He acts like you’re on a normal date and not on a business lunch. “I can see that something is bothering you, you don’t like it here?” John asks you after he notices how out of the place you look.

You tell him that you don’t understand what is going on, why are you here and what are you doing. “Well, I know that you don’t go out for your lunch break, so I wanted to take my girl out, take care of you.” He says it is not a big deal. “Your girl?” you ask. “What did you thought that I’m just going to fuck you in my office, when I am will be bored? John asks and your face goes red. That is exactly what you thought he would do. “I take care of my partners. I want to spoil you. Since you started to work for me you have been such a good girl, making my life so much easier. Now it is my turn.” You’re left speechless.

After the lunch, he takes you back to the office. His hand is on your thigh while he drives and it’s making you insane. Yes, you do like that he took you out but you’re so horny. The whole morning you imagined what he would do to you, and you were excited. And now he is teasing you with his fingers lightly brushing over your skin and each time he goes higher and higher.

At one moment when John’s hand is almost all the way under your skirt you moan. He looks at you with a playfulness in his eyes. Now he is teasing you on purpose. He continues to drive while his hand is slowly making its way in your panties. “Fuck love, you’re soaked, you could tell me that you wanted me so much.” Gently he starts to circle your clit and you’re opening your legs more for him.

He slowly puts two of his fingers inside you and after a while he starts to move them. You’re almost at the office building when he makes a turn and starts to drive in a different direction. “Where are we going?” you ask. “I made a promise to you yesterday, haven’t I. Were not fucking in my car. I am taking you to my place, so we don’t have to worry about some of your colleagues catching us fucking. We would want Janice from finance to see how good you take my cock. Am I right?”

To be honest you don’t care if Janice saw you. You’re so close and you can feel your orgasm approaching. John still casually drives while his fucking your pussy with his fingers. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you’re desperate, you just need a little bit more and you know that he knows it too. “You will come on my face in a minute don’t worry” John says.

And he is right the drive to his house is short and you both quickly get out of the car. When the door to his house closes behind you, he is immediately on you. Kissing you passionately and lifting you up so your legs are wrapped on his hips. He walks with you up the stairs not letting you go.

 “Everything off, I want to see you” he says when he lays you on his bed. You’re quick with your clothes and now you lay before him in nothing but your panties. “Fucking beautiful, and I bet you taste even better than you look.” “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart, let me see you” he gently pulls your panties, and he shows his head between your thighs. You’re already so wet and when he finally starts to lick your pussy your gone. You arch your back, and you can hear him whisper fucking perfect for me.  

When his tongue finds you clit you’re gone. He looks up at you and you can see your wetness on his beard and it’s the hottest thing you have ever seen. He quickly brings you to your orgasm and as he promised you to come on his face. When you finally come down from your orgasm you can see him taking his shirt off. He unzips his pants and quickly takes them off. He is on you naked, and you can see his hard dick leaking precum.

“I want to see your face this time, I want to see how pretty you’re going to look when I make you come on my dick.” He slowly pushes in you. “You were made for me honey, youre going to be the death of me.” he growls, and he starts to move in you. John is a big man and the way his stretching you is amazing. You can feel him everywhere and you are full.

It’s completely different than the sex you had yesterday. This is slow, his thrusts are hard, but it’s not rushed like the last time. He plays with your nipples, and you can feel that your second orgasm is approaching. “I am going to cum” you tell him, and you can feel that he is close too. He pushes your legs to your chest in a mating press and you can feel him so much deeper. “I need to come in your sweet pussy, please sweetheart be a good girl and let me” he says and you just nod. His fingers start to rub your clit and your orgasm hits you. He follows shortly after you spilling his seed into you. When he pulls out of you, he pulls you to his chest and he holds you so tight. You just lay there and you on his chest and his hands holding you.

You don’t go back to work that day, you stay at his place the night and the next day he drives you to your apartment. He tries to convince you to take the rest of the week off, so he can enjoy your company, but you tell him that he is the boss, and he needs to work, and he can’t take a vacation just because he is horny.  You go to work and when you go to your desk you see a note there, just like yesterday. But this time it says: My office now! And loose your panties on the way.

Masterlist

[thesquidgame]

Calm Before the Storm

Hwang Jun-ho x wife!reader

Summary: After your husband's disappearance, he starts to act different.

Warning: Angst, disappearance, gunshot wound, head injury, hospitals, mention of death, marital conflict, mention of divorce, guns

6k words

The worst day of your life happened after one of your husband’s work trips. He said that his team had gotten a lead on what might have happened to his brother and that he had to investigate. That was par for the course, every couple months there would be another potential lead on where your brother-in-law could be, but every couple months Jun-ho would be sorely disappointed. 

This time was different. He said he would be gone for a couple of days, and that he didn’t know if he would be able to get in contact. He left for one day, and then two, then more. His department panicked, apparently, it wasn’t a work trip and one of their detectives went missing. After a week his picture was on the nightly news, and after 10 days you were doing interviews begging for anyone who had any information to step forward. His mother came to sleep at your apartment, and she said she just wanted to help out with her daughter-in-law, but you could hear her sobs in the middle of the night through the thin walls between your bedroom and the guest room. 

At 5 AM, a week after Jun-ho’s disappearance, you got a call. They had found him. He was in a specialized emergency hospital on the outskirts of Seoul, and he was in a coma. You rushed to your car with your mother-in-law and broke speed limits that Jun-ho would never let you break when he was in the car with you. 

The hospital parking lot was nearly empty. The lobby was quiet when you walked in, and the front desk woman almost looked shocked when she saw two women with deep circles under their eyes and hair sticking in every direction. Honestly, you couldn’t care less. She was the receptionist at a hospital, if that was the craziest thing she’d seen she was in for a rude awakening when an actual patient came up to her desk.

She quickly directed you to his hotel room, on the 3rd floor, where his supervisor was already waiting. Time seemed to slow down as you rode the elevator. It couldn’t have taken longer than 20 seconds, but it felt like years. What if he was dying? What if he didn’t wake up? What if he was getting worse? Your thoughts kept racing, and you and Jun-ho’s mother couldn’t share a single word between the two of you between all of the panic going on inside your heads.

The floor was so quiet you could hear the squeak of a nurse’s shoes down the hallway. You should’ve run to your husband's bedside, but you couldn’t. You took one step at a time, terrified of what might await you. His supervisor stepped out the door and closed it. He looked at you with tired eyes. “Mrs. Hwang, Mrs. Park, I’m glad you could make it.”

“How’s my husband?” Formalities could wait. Formalities could go to hell.

He sighed, and your heart skipped several beats. “How is he?!” Jun-ho’s mother yelled. 

“He’s okay, he seems to be mostly stable, but I-” He raised his hand and scratched the back of his head, looking away at the ground, “I gotta be honest. He’s not great. He was shot and fell from a high distance into water. He passed out in the water and the doctors think he breathed in water and fell unconscious. They’re not sure of the extent of brain damage because he hasn’t woken up, but the lack of oxygen to his brain likely caused some sort of impact. There’s more, but they would only tell me the basics because I’m not family.”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. What if he didn’t wake up? What if he did and he wasn’t the same? Memories of the last night you spent together raced through your head. It had been a long exhausting day, and he somehow knew how terrible it had been. He brought takeout home and made an extra stop to get your favorite dessert from a bakery. He set the food down on the kitchen table and immediately made his way to you on the couch, leaned down, and kissed you until you needed to come up for air. You turned off the tv and sat on the couch for hours, eating and talking and eventually fucking. Right before you went to bed he told you that he was going on the trip tomorrow, and you just smiled and nodded, thinking it was going to be like all the other times.

You pushed past the sergeant and walked into your husband’s room. His bed was separated from an empty one by a curtain. You couldn’t feel your own feet as you walked towards it, and it almost felt like your hand wasn’t moving at all when you pushed past the curtain.

Jun-ho looked like death. There was a tube shoved in his throat and his skin was so pale it looked translucent, the blue of his veins showing through on his arm next to an IV. The circles under his eyes were deep and dark, and he was in a neck brace, with his head bandaged. 

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. The second his mother saw him, she collapsed at his side and laid her body over his legs. Her cries were guttural and came from something that must’ve broken inside of her. “My baby, my baby. I lost one son, I’ll die if I lose another.”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t cry. You sunk to a chair at his side and reached out for his hand. He was so cold. His skin felt like he had just been taken out of the ocean minutes before, and his heart rate was so slow it felt like it was second between beats.

You didn’t hear the doctor come into the room until he spoke. Jun-ho’s mother looked up and stared at him like he was an angel, but you couldn’t look away from your husband’s unmoving body.

“Mrs. Hwang, can I talk to you about your husband’s condition?” You didn’t move, his mother had to beg the doctor to continue speaking. “He was shot in his left shoulder, luckily the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs, but because of the time between the injury and his arrival at the hospital, he lost a significant amount of blood. We think he hit the water head-first, and the impact caused his neck to break, luckily, there was no spinal cord damage. We induced him into a coma once he reached the hospital, so unfortunately we aren’t able to tell the extent of the damage unless he wakes.”

Your mother and law stood up “Unless? What do you mean by unless?!” she screamed. “My son is not going to die, do you hear me?!” 

You felt broken, Jun-ho had to wake up, he had to. You didn’t care if he couldn’t walk, or speak, but he had to wake up.

You could hear fists banging against the doctor’s chest, but you didn’t turn around. Just kept staring at your husband’s pale face, and pale hands.

The hospital had apparently received a large grant during COVID to expand, and when the pandemic had died down they became designated only for acute emergency cases and recovery care, and many rooms were kept vacant. The staff let you stay in the other bed in his room, and there was a shower attached to the room, designed for patients in long-term recovery and their family members. The hospital had a small cafeteria that made shockingly delicious Korean food, and they delivered the meals to the room three times a day. Before long, you became used to the tired routine of late-night check-ups and tired smiles from the nurses urging you to go home and rest. You were terrified that if you left the hospital Jun-ho would die before you could get back, but you couldn’t tell the nurses that. You just told the nurses that your house was far away and it was more convenient to stay at the hospital as opposed to making the commute or getting a hotel room.

It was three weeks before Jun-ho moved. In that time, you hadn’t left the hospital once. He squeezed your hand while you were holding it, and at first, you thought you imagined it. You called the doctor, and she said she would keep an eye on it, but not to get your hopes up- apparently twitching was normal in coma patients. Several hours later you felt the squeeze again, and when you looked up, you saw Jun-ho’s eyes open the slightest bit. 

It was like a month’s worth of fear and pain cascaded over in a heartbeat, and you collapsed on his chest in broken sobs, staring up at your husband. His mother was there, and she leaned over at him, pleading his name. He stared at you for as long as he could, until his eyes closed again, his eyelids twitching like he wanted them to stay open. Once his eyes closed your hand was still holding his in a tight grip, and you reached open to press the button again.

In the next couple of days, he went in and out of consciousness at increasing intervals. The first moment where you felt like you could breathe again came a week after he first squeezed your hand, when you awoke from sleeping laying on his lap while you sat in the chair to the sound of gagging. You heard his heartbeat increase and saw his throat convulse and his eyes flash open as he fought his breathing tube. 

You immediately pressed the call button for the nurse, and when they took too long you went out into the hallway and screamed for a nurse. There were only a couple of patients on his hall, and they could go screw themselves if they thought their sleep was more important than your husband's choking. The nurse and doctor came running and closed the door on you. Within a couple of minutes the nurse opened the door, and let you step inside. The doctor tried to talk to you, but you couldn’t hear anything she was saying as you walked past her toward your husband’s side.

“Baby,” Jun-ho whispered. His voice was hoarse and broken, and you could feel tears streaming down your face.

“Honey, you’re- you’re here.” You cried more and more, and he painfully reached his arm up to you.

“It’s okay (y/n), I was never going anywhere, I’m here.” You tucked your head into his neck and sobbed into his hospital gown. 

He stroked your hair slowly until his hand rested on the back of your head. You looked up to see that he had fallen back asleep, exhausted from the ordeal of choking on his breathing tube. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wet from a single tear rolling down his face, and tucked your head back down to fall asleep again.

You woke up to a nurse gently shaking you away, informing you that you had to sleep in the other bed to prevent infection. You wanted to fight her for doing her job, but obliged. You fell back asleep quickly, too tired to stay awake because of the crying you had just finished doing.

“(Y/n).” You awoke to a quiet voice, blinking your eyes because of the bright sunlight streaming through the window. You immediately looked over at Jun-ho to see your fiance with his head turned looking at you.

“Jun-ho.” You stood up, stumbling out of bed in the clothes you had to have been wearing for at least a couple of days before now, and went over to kiss him on the lips, the same way he had the last time you had seen him before he went missing. He reciprocated with more force than you thought someone who hadn’t moved any part of his body in a month could.

“I missed you so much honey, I couldn’t breathe for so long.” He smiled and wiped a tear off of your face. 

“I know baby, but I’m here now, I’m here.” He looked at you with so much love and life in his eyes, exactly what you had been missing for the past month.

“I was so scared Jun-ho, first I couldn’t find you, and then once I did I- I wasn’t sure.” You paused, another tear streaming down your face. “I wasn’t sure you would make it.” You whispered.

“I know (y/n), and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You- you got shot. You fell from really high into the water far out in the ocean. You have no idea how scared I was.”

His brow furrowed painfully before he suddenly pulled his head back and winced. “Jun-ho, Jun-ho? Are you okay?!”

You frantically pushed the call button and within seconds there was a team of doctors and nurses entering the room. They slowed slightly when they saw the scene in front of them, and quickly determined there was no immediate danger, and quickly began examining him and asking you both questions. Once the rest of the group left, Jun-ho’s main doctor sat in a chair to explain the situation to the both of you.

She explained what the team had seen when they had checked Jun-ho over, and explained the need for another set of scans to ensure there was no serious brain injury. “We also will need to call the police back to the hospital, because of the gunshot wound.”

Jun-ho froze, and his back grew stiff. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You rested your hand in his grip, tightening it around his.

“Nothing’s wrong, just nervous about the tests.” He squeezed your hand back and smiled up at you at your position sitting next to him on the bed. His body remained stiff, and your brow furrowed in confusion. He was likely traumatized and in pain, both physically and mentally.

Once the doctor left, you apprehensively asked him “Honey, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but… What happened when you were gone, with the fall, and the gunshot wound?”

He looked away from you and glanced out the window. He paused, “I don’t know. I don’t remember what happened.”

You leaned in and squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay if you do, I just want to help you.”

He remained looking out the window, until he looked back at you, something tight across his eyes. “I really don’t know, can we please talk about something else. I’m going to get enough of that from my coworkers later anyways.” He laughed, but the tightness across his face remained the same.

Smiling a similar tight smile, you squeezed his hand back. “Okay. Just, let me know if you remember anything.”

“Now, is there anything I can do to help you?” 

“Jun-ho, I’m not the one who just woke up from a coma, that’s my line!” Jun-ho smiled a real smile, and you copied him, smiling your first genuine smile in weeks.

After the tests, you wheeled Jun-ho in a wheelchair back into his hospital room, where you were greeted by his boss sitting in your usual chair next to his bedside. He stood up to greet you, “Detective! It’s so good to see you awake again!” He bowed to Jun-ho, and your husband nodded his head in return.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you think we could do the interview now? Just so we don’t get more in the way of you and your lovely wife.” He smiled, but there was anxiety furrowing his brow. He was clearly using many tactics that you watched Jun-ho explain that the police force used on victims and their families.

Jun-ho smiled back, “of course.” He looked up at you and smiled a similar tight smile towards you. “Honey, do you think you could go and get some coffee from downstairs for us?” 

You nodded, unsure of what to do as you could clearly tell that the coffee run was just an excuse to get you out of the room. “Of course.” There wasn’t anything you could do about it, and confronting your husband about something he is clearly not ready to talk about would certainly not be a solution. “Officer, would you like me to get you anything?”

He waved you off and you hesitantly exited the room to go downstairs.

Due to the emptiness of the hospital, it didn’t take you long to go down to the cafeteria, pick up some coffee for you and Jun-ho, and come back upstairs. When you reached the floor that the room was on, you hesitated, noticing that the door was cracked and the sounds of him and his boss were still quietly filtering out into the hallway.

You debated for a second staying and eavesdropping, but your moral compass won out in the end. Whatever it was, Jun-ho was clearly not ready to tell you. You didn’t want to betray his trust, and eventually, he would share it with you. The two of you had no secrets between you. If there ever was a night when Jun-ho would have to stay later at work, or was suddenly asked to hang out by his friends, he would call you immediately and tell you what was going on and when he would probably be home. Not that you necessarily needed him to, you trusted him, but he insisted that he never wanted you to worry after him. You did the same in turn, even though your job was far less demanding than his and plans came up far less sporadically for you than they did for him.

As you walked away, you heard a sliver of the conversation “hundreds… shot.” It made you pause in your step. You must’ve misheard. Maybe he had said something else. Maybe you were too sleep-deprived and stressed to think clearly. Still, you turned those words around in your head as you sat in a chair in the hallway next to the nurse’s station.

If you hadn’t misheard- if; what would it mean? Did Jun-ho have a brain injury that didn’t turn up on scans that makes him misremember what happened? Or- or was he telling the truth? Your husband wasn’t a liar, he was the perfect detective because of his strict moral compass, so that must mean… That must mean that if there was no brain injury, and if you didn’t mishear, wherever Jun-ho was he had watched hundreds of people die.

You heard a knock on the doorframe, “Mrs. Hwang, we’re done with the interview.” 

You stood up and walked toward the door when the other detective put his hand on your shoulder while his face grimaced. “I hope everything works out well for the two of you, I really do.” With that foreboding line of encouragement, he walked past you and towards the elevator.

When you entered the room, Jun-ho smiled at you. “(Y/n).” You walked towards him and kissed his forehead, handing him the cup of coffee.

Kissing his forehead, you asked, “How did it go? Are you alright?”

Jun-ho’s brow creased, but he smiled back at you still. “It went well, I just told him that I didn’t know anything.”

That didn’t make sense. You had to have been gone for at least 20 minutes, there was no way those 15 minutes were filled with the other detective asking questions that your husband kept saying no to.

“I’ll have to go into the station later on after I’m discharged and give a longer more formal statement, but for now they’ll leave us alone.”

“Great, I’m glad to have you all to myself.” You leaned over and kissed him on the lips again. You trusted him, and whatever it was that he wasn’t telling you, he would open up about soon. 

He didn’t. After another 2 weeks, the hospital was completely sure there were no long-standing effects. Besides having to regularly come in for check-ups and to carefully not hurt the shoulder where he was shot, miraculously there were no other serious effects.

You had finally gone back into the apartment after he woke up, although you weren’t happy about going back when it was lifeless due to Jun-ho’s absence. By the time he was discharged, the apartment was dust-free, and you made sure that everything was the same as it had been when he had first gone missing.

In the past couple of weeks, Jun-ho had been too calm. He was casual about just about everything. He was smiling, and making jokes, like nothing had ever happened. But, underneath it all, you could tell something was different. When you’ve been with someone for so long, had exchanged wedding vows, and slept in the same bed for years, you just knew them. You knew your husband, and something was off about him. He refused to go to sleep in the hospital room with the door open, and every time you came or went he would make you close the door behind you. He insisted that you spent the night in the hotel room with him (not that you were complaining) even when he was far out of the danger zone. On the car ride home from the hospital he would check the mirrors every time he thought you weren’t looking.

There was something completely off about him, he seemed paranoid, and for the first time in your relationship besides his brother’s disappearance- scared. But every time you would ask him what was wrong, he would just smile and say “I’m alright, just adjusting.”

You carried all of your stuff to the apartment, insisting on doing so even though your stubborn husband wanted to carry luggage even with a bullet recently being removed from his shoulder. But, when you left the elevator and were about to go into the apartment, he stopped you by putting his hand out.

“Baby, I just want to get inside. This is heavy.” You complained.

“I know, just- just give me a minute. I want to check something.” He silently turned the key to your small apartment, took off both his shoes, and stepped inside. He pulled up his pant leg slightly and took out a gun that you didn’t even notice was there.

“Jun-ho!”

He turned back to you and put his finger to his lips, shushing you. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He closed the door behind him, and you stood there shocked. You knew something was wrong, but you didn’t expect him to take out a gun and search your home.

In a couple of minutes, he came back out. “What the hell Jun-ho? What was that!” 

“It was nothing, I’m sorry.” He put the gun back away.

“Why would you search our house? You’ve never done that before. Seriously Jun-ho, what’s going on?” You shouted, exasperated by him saying one thing and acting in a completely opposite way.

“It’s nothing.” He sighed, “I’m sorry (y/n), I’m just scared. It’s been a while since I’ve been out of the hospital, so I’m nervous.” He leaned in and gave you a hug, which you reciprocated. But still, that wasn’t the whole truth.

“I think you should see someone Jun-ho, this isn’t normal.” You said into your husband’s chest.

“(Y/n), I’m fine. I promise.” You leaned your head up and kissed him again.

The first week back was difficult. Jun-ho seemed terrified of just about everything around him. The both of you barely left the house, and when you did his hand held yours in a tight grip.

Your job had given you an extended leave to take care of Jun-ho, but your leave was ending in a few weeks once the two-month mark passed. 

You were laying in bed one night, Jun-ho tracing circles on your shoulder as you spooned after making love. “Jun-ho, I’m worried about you.”

He kissed your shoulder, “what about?” He said casually.

You rolled over to face him. “About everything, you’ve been so scared and stressed. I don’t know what’s going to happen once I go back to work.” 

He propped his head on his hand as he laid on his side, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m starting to feel better. I’m sorry I’ve been so paranoid lately.”

You sighed, “I want you to see someone Jun-ho. I don’t want this to fester and fester.”

He sighed, “I know (y/n), I promise it’ll get better soon. I talked to the chief today, I’ll go back to work next week.”

You shot up in bed, “two weeks? Babe, that isn’t nearly enough time. You still can’t lift anything heavier than a paper clip with your left arm.”

Jun-ho reached back towards you and stroked your arm. “Well good thing I’m right-handed.” He smirked.

Tilting your head, you just looked back at your husband anxiously. “Jun-ho this is serious. You aren’t ready to go back to work.”

“(Y/n), please trust me. This will all be over soon, okay?” He looked at you pleadingly. He didn’t want you to drop it or ignore it, he wanted you to- trust him? There was a secret, but he clearly didn’t want you to know it, and just to wait.

Sighing, you said, “Okay, I’ll wait.” You didn’t know what else to say. You couldn’t make him tell you the truth, and he wanted you to not push it. There was nothing to do. “But I really want you to talk to someone.”

He leaned in to kiss you, and right before he touched your lips, he said “Okay, I will; for you.” Then he closed the distance and kissed you until you needed to come up for air.

Your house was quieter after you both went back to work. When Jun-ho came home from work he would make his way next to you on the couch, lay down, and put his head on your lap. It was nice at first, after so much stress you could simply relax and enjoy each other's company.

Soon after getting home, he would get tired. Sometimes falling asleep on your lap.

After a month of him getting back to work, you were exhausted from the silence. It became oppressive. You grew tired of the same routine, and how your husband never quite grew less paranoid. He became better at hiding it, attaching cameras and extra locks around your house under the guise of burglaries in the building that you had never heard of. He would stand up from his crouch install the locks and wrap his arms around you, kissing you and telling you that he just wanted you to be safe.

Before his accident, he would wake up every morning and make breakfast for the both of you, insisting that it was the most important meal of the day. After the accident, he started to make lunch as well, and whenever you suggested that you go out for dinner, he smiled and told you that he enjoyed your cooking so much more.

Then, after 3 months, he came home completely exhausted. It was later than usual, and you stayed up late to greet him, completely concerned by his lack of response to any of your texts. “Jun-ho, where the hell were you? Are you okay?!” You ran up to him as soon as he opened the door, looking him up and down for any injuries.

“No, I’m fine.” He smiled a lopsided and insincere smile at you. He smelled like alcohol.

“Were you drinking?” You demanded.

“Me and my coworkers went out for a couple of bottles of soju after work, nothing much.” He shook off his shoes and went to hug you.

You pulled away, “why didn’t you tell me? We always tell each other these things.” 

“Baby, I had a long, long day, let’s not do this right now.”

“No, we have to do this right now, what happened? You’ve been so strange lately, and you never went to talk to someone like you said you would.” You paused, tears beginning to well up in your eyes, “I’m really concerned for you. I want you to get tested for PTSD.”

He stepped closer to you, “I don’t have PTSD, I just had a long day.” You didn’t move. He sighed, “(Y/n), please, I’m exhausted. Can we do this tomorrow?”

You didn’t say anything but didn’t move when he closed the distance between you to pull you into a tight hug. You finally reciprocated, pulling him closer, when you heard silent sniffling from next to your ear. In a heartbeat, you felt a drop of wetness on your shoulder. 

The next day, Jun-ho quit being a detective. After he started crying, he pretended like nothing had happened, got silent, and took a shower before going to bed. You barely spoke another word the rest of the night, but after he thought you went to sleep you could feel him trace circles on your shoulder.

He told you as soon as he got home that being a detective was too much work for him after the accident, and he tired more easily, but you didn’t buy it for a second.

“Jun-ho, you love your job, why would you quit? Do you want to go back on leave?” You pleaded at your husband.

He smiled back at you, “Of course I love my job, it’s only temporary.” And he leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

Temporary. Although your better judgment told you otherwise, you put all your faith in that one little word. Temporary, this, like everything else making your husband act so different, would pass.

Jun-ho came home late the next day. Then the next. The first you waited up for him, sitting at the dinner table, your food growing cold. When your husband came in, he didn’t smell like alcohol, he simply kissed you on the forehead and sat down across from you, not confronting his tardiness. You cried yourself to sleep that night, with your husband laying stiff as a board next to you, unsure of what to do.

The next night, when he was late, you didn’t bother to wake up. You left his food in the fridge and went to bed early, tears streaming down your face. You were still awake when he came into bed but pretended to be asleep. You could feel the bed shaking from his silent sobs.

The next month went on in the same way, with the only escape from the monotony of your miserable silence being Jun-ho’s one day off. On that one day, you would pretend that you didn’t have any problems, that you were a normal couple who would go walking through the cherry trees and go out drinking together late at night. You went on a double date with one of your coworkers and her husband and sat awkwardly through one of their arguments. It wasn’t the same, but having some bit of refuge away from your stress was a lifesaver.

But even that changed. One day, you decided to go kayaking out in the bay, and while you were out in the water, Jun-ho stopped for a minute. There was a gap in your conversation, and during it, your husband stopped paddling.

“Babe, are you alright?”

He looked up at you as if startled. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He paused, “Would it be okay if we went back, I need to do something important.”

“Um, yeah sure. What is it?” You hesitantly asked.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Your face sank. Every question you asked your husband ended with him saying ‘It’s nothing,’ no matter how big of a deal it likely was.

A couple of days later, when your husband came home late again, he told you that he would be busy on his day off and that a friend of his needed help on his boat. You just smiled and nodded, because what else could you really do?

Then he was busy the next weekend, and then the next, and the next. You only really saw your husband for a couple of minutes in the morning, and a couple of minutes in the night. Sometimes, you were able to make time. Sometimes, you would go out for a nice dinner, or go out to a friend’s party for the holidays. On your birthday he took the whole day off work and planned every single thing you would do all day. He made breakfast, took you shopping in the morning, went out to a nice lunch, took you out to the countryside to the ocean, and bought you lunch in your favorite tiny spot next to the shore. It was like for just 24 hours you had your husband back.

But other than that, it was like living with a ghost. He got more and more stressed over time. He smiled the same amount, but even with taking a demotion to a regular cop, he was getting worse and worse over time. He felt tenser, and more on edge than he had ever been before.

Every night you would fall asleep crying, you became used to waking up with a wet pillow or having to look at your puffy eyes when you wiped the condensation off the mirror after crying in the shower. Whenever Jun-ho saw the tears, whether you were laying in bed or cooking dinner on one of the rare nights that he came home early would wrap you in a hug from behind, and say, “I’m so sorry honey, I promise this will pass.” 

And you would plead, “Please honey, please, just tell me what’s happening, please be here more.”

And he would press his head into your back and whisper, “I can’t, I’m sorry. I love you.”

Your hopes would drop all over again, “I love you too.”

It was three years before anything changed. You would constantly beg him to do anything, to see someone, to talk to you, to do anything. Your friends asked you if he was cheating, but you knew he wasn’t. You knew, somehow that whatever was happening, was big, and important. And that it was eating you and your husband alive.

You didn’t see him for three days. He answered all of your texts with “Just something for work, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” Nothing else. No explanation for anything.

You slept on the couch and stayed there when you were awake, racked with anxiety. When he finally came home you sat there staring straight ahead. He didn’t speak.

You had pictured a fight, a confrontation. You had begged and pleaded, with tears in your eyes before. But nothing had happened. And after almost four years, you didn’t have any energy left.

“I want a divorce.” You surprised yourself with the words.

You looked up at him, and he stood there, his expression unreadable. 

“If you can’t tell me what the hell is going on, tomorrow I’m going to a lawyer.” 

He stumbled toward you and dropped to his knees in front of you, “(Y/n), please. You just have to trust me. This, this’ll all be over soon. I know I’ve said it before, but this time I mean it, soon it’ll be just like before.”

You looked into your husband’s eyes which were beginning to fill with tears. “I don’t believe you.”

“Baby, please. I can’t tell you, I really can’t.” His head dropped, breaking eye contact as you saw a tear fall down to reach the floor. He whispered, “If- if you know the truth, I don’t know what’ll happen to you. And I can’t risk that. I- I’ve risked everything else. But I can’t risk you.”

You couldn’t cry, your tears were all dried up. You should be shocked by what he was saying, but your mind went back to what you heard him say from outside that hospital room years ago “Hundreds… Shot.”

“I know, I’ve known. I know that you remember, and I know that it’s related to when you went missing. I just need you to trust me. I can’t do this anymore.”

He looks up at you, grabbing your hands and wrapping his around yours. “I know, I’m so sorry, but I need you to just wait a little bit longer-”

You stood up. “I think you should leave.” 

“(Y/n), please.”

You walked away from him, towards your bedroom. “(Y/n), I love you.”

“I love you.” And then you heard the door shut.

As you lay in bed, you couldn’t help but feel empty, like your heart had been torn out of your chest. The brutal calm you had been through was over, but storm had just begun.

Part two will be out with the next season, stay tuned for more!

[incognit0slut]

was i stupid to love you?

in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.

content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)

The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.

Not here.

Not now.

Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”

You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”

He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”

You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.

It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”

The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”

You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”

A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t want to eat anything?”

You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."

The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”

A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”

“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”

Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."

He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."

"Right. Considerate.”

There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.

“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

"Honey."

The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.

He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"

The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.

“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”

The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.

His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.

Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Your heels click softly as you turn.

“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.

“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”

You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.

“Honey.”

Not again.

You decide to ignore him.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

You tug harder at the strap. “No.”

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”

You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can. But let me—”

“I can do it myself!”

Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.

You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.

You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”

You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”

Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”

"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"

You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”

You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”

He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.

You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.

This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.

“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”

His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”

“What do you remember of it?”

There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."

“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”

His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”

There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.

A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.

“That’s not what happened."

“Then what was it?��� you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."

“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”

His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."

“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”

A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.

“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”

“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”

He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”

The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”

“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."

“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"

He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"

Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.

You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.

“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”

“But you could’ve put me on there!”

The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.

“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”

Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”

Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.

“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”

Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.

“I need a minute.”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”

You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”

“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”

You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”

“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”

“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”

“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”

“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you!”

A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.

“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.

“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”

You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”

“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."

Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.

"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."

You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.

“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.

You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.

“You haven’t explained it to me.”

The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”

His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.

“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”

The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.

You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.

“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”

You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.

“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”

He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”

You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”

His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."

You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"

He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."

Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”

He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”

You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.

“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”

He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”

“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”

“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”

You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.

“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"

You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.

You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.

JJ said she loved me.

Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?

Don’t worry. It’s not true.

But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.

“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”

In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Now those words you might actually believe.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.

And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.

A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.

“What are you doing?”

You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”

His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.

“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”

You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.

“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”

There’s a sharp ache in your chest.

“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”

Your pulse ring in your ear.

“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”

“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.

“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“Spence…”

“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”

But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.

You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.

You feel like a fool.

“I want to go to bed.”

His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.

“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”

A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.

You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.

“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”

You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.

The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.

Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.

[cathnospam]

Adding onto this drabble of how Bakugo likes to stare at you, but with a bit a smutty..

CW: Bakugo is a pervert trynna fight it, Some fluff, Smut implied at end, Reader IS a pervert, Black Reader slightly Implied???

Bakugo has a bad staring problem.

He had a feeling you knew he knew that he would do more than just glance at you which is why you decided to sit next to him up until you all graduated high school and attended college.

Since UA made a new section of the school that is for the college students only the classrooms are different, no more desk but rows of seats, and means sitting even closer. Bakugo didn’t know if he should be pissed off or more excited.

Yes he sits closer, but now his staring would be evident. Turning almost a whole 180 just to get a good look of your side profile. And the thought of you catching him or anything saying about it makes him want to smack the shit out of Deku or Kami.

“Wanna study?”

Your voice was something else. So feminine and soft he practically tries to savor each sweet vowel ….as corny as it sounds….though he has overheard you speak negatively about it a few times. If he had a right mind he’d let you know how much serotonin your voice carries.

“Your grades that bad?”

“No, I aced the last exam with a 98%.”

Bakugo only got 95.

He tsks adjusting himself uncomfortably to get a better look at you. Of course you’re also smart to pair.

The study dates turned into a common practice, but instead of studying it’s be a movie marathon or going to eat some food together at a nearby restaurant.

And his eyes never cracked away from you.

Bakugo would watch you as you spoke, laughed, ate, even stared when you were just doing absolutely nothing, but tapping away on your phone.

He just does not know why he can’t stop, but he doesn’t care and you seem to not care much either.

By the third year before graduation you began to take note of him always looking at you. At some point you wanted to confirm your suspicions so you’d angle yourself a little more his direction to see him from your peripheral vision, and alas you were right. He always looks at you.

He starts from your legs, stops and admires your thighs, to your chest and lands his gaze on your face. You’ve became accustomed to it so much whenever you wear your braids, or locs, or whichever new hairstyle that week parted it’s be on the opposite side so he can still see your face.

It wasn’t weird though, his eyebrows were furrowed, but he looked so cute and relaxed. Plus, it didn’t hurt since..he was your little crush.

It has been 4 months now and Bakugo practically lives in your dorm. His spare clothes are in your drawers, his winter hero costume is beside yours in your closet, he even has some of his hygiene products in your bathroom when he spends the night.

It’s been a routine now; class together, after school lunch together, spar separately or hang out with friends separately but Bakugo comes to your room to take a shower and bring you both dinner.

This time though Bakugo came back from his work study a little later, which you didn’t mind, but you decided to order some dinner, your favorite and his and head to take a quick shower.

Bakugo actually had to catch himself from grinning at your text. He felt more motivated to finish his job quicker today and head back to you.

He missed you without realizing it.

After eating, you finally got up from mindlessly scrolling on tiktok and grabbing the takeout from the front , to take your shower. The hot water feels so nice on your body you forgot all your worries of today and Bakugo was just coming back to the dorms.

He unlocks your door with the spare key you gave him and hears the water running, he sees your phone unlocked in your bed with some video replaying on tiktok and he scoffs. Of course you’re just NOW getting in the shower. He wanted to take one.

Bakugo places his gauntlet and strips his uniform down to just his tank top and boxers on your semi filled hamper and wait. He did not feel like heading to the other side of the building to take a shower and head back. Too tired.

While eating the food you got him he finds the receipt you tossed and crumbled in the trash, and scoffs, “why does she do this..” he mumbled as he pulls out his phone to Apple Pay you back the difference, he doesn’t usually let your pay for anything when you’re with him even if you offer so it was practically second nature to him.

Laying back on your bed with a towel he starts up a show as he waits for you, and while looking at the TV he notices your bathroom door beside it opened.

Without thought he tilts his head almost like a confused dog to get a better view of the noises you’re making inside. Mindless humming, singing, and soft moans whenever you let the hot water touch the sensitive areas of your skin.

You sounded…so attractive.

He wasn’t sure if you knew he was back yet, he made enough noises and comments to himself loud enough, but you didn’t respond back. You didn’t even hear the TV playing. Were you really that careless?

Thank God your door was locked.

He kept quiet for a moment, muting the TV and ate in silence to hear the ambiance of your shower. Bakugo wasn’t really thinking at this point.

“K-Kats ~”

If Bakugo had dog ears one would be up right about now, he gets up and walks over to the doors. No way he heard you moan—-

“Katsuki~”

His name.

He had heard HIS name moan out of YOUR mouth.

It spilled out of your lips like honey, the soft heavy breaths, if he focused his hearing he could have heard your squelches your sex was spewing out from you little fingers.

Bakugo knew. He knew better. He always had pride he wasn’t a pervert like his friends.

Kaminari admitting he steals Jirou’s panties

Kiri sometimes watches Mina get dressed when he’s in her room

Even Sero sending pervy pictures to his long distance girlfriend at random hours of the day

Bakugo was BETTER than them, because he never did anything perverted with you.

But

He’s still a man at the end of the day.

“Katsuki…ah…”He slowly rises from the bed.

And he still has needs.

“Kats….”He peaks his head at the creaked bathroom door.

And he still had a staring problem.