#please giver her a boyfriend

[immaculatemadonna23]

Innocence ^^

She winned a new Character data sheet ✨ one Where she shows her face... And some of her trashy stuff.

Birth: December; 28th 1908

Veracruz, México.

"From being thrown into a box by a friend to be sent to the USA, to developing immunity to Mrs. Bapka's sandwiches (being immune does not mean that she likes them.) "Innocence" is a girl with no experience in the real world, with virgin fantasies and naivety which are the ones that guide her horribly large and depressing eyes. Albino and with poor English, she became a recurring character in the parks of St. Louis, being one more crazy girl who dances until nightfall with a candle on her head and selling her flowers to people of dubious origin, she lives without distinguishing wolves in sheep's clothing and in love with lunatic troubadours. She likes currant popsicles, singing to pigeons and playing the harp. Her dream is to appear in a movie and become famous."

If you ask... She doesn't have claws.

[evergone]

Hypocrite

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (sex), swearing

Description: The reader is embarrassed by the hickies Theo left on her, but she's not one to speak.

Merlin, you were pissed. Or, maybe — maybe you were embarrassed. Afterall, there were purple and yellow bruises all over your breasts and along your collarbone and up the sides and back of your neck. Despite your best efforts, your makeup hadn’t covered them all, and the collar of your blouse kept smearing the foundation and exposing more of them to the entire student body. A student body who couldn’t stop talking about you.

“Trip down the stairs did you, Y/n?” Pansy teased.

“Our very own Slytherin slut,” Daphne laughed fondly.

“By the name of Salazar,” Blaise breathed heavily at the sight of them.

You could only sigh in frustration, your head in your palms, “Guys, stop, please. Everyone and their mothers are giving me shit about it, you don’t need to join in.”

You weren’t lying. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape had practically burnt a hole through your neck, and then, in Transfiguration, McGonagall had quietly asked if you needed to step out to touch up your makeup. The worst, however, was Potions with Slughorn. His opinion of you since the beginning of the year had been purely positive since your family were fairly wealthy and you achieved some of the highest grades in his class. When he saw the hickeys all over you, though, his bulbous nose had turned up in disgust and he made a most unpleasant grunt of disproval. You were sure you had made his blacklist.

“This warrants murder,” said Pansy.

“It does, doesn’t it?” You asked, “I am so fucking mad at him for this.”

Oh, but you could hardly speak.

You and Theo (your boyfriend and hickey-giver) both received invitations to a party that was held the night before, and despite knowing you had school the next day, you went. Once you were about ten drinks in, you were completed sloshed, and when you were completely sloshed, you got horny.

Though the crowd of party-goers stood between yourself and Theo, you could still see every part of him. He was just standing there, chatting with Blaise and Draco, a can of cheap beer held lazily in his right hand while his left was barely touching his hip. He was so, so hot. You bit your lip sexily then made your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing the back of his white shirt, and leaving stains of red lipstick all over it.

“Hey, Y/n, baby,” he hummed, happy from all the drinks he’d downed in the three hours prior, “What’s up?”

“Teddyyy,” you mused and stared up at him as he looked over his shoulder at you, “I want sex.”

Blaise and Draco snickered and Theo shot them a glare. After that, you can imagine what happened. Lots of moaning, groaning, grunting, panting. Enough snogging to last you both a lifetime, but not really because there was no such thing as “enough snogging,” and love making that lasted well past the rise of the sun that peeked through the window to Theo’s dorm room and illuminated every gorgeous curve of your body.

While Theo was the kind of sexual partner to want to leave marks all over you — not because he was the jealous type, just the prideful type, he liked everyone to see that he’d won you — you were the kind of sexual partner who liked it rough. You liked to feel his dick more or less pounding against your womb, so close that it almost warranted a trip to Madame Pomfrey. You liked when he thrusted into you fast, but not sloppy, always obeying your comments of ‘faster, Theo’ and ‘honey, please, I need it faster.’ But he couldn’t obey too much, you were very particular about that. He had to make you feel good, but he still had to be in control. It was always best if he gave in to every third or fourth demand, so that you had to beg for it. But the best part about rough sex with Theo? Well, it was what made you such a hypocrite.

“Mate,” Draco gaped at Theo’s back in the locker rooms before quidditch practice, “Did you get into a fight with a werewolf or something?”

Theo frowned in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

Draco motioned for Theo to move into view of the mirror and when he got a good look at his reflection he joined in the gaping. Long, red lines ran down his back like the British army at the Battle of Balaclava. He had become a canvas and you had painted him with your claws. He ought to have them clipped, Merlin’s beard.

The scratches were mostly up and down (go figure), but there were are couple that ran horizontally which Theo couldn’t place the origin of. You had torn him apart, you freak.

And that’s when you stormed into the locker room. Pucey had squealed, that was the first sign that you had entered. The second was the smart-ass warning that escaped Draco’s mouth ( “Look what the cat dragged in… or maybe she herself is the cat,” he said.

“She is the cat’s mother,” you responded, annoyed, and kicked him in the shin.

“My point still stands,” he laughed painfully).

Your hands were covering your eyes so as to not expose yourself to the privates of the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, and Theo thought you looked like a total dork in the cutest way. A pout had settled on your lips to make up for the fact that your frown was also hidden behind your hands.

“Theodore Nott!” You huffed and the locker room broke out into a chorus of ‘ooh’s, “Shut up, all of you — Theodore, look at what you’ve done to my neck.”

“I can’t really see behind your hands, lovey,” said Theo and you swore you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Use your imagination then, I’m sure you remember what you did to me last night — Oh, aren’t you all so mature,” you hissed as the boys erupted into laughter like little children.

You felt Theo’s hands settle on your hipbones as if they were arm rests. He pulled you in until your nose hit his chest and removed your hands from your face. So safe you were in his presence that you couldn’t see any of the other boys around you. With his big eyes that were more ocean-coloured than sky, he stared down at you, and flashed his brilliantly white grin.

“You aren’t much better, you know?” He said with a tone of question in his voice and continued to talk when he realised you didn’t know what he was talking about, “My back?”

He turned for you and upon seeing the mess you had evidently made on his back, you shut your mouth.

“Even?” Asked Theo.

“Even,” you nodded.

[smileysuh]

dark protector

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”

tw/cw. mentions of past relationship abuse/trauma/cheating, alcohol, bar fights, Cheol gets grazed with a knife, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, blow job, pussy eating, fingering, pleasure dom!Cheol, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, size kink/manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, groping, Cheol is a big muscled tattooed man, creampie, birthday sex, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k

🍭 aus. tattoo/motorcycle au, nurse!reader, soulmates, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  The tarot deck used in the prologue is ‘The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Guide Deck’ by Kim Krans. I had so much fun exploring a more spiritual-themed plot, the idea of soulmates and spirit guides and such :)

Prologue

It’s been six months since your breakup. Six months of self-work and healing practices. Six months of connecting with your spirit guides, hoping you can work through this dark period of your life and come out the other side.

You’ve just gotten off a long shift at the hospital, where you work as an emergency room nurse. Cleaning up other people’s messes makes you feel a little more whole every day, it shows you that while your wounds might be deeper than the skin, you have the resources to fix things that seem unfixable.

After a shower, you slump onto your couch, your hands reaching for one of your tarot decks. It’s as if you can feel the energy radiating off your spirit animal cards, and you remove them carefully from the box, holding them close to your chest.

“Spirit,” you say softly. “I think I’m finally ready to try dating again. But I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll end up in the same situation as last time, finding a man who needs to be fixed- I know my pattern is finding broken men, and I’m done with that. I need guidance. I need some sort of sign that will show up when I meet the right person.”

Part of your healing journey was writing down what traits you’d want in a partner. You’d made a list that included, ‘kind, smart, patient, stable, loyal, and protective,’ and you’d folded to your own physical tastes by writing ‘tattoos’ as well. You can’t help it, you like the way art looks on skin, and although all the tatted bad boys you’ve dated in the past have been assholes, you’re holding onto a hope that you can find a good man with tattoos. You know they’re out there, you just have to find one.

“Spirit, can you help me pull a card, and whatever animal is on that card could be a tattoo that my future significant other would have?” you ask. “Please don’t choose a lion or a wolf or something super common- I want an animal that is a little more unique, something that couldn’t just be coincidence… but, I mean, if my soulmate is meant to have a wolf then I guess I can make that work.”

You hate questioning your guides, hate putting boundaries on them. If your soulmate has a stupid, overdone tattoo like every other man with ink, then so be it.

Taking a deep breath, you begin to shuffle your spirit animal deck. 

You’re not being too fast with your shuffle, you prefer to sit for a long time and wait for cards to pop out rather than force a reading with erratic motions. Focusing on your breathing, and your ask from the spirit, you wait patiently.

Soon, a card pops out, landing on the coffee table in front of you.

An Elk looks up at you, and you take a moment to assess the card before finding the guide book.

You flip to the Earth section, finding the Elk easily. There are a few keywords at the top of the reading, they say ‘Stable, resilient, headstrong, the father.’

Stable is a word you’d written into your boyfriend manifestation notes, and you consider that for a moment before reading further. 

“The great Elk represents the Earth element in its masculine form. This means it provides underlying support and stability amidst life’s many changes. An Elk personality is fully established in themselves and knows their core values. They become known and respected for acting in ways that uphold those values. Sometimes the Elk’s ego can become inflated, but for the most part, they make damn good fathers, mothers, lovers, and friends. The world needs more elk energy.”

You think about the type of man who could be stable, whether that’s financially or emotionally. You’re hoping to find a man as set and in love with his job as you are- the kind of man you could build a future with. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about kids, and the note that Elk personalities make good fathers and lovers makes the feeling of hope stir within you.

However, the Elk - like the Lion and the Wolf -  is a pretty common tattoo. 

“I’m wondering if I should ask for a second card,” you tell your guides. “This deck has numerous animals connected to zodiac signs. Fish for Pisces, Scorpion for Scorpio… I know not all zodiacs have an animal correlated to them, so I won’t use this as a defining factor, but… maybe to make things even a little more specific, could you help me pull a card to represent the zodiac sign for my future Elk tattooed boyfriend?” 

This feels like a lot. And you’re aware that there are only a few cards in this large deck that will actually connect to the zodiac, so you prepare yourself for a dud card.

You begin to shuffle, and this time, a card pops out even faster than the first. It’s face down on your coffee table, and you take a breath, willing this to be a sign.

When you flip the card, you find a lion staring up at you.

The lion is correlated with the Leo zodiac, and you swallow thickly, thinking about the traits generally connected to Leos. The words that come to mind are ‘confident, loyal, ambitious, and protective,’ two of which are traits you’d manifested.

You find your guidebook again, reading the top line of traits: “Patient, regal, a complete master.”

“The Lion is a master of the fire element and the living mascot of self-transformation. A lion personality dedicates their life to personal and spiritual growth. This dedication inspires some and intimidates others, therefore the Lion is respected by all but known intimately by few. Some mistake the Lion as hard to access or aloof, yet those with a keener eye know better. Lions are observant, stealth, and precise in their words and actions. They do not waste energy or resources. This card reminds us that self-mastery is available to all, no matter where our quest begins.”

You consider your reading as you put your deck away and head to bed. A Leo man with an Elk tattoo, someone who is patient, stable, headstrong, loyal, and maybe a little egotistical, but hopefully not in any ways that would be damaging to you like your narcissist of an ex-boyfriend.

You’re prepared to not find a man who fits this bill, but you feel a little better about narrowing down the traits you’re attracted to. Some people don’t believe in tarot, and while you can understand that, this reading has spoken to you in a way that you can’t quite explain.

There’s no timeline to the reading, and you won’t be restricting yourself waiting for a man with an Elk tattoo to sweep you off your feet, but it feels a little easier having some parameters. 

When you fall asleep, you dream of a large man standing in shadows, Elk-like antlers protruding from his head. 

One:

“Tell me again how you found out about this place?” you sigh, getting out of your best friend’s car to stare at the tattoo studio.

“God, I’ve told you a hundred times,” Sunmin rolls her eyes. “One of my sister’s boyfriend’s cousins’s boyfriends work here.”

“I’m going to need you to say that slower.”

“My sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, his cousin is dating one of the artists here, and he says they’re all super hot. And I figured, since your tarot cards told you a few months ago that you’ll find some dude with an elk, a tattoo shop is a good place to look for him.”

“Okay, but please don’t bring up the actual tarot,” you plead. “People judge me for that shit all the time.”

“My lips are sealed but my eyes will be wide open,” she grins.

The two of you enter the tattoo shop, and the air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from the hot summer outside. Your friend chats with the receptionist about her consultation with an artist named Vernon, and soon the two of you are being escorted deeper into the studio.

It’s an open plan layout, with small sections for each artist. Only one man is currently tattooing someone, and you suppose that since it’s the morning, they likely get busier as the day goes on.

There’s a large man who approaches you and your friend as you sit in Vernon’s section. “Hi! You must be Vernon’s ten o’clock consultation! I’m Mingyu. Vernon’s just chatting with our boss in the back, but he’ll be out pretty quick.”

“Hi, I’m Sunmin and this is y/n,” your friend introduces you. “We have no problem waiting.”

“Cool. I don’t have a client for a while, I can keep you guys company while you wait for Vernon if you’d like.”

“We’d love that,” Sunmin beams. 

“How did you guys hear about us?” Mingyu asks, taking a seat on the tattoo artist chair.

“My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin is dating one of the guys who work here,” Sunmin explains.

“Is your sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan?” 

You’re shocked the man was able to follow what Sunmin just said.

“Yup! That’s him!” Sunmin confirms.

“Love that guy,” Mingyu grins. “Yeah, I’m dating his cousin. He told me he’d tell others about the shop but I didn’t think he’d actually follow through with it.”

“Well, here he is, following through,” Sunmin laughs. 

“So is this tattoo consult for you?”

Sunmin nods. “Yup! I’ve always liked ink, got a few small pieces, but I wanted something bigger for my thigh.” 

“How about you?” Mingyu asks. “Any future tattoo plans?”

“Not at the moment,” you respond, gaze shifting to a door that leads to the office in the back. Two men have come out, they’re both quite handsome, dressed in oversized hoodies that obscure any ink on their torsos. 

“I’ve actually been looking at elk tattoos,” Sunmin lies, “know anyone with anything like that?”

Mingyu opens his mouth to respond, but one of the men from the back is already approaching. “Hi, are you Sunmin?” he asks.

“That’s me,” your best friend beams.

“I’m Vernon,” the soft looking man smiles. Mingyu gets out of his seat, bidding a quick farewell before going back to his own section. As Vernon and Sunmin begin to talk about her tattoo plans, you find your eyes shifting to the man who must be the boss as he walks over to inspect the tattoo taking place.

He’s got a nice build, and you can see the outline of strong shoulders even from under his large black hoodie. He rolls up the sleeves, and you can see he’s heavily inked, but from a distance, you can’t make out any elk-like marks. 

Sunmin had done her best to try to ask Mingyu about a tattoo fitting what your tarot had told you to watch out for, but you suppose you shouldn’t be shocked that your soulmate isn’t in the first shop you’ve gone into. 

You relax against your chair, listening to Sunmin and Vernon talk.

You’ll do your best to find your Elk inked Leo, but you suppose you can’t rush the process.

Two: 

You’re at a bar with friends when you hear a commotion just outside. As the designated driver of the night, you haven’t touched any drinks, and although it might not be anything serious, your emergency room nurse instincts kick in, drawing you to the possible danger as you quickly make your way to the front of the bar.

You catch the tail end of what’s happening, one bouncer chasing after some guy who’s booking it down the street, and another man being held back by a second security guard. 

The man being held back looks enraged, and he manages to break out of the bouncers grasp- which is when you see blood on the back of his white shirt.

“Fuck that guy,” the injured man snarles, and when he turns, you catch a glimpse of his profile.

It’s the man from the tattoo parlour, the one you assumed was the boss.

While he looks extremely pissed off, you can’t help but approach. “Excuse me,” you say quietly, grabbing his attention. “You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” He looks over his shoulder, grabbing at his shirt where the blood is. “Fuck, he must have grazed me.”

Must have grazed him… with a knife?

“I’m uh… I’m an ER nurse, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask.

“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” the bouncer tells you, darting back into the bar.

“I’m fine,” the tattooed man tells you.

“Then there’s no harm in me taking a look to confirm that.” You try to smile softly at him.

The man looks at you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“I think I was at your parlour last week, my friend had a consult,” you explain. “I’m y/n.”

He looks you up and down. “Seungcheol.”

You can see the anger and tension dissipating from his shoulders. 

“Why don’t you take a seat on the curb and I’ll look at your shoulder?” you suggest.

Seungcheol sighs, but does as he’s told. He sits down, grabbing at the back of his shirt. You catch him wince as he tugs the bloodied fabric off, and you’re shocked at what’s revealed.

It’s not the slight gash that makes you take a step back, it’s the Elk head tattoo on the center of his spine, with large antlers tangling up toward the back of his neck.

“Is it that bad?’ Seungcheol asks, looking over his shoulder at you again.

“No, it’s not that.” You do your best to compose yourself, kneeling down to look at the wound, although your eyes keep going back to the Elk. 

The bouncer returns with the first aid kit, and Seungcheol sits there quietly while you clean the wound. “You’re right that it was a graze, but I still think stitches would be a good idea,” you tell him.

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Seungheol responds while you press gauze to the wound, bandaging him up with medical tape. 

“Why not?”

“I just don’t like hospitals,” the beefy tattooed man says simply.

You release a sigh. “Listen, I’m going to give you my number, and if there’s any sign of infection, call me, okay?”

“You said you're an emergency room nurse, right?” he asks, standing up when you finish with his shoulder.

“Uh huh.” Words evade you as you look at his chiseled chest, and you do your best not to be too obvious at the way you’re gawking at him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did to piss off the dude with the knife?”

“It’s not important,” you respond quickly. “You identified it as a knife wound, and that’s all I needed to know.”

“I was in the emergency room one time, got stabbed by some kid outside a strip club, the nurses kept pestering me about the details. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like hospitals,” Seungcheol explains.

“Well, your business is your business,” you tell him. “All I care about is that your wound doesn’t get infected, and you take care of it if you’re not getting stitches.”

Seungcheol’s gaze feels hot as he stares at you, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Here. For your number.”

Your fingers are shaky as you type in your digits before handing it back to him, and you can’t help but notice the way your hands briefly touch.

“I need a drink,” Seungcheol says. “You coming back inside? I’ll buy you something, as a thank you for not pestering me.”

“No thanks is necessary,” you try to assure him, but Seungcheol is already reaching for your hand.

“Don’t fight this,” he tells you. “Let me say thank you in the way that I know how.”

You allow the big burly man to guide you back into the bar. He orders himself a shot of tequila, then turns to you expectantly.

“Uh, can I get an iced tea?” you ask.

“Not drinking?”

“I’m the designated driver tonight,” you explain. “My friends are over there-” you turn and catch your whole table of friends staring at you. 

Seungcheol follows your gaze and smirks, offering your friends a small wave. “Okay, so you're a stay in your lane ER nurse, and you’re a designated driver.”

“That sums it up I guess,” you laugh.

“She’ll get an iced tea,” Seungcheol tells the bartender.

You like that he’s not pushing you. Some people pressure you to drink when you’re out, but you like to have your head screwed on straight on your shoulders. You never know when an emergency is going to happen, and your soul calling is helping people. On top of that, it’s nearly midnight, and you’ve got a shift in five hours that you need to be sober for.

“I’m trying to find red flags with you, you know?” Seungcheol says nonchalantly. “But so far, I’m not seeing any.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t have any?” you suggest.

“I’ve been told I’m a walking red flag,” Seungcheol muses. 

“Tattoos can be deceiving,” you point out, although, studies do show that people with trauma are more likely to be inked- all your ex’s have had tattoos, and they’ve all had dark pasts. You can’t help you type, and staring at the man with the elk on his back, you wonder if this is going to be just another repetition. 

Your drinks are set in front of you and you watch Seungcheol down his tequila shot. He shakes his head out a little at the taste, and you appreciate the way his dark curls look with the motion. 

“Anyways, you’re here with friends, I won’t keep you,” he sighs.

“Thanks for the iced tea,” you smile softly.

“Don’t mention it,” Seungcheol nods.

You mirror the movement, grabbing your drink and heading back to your table.

The moment you’re seated, all your friends erupt into chatter.

“Who was that?!” one asks.

“He was hot!” another friend notes.

“Wasn’t that the dude from the tattoo shop?” Sunmin questions, looking after Seungcheol. “Is he… bleeding?”

“Yeah, it’s the guy from the parlour,” you sigh. “His name is Seungcheol, and yes, someone tried to stab him outside.”

“Jesus!” Sunmin’s eyes widen. “But… he bought you a drink?”

“I just cleaned the wound and bandaged it,” you explain. “He insisted on getting me a drink.”

“Well… that’s nice, isn’t it?” one of your friends says thoughtfully.

“I guess.” It’s clear you don’t want to talk about this further, and your friends quickly go back to discussing something else, but you inch closer to Sunmin. “He has a tattoo.”

“He has a lot of tattoos,” she laughs.

“No, he has like… this big elk head and antlers on his back.”

“What?!” 

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warn her, not wanting her to raise her voice too loud so your other friends hear. You’re quite private about your spiritual leanings. Being a woman of science, and ER nurse no less, sometimes it feels like believing in fate isn’t something that works well with your job.

“We’re talking about this later,” Sunmin tells you.

“Yeah.”

You sit back, thinking about it.

Obviously your interaction with Seungcheol was short. He came off as a bit of a hot head, perhaps you’d even use the word brash- there was certainly a level of ego that radiated off of him as well, but, at the same time, he’s one of the most handsome tattooed men you’ve ever met.

You’d asked your guides for a sign, and tonight, the Elk had bared its antlered head.

Now it’s up to you to decide if you trust in fate, or if this is all just a coincidence. 

Three:

You’re about seven hours into your eight hour shift. Having started at five am, after being a designated driver and getting your friends home at three, you’re quite tired. Things were very busy for a while in the emergency room, but for whatever reason now that it’s noon, things have seemed to calm down a little.

You’re just sitting in the nurse station with your coworker Joshua when your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s an unknown number, and at first, you’re not sure if you should answer it.

Against your better judgement, you bring your phone to your ear, “Hello?”

“Is this the stay in your lane ER nurse who’s also the designated driver?”

You let out a sigh. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, you.”

“Hi, Seungcheol.”

“Hi. So, I tried to stitch up the wound when I got home, and I’m not sure if I did a good job.”

“You tried to stitch it up?” you ask, already exasperated. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it at the bar?”

“I just didn’t,” he says simply.

“Send me a pic of the stitches,” you instruct.

“One sec.”

You wait patiently, and Joshua catches your eyes. ‘What’s happening?’ he mouths.

You quickly mute your call. “Some guy I helped at the bar last night got grazed by a knife, he didn’t want stitches, but decided to try to stitch himself up this morning.”

“What the fuck?” Joshua laughs.

“Okay, sent.” Seungcheol’s voice makes you hit the unmute button, and you open your messages to see the picture.

Joshua rolls closer, staring at your phone. While Seungcheol’s broad muscular back is a bit of a distraction, the stitch up job on the wound is sloppy, and draws most of your attention.

“Seungcheol,” you sigh. “I’m going to say this in the nicest possible way. You might be a tattoo artist, but your stitching skills are sub par at best.”

The line is quiet for a moment, then you hear a chuckle. “Someone’s in a grouchy mood.”

Joshua’s eyes widen, and he looks at you for your response. 

“You would be too if you spent all yesterday sleeping, woke up to be a designated driver for your friends, got home at three and had to be at work for five.”

“Oh… are you at work now?”

“Uh huh.”

“I shouldn’t bother you then,” Seungcheol says quickly.

“It’s no bother,” you assure him. “Look, I’m off in an hour. I’ll swing by to your shop to check out the stitching. Most stitches should be sewn within six to eight hours, we’re bordering on twelve- I just want to make sure there’s no infection.”

“You should just go home after work.”

“You should listen to your ER nurse and let her help you,” you retort, too tired to argue with him over this.

Seungcheol makes a groaning sound. “Fine.”

“See you in an hour.”

You hang up the phone and Joshua looks you up and down. “What’s his deal?”

“Honestly,” you sigh, “I couldn’t tell ya.”

Four:

You and Joshua often have the same shifts, and you carpool together to feel more green, so it’s Joshua who drives you to the tattoo parlour when you’re done work.

Seungcheol is waiting outside, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he eyes Joshua as the both of you get out of the car. 

“Hey,” Seungcheol says as you approach, “who’s this?”

“My coworker, Joshua,” you introduce them, and Joshua has the decency to hold out a hand.

You hold your breath, releasing it when Seungcheol gives him a customary curt handshake.

“He’s your ride?” Seungcheol asks.

“Uh huh, is that a problem?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable having him around while you check out my shoulder, even if he does work with you” Seungcheol explains. “Listen, I’ve got a motorcycle and an extra helmet in the shop, how about I take you home after this?”

Both men look at you, and for a moment, you feel flustered and put on the spot.

You’ve never been on a bike before- but fuck it, you’re too tired to work through Seungcheol’s weird alpha behavior and territorial mentality about you having a male coworker with you.

“That works,” you agree. “Thanks for the ride, Josh.”

“Text me when you’re home,” he warns, pulling you in for a hug.

You can practically feel Seungcheol staring daggers at the two of you when Joshua pulls away and heads back to his car.

Seungcheol’s demeanor is a bit icy as he leads you into the shop. You notice Vernon and Mingyu. Mingyu even says a loud “Hi, y/n!” and you nod politely as Seungcheol takes you into the back office, closing the door.

“So, is that dude your boyfriend?” he asks, heading to the first aid kit already open on his desk.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone right now. My last ex, uh… he did a number on me.” 

“Yeah?” Seungcheol takes off his shirt while you grab medical gloves to pull on. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m not sure what there is to say,” you admit with a sad laugh.

“Then you don’t have to say anything,” he decides.

“How about you?” you ask, softly prompting him to turn away from you on his spinny chair so you can assess the wound, gently removing the gauze. 

“What about me?” he counters.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Nope.” He’s quiet for a moment. “My ex was a bit of a shit show too.”

“Well I guess we’re kindred in that at least,” you smile, leaning close to get a better look at his shoulder. 

Seungcheol shivers slightly, and you think your breath on his throat must have set him off a little, but he stays silent. You notice his hands balling into fists on his thighs.

“I think your stitching can stay, but I’m going to clean your wound again and rebandage it.”

“Sounds good,” Seungcheol responds gruffly.

“While I’m doing this, do you mind if I ask about your tattoo? This big Elk?” You gently graze your surgical gloved pinky finger down his spine, and Seungcheol shivers again.

“Jesus, don’t do that,” he snaps.

“Sorry. It’s a pretty tattoo, I couldn’t help myself.” Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and you notice Seungcheol’s ears turning red too.

“I uh,” he swallows thickly. “My grandma was a tarot reader. She was always doing these readings, very connected to the Earth and shit. She used to tell me I had an Elk soul, like her. Something about spiritual guidance, protection, kindred souls or some shit. I’m not super into that stuff, but when she died, I kept having these stupid Elk dreams. Sort of felt like she was trying to communicate with me- if you believe in that sort of thing. Anyways, I figured if I got the tattoo, I’d feel closer to her, like she has my back.”

This is not the tattoo explanation you’d ever considered would come from a man like Seungcheol, and it takes you a few moments to register it and decide on a response.

“It sounds like you were very close with your grandma, I’m sorry that she passed.”

“It’s okay,” Seungcheol shrugs it off. “Shit happens.”

And just like that, he’s closing up again.

You wonder if you should tell him about your tarot connections, but you don’t want to sound like some crazy chick if you mention your spirit guides pointing you toward an Elk. Instead, you bite your tongue as you finish up his wound. 

“All done,” you announce.

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything as he stands up and puts on his shirt. “What’s your address?” he asks, pulling out his phone.

You show him on the maps where you live. “Are you sure you want to give me a ride? Don’t you have… clients?”

“I can get you home and be back in time for my next appointment,” he assures you. “Think of this as another way of saying thank you for fixing me up.”

So far, he’s shown two love languages. He’s bought you a drink, and now he’s doing an act of service. He’d seemed hesitant on touch today, unlike last night when he’d been drinking, and you wonder what his history in relationships is like.

It sounds like you’ve both had shitty past experiences.

You just want to figure him out.

“Have you been on a bike before?” Seungcheol asks, grabbing a small black fullface helmet off a shelf of motorcycle memorabilia. 

“No.”

“Are you scared?”

“More tired than anything else,” you admit with a laugh.

“Well, my Harley has a sissy bar, so you’ll be okay.”

You don’t even know what a sissy bar is, but you follow Seungcheol out to his bike anyways. 

“Here, we can put your stuff in my saddlebag,” he explains, opening a large additional compartment near the back tire of his bike. “I don’t always ride with these, but for whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have them on today.”

He helps you put your work bag in his bike, and then, he helps you with your helmet, his fingers delicately grazing your throat as he tightens the strap there.

“If anything is wrong, just tap my thigh,” he tells you, swinging a leg over his bike and starting the engine.

Even with layers of protection over your ears from the helmet, his Harley is loud. It purrs, like a lion, and you stand in a daze for a moment before he makes a motion for you to hop on. 

You’re careful of his injured shoulder as you slowly get on the bike, adjusting yourself on the seat. 

Seungcheol reaches for your hand, settling it on his hip. He opens his visor. “Ready?”

You nod.

He nods back, and the bike roars to life. He pulls out of the parking spot, and you hold on tighter, thankful for the additional padding of a safety bar behind your back- is this the sissy bar he was talking about? 

You can’t dwell on motorcycle terms as Seungcheol gets onto the street, the bike moving even faster. The feeling of summer air is hot but pleasant on your skin as you ride between cars. You get the sneaking suspicion that Seungcheol is holding back on his driving-

You could imagine him weaving between vehicles and being a general menace on his bike, but with you on the back, he’s trying his best to be a gentleman.

You’re shocked at the trust you already have in this man. A man who a little over twelve hours ago, was a stranger.

You’ve never considered yourself an adrenaline junkie, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, everything else slips away.

You’re at your home before you know it, and you almost feel sad when Seungcheol pulls up to the curb. He motions for you to get off, and he joins you on the sidewalk a moment later, quickly helping you with your helmet.

“How was it?” he asks.

“That was super fun,” you tell him, beaming.

Seungcheol grins when he sees the expression on your face. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

“Listen, keep the helmet for now,” Seungcheol says. “I have your number and I know where you live, so I’ll come back for it.”

You feel your expression drop, and Seungcheol cocks his head to the side, concern written on his face.

“You good?”

“I just-” you swallow thickly. “Sorry, my uh- my ex used to say that to me. That he knew where I lived when I broke up with him. It felt like a threat, and it’s one of the reasons I had to move a couple of months ago.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “Fuck that guy.”

You nod. “Fuck that guy.”

Five:

You’ve had Seungcheol stuck in your head. After he’d dropped you off, it had been hard to sleep, your mind preoccupied with his answer about his tattoo. When you’d finally woken up hours later, you hadn’t been able to help yourself, you’d pulled out your tarot deck.

“Spirit,” you’d breathed. “I think I may have met him. The Elk. And even though you’ve given me the sign with his tattoo, I feel like I need more confirmation. I’m going to shuffle, and if this is meant for me, can you please give me a love card?”

There are numerous cards within the deck that talk about relationships, partnerships and new beginnings, and you’re hoping that one pops out.

You begin to shuffle, closing your eyes and taking it easy.

It’s about a minute before a card pops out. It’s upside down on your coffee table. 

You take a deep breath, slowly reaching out to flip the card.

The Two of Cups stares up at you, and you don’t even have to open your tarot guide book to know what that means. It’s a card of unity, of partnership. Other than the Lovers, it’s one of the most clear relationship cards you can get. 

You stare at it for a long while. The Elk may have been a coincidence. The fact that his own late grandmother had been a tarot reader may have been a coincidence. But pulling the Two of Cups, out of any other card, when seaking confirmation- this feels like fate. 

Part of you wants to be extra sure and ask for the lovers card, but you also think this might be a good time to trust your spirit team. They’ve guided you twice now, and maybe you have to look inward.

Why are you so cautious that Seungcheol might be the one?

Are you ready for a new relationship?

You’d thought you were ready- and here you are, meeting a man who fits your type-

Maybe it’s the fact that he is your type that you’re worried. What if he turns out to be a dickhead like the last ones? You’re still holding onto a lot of fear. You want to protect yourself, which you validate as a legitimate concern.

But… are you going to spend the rest of your life frightened?

Or are you going to try to let go of those fears and learn to trust again, even if it ends up biting you in the ass?

The possible risk is heartbreak, but the possible reward is endless happiness.

Fate can only do so much, this is the part where your own actions will dictate the future.

Six:

“So, how’s that dude with the tattoos doing?” Joshua asks, taking a seat next to you in the nursing station when things have finally calmed down.

“Cheol? I uh… haven’t talked to him since he dropped me off at my place two days ago.”

“Is that good or bad?” 

You shrug. “I’m not sure. We’re both busy people. I work here, and he owns a tattoo shop.”

“I guess that’s true,” Joshua nods. “Maybe you should call him and see how he’s doing?”

You quirk a brow at your friend. “What’s your angle here?”

Now it’s Joshua’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “No angle. I think, as your friend, sometimes it’s important to give you a little push. After all, your tarot said he’s your soulmate.”

Joshua’s one of your only coworkers who you’ve felt comfortable opening up to. He knows about all your spiritual inklings, and you’d filled him in on your whole Elk, Leo, Two of Cups fiasco yesterday. 

“Fine, I’ll give him a quick call,” you sigh. “Strictly as a nurse who wants to see how the wound is doing.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Joshua grins.

You roll your eyes at him, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Seungcheol answers on the second ring. “Hey.”

“Hi, how are you doing?” you ask, putting him on speaker phone. Joshua might be encouraging you to do this as a friend, but you know better than anyone that he also loves some good tea.

“Doing okay.”

“And your shoulder?”

“Good as far as I know… why? You worried about me?” You can hear the grin in his voice, the fact that he’s loving the concern you have for him. “I’ve had worse, you know.”

“I’d just hate for it to get infected,” you sigh.

“Look, if you want to do your due diligence as a nurse and everything, how about you get drinks with me and assess it yourself?” he suggests.

Joshua grabs your thigh, eyes widening, waiting on what you’ll say next.

“We could do that,” you respond.

“Sounds good, when are you free?”

“I’m off tomorrow.”

“How do you feel about eight o’clock?” 

“That works,” you nod.

“I’ll pick you up at eight then, and bring your helmet.”

You find yourself smiling. “Will do.”

“It’s a date. See you then.”

“Bye, Cheol.”

Your heart is racing as you hang up the phone, and Joshua immediately repeats Seungcheol’s words, “It’s a date.” 

“It’s a date,” you respond, jittery at the idea.

“Some guys are assholes and say ‘let’s hang out,’ but this one says ‘it’s a date.’”

“That’s a good sign,” you insist.

“A very good sign,” Joshua agrees. “If this dude ends up being the one, I might just have to get into tarot.”

Seven:

You’re surprised to find yourself playing nighttime mini golf with Seungcheol on your date. “What happened to drinks?” you ask as he pays for your tickets and grabs your clubs from the attendant.

He shrugs. “Figured you’re a nurse so you might not wanna get on my motorcycle after I had a few drinks, also the fact that you were designated driver last time I saw you at a bar- I thought this might be more your style. But, I’ll warn you, I’m not going to go easy on ya.”

You laugh, pleasantly surprised at how astute this man can be. “I think this will be fun.”

“Me too.”

Seungcheol’s wearing black jeans and a charcoal v-neck that shows off his strong shoulders. He’s the epitome of your type: a bad boy with tattoos. Yet, when you begin to play, he’s shockingly patient.

“Let me show you how to hold the club,” he suggests on the second hole, waiting for you to nod before he steps behind you and wraps his body around your own. “Feet positioning is key.” He also gently adjusts your hands, and your heart leaps in your chest when he breathes against your throat. “It might take some time to get used to,” Seungcheol warns, “so don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t come naturally.”

You hit the golf ball, and it goes a lot closer to the hole than your first shot had.

“Did it take a while for you to get into mini golf?” you ask.

“Nah, I was always a natural,” he teases, flashing you a wink before he takes his own shot.

You admire the way his shoulders look with his back to you. “So what got you into being a tattoo artist? Into having your own place?” 

“Well, my grandma passed, and she left me a pretty big inheritance. She always thought I could succeed as a tattoo artist, but before that I was stuck doing blue collar type shit. I think, the money was her final way of telling me to follow my dreams. I’m kind of obsessed with ink, if you haven’t noticed.” He holds out his arms, which are littered with patchwork. “How about you? How does someone get into being an emergency room nurse?”

“I just like helping people,” you explain. “When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I’d always been scared of hospitals, but the nurse who helped me in emergency was an angel. She made it less scary, and when it was over, I realized I wanted to be just like her. When people come into the emergency room, it’s never fun. It’s frightening, and cold- and I want to be there for people who are going through that, to be a warm, friendly face.”

“My grandma had a light worker's soul too,” Seungcheol nods. “That’s what she always called it anyways. She wasn’t ever officially trained, but in her later years she got into herbal medicine. Anytime I was sick it was lemon and garlic chicken noodle soup with bone broths and the works- always made me feel a lot better.”

“She sounds like she was an amazing woman.”

“She was,” Seungcheol agrees. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think she would have liked you.”

You grin. “Is that an important trait you look for when taking girls to mini golf?” 

Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “It should be. My last ex wouldn’t have fit the bill, and at the time, I thought that was okay, but it didn’t end well.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll talk about mine if you talk about yours,” he suggests. “You said your last boyfriend was a creep when you broke up, threatened to come to your place and shit, he sounds like a piece of work.”

“He was,” you sigh. “I’ve got this thing for big tattooed men, bad boy types. It always leads to me getting my heart broken. He would tell me I was the one and everything, but I found out he was cheating on me with some waitress at the bar he used to go to all the time.”

“So what I’m hearing is… I’m your type.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m sorry to hear that. Cheaters are the fucking worst.”

“Sounds like you’ve experienced something like that too.” 

“Looks like both of our ex’s were cheating fucks,” Seungcheol says. “I know it’s a red flag to talk shit about your ex or whatever, but some ex’s deserved to be talked bad about.”

You nod. “A hundred percent.”

“Did you think you were going to be with your last one forever?” Seungcheol asks after a moment.

“I thought so.”

“Me too with mine, I was just about ready to get her a ring.” He frowns, looking down at his golf ball. With a sigh, he easily knocks it into the hole. “Well, this is just the way life happens I guess.”

It’s clear you both have very similar wounds. You’re shocked at how easy it is to talk about this with Seungcheol. Some people say not to talk about ex’s on dates with new people, but this almost feels therapeutic. You understand Seungcheol better, and you’re sure he understands you too.

It’s promising to know he thinks about the future, that he’s ready to settle down, not all men are.

Maybe you’re both in the same boat with all of this, and that’s a hopeful thought.

Eight: 

Seungcheol can’t seem to get you out of his head. 

He’d never thought of himself as a particularly superstitious man. His grandma had been spiritual, and he’d always loved that aspect of her. He’d enjoyed doing tarot readings and making all sorts of elixirs with her in the garden. She’d told him he’d be a successful tattoo artist, she’d seen it in the stars, and while she’d been a big part of making that premonition come true, he wonders what else she might be right about.

Seungcheol’s grandma had always told him he’d end up with a healer like her. A doctor, a psychiatrist, a nurse- she wasn’t very specific, but she’d said his soul would call in a light worker when the time was right.

He feels drawn to you, his little emergency room nurse, designated driver, light worker. 

It’s been such a short amount of time, but there’s something unexplainable about the way he feels.

“You look distracted,” Mingyu muses, coming to join Seungcheol outside the tattoo parlour where he’s puffing on his vape.

“Just thinking.”

“About your birthday party tonight, or that girl you brought through the other day?” Mingyu presses, grinning as he bumps his shoulder against Seungcheol’s. 

Seungcheol can’t help but sigh at his friend’s prying ways. 

“Look you don’t have to tell me anything, but summer is almost over and you need a backpack. My angel has been surrounded by testosterone motorcycle rides for months, and we’d all love another girl to be part of the group. You should invite her out tonight.”

Of course Mingyu’s coming at this from an angle of having a girlfriend. He and Wonwoo are obsessed with their ‘little angel,’ and Mingyu’s always talking about the joys of being in a relationship. It can get somewhat tedious for Seungcheol.

“Don’t you have a client soon?” Seungcheol sighs.

“Point taken, I’ll leave you be,” Mingyu says, patting him on the shoulder. 

As soon as his friend is inside, Seungcheol pulls out his phone. He thinks about what he’s going to say to you, before typing out an easy, “Up to anything tonight?”

He’s shocked by how quick your response is. “It’s Sunmi’s birthday this week so we’re celebrating tonight since it’s Saturday.”

Seungcheol’s mood drops, and a moment later, you’re calling him.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you respond. “How are you doing?”

“Not so bad.” He wants to tell you that it’s his birthday tonight, wants to try to convince you to come, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to guilt you, doesn’t want to mess up your plans. “What’s up?”

“I just… I know we’ve only gone on one actual date, and I only met you a week ago, but… I just want you to know, when I go out tonight, I’m not going to be hitting on anyone or anything.”

He’s taken aback for a moment. “I wasn’t really worried about that.”

“Okay! Good! I just- I know with your ex and everything- and I just, I figured I’d clarify, even though we’ve only been on one date, I’m a one guy at a time kind of girl.”

He respects that you’re so direct about this, and he appreciates your loyalty. You really are a good person. 

“I’m a one girl at a time kind of guy,” Seungcheol says finally. “Glad we’re on the same page about that.”

“Me too.” He can hear your smile, and it makes his heart swell. 

“Anyways, I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight.”

“I will, bye, Cheol.”

Nine:

You’re having a great night. The drinks have been flowing, and you’re having a fun time celebrating Sunmi’s birthday. Things are fuzzy in the best way- until you hear a familiar voice say your name.

You turn to find your ex standing close to you at the bar, and your heart sinks in your chest.

“It’s been a while,” your ex states.

You can’t even find the words to speak, suddenly getting drunk seems like a horrible idea.

You’ve just started to feel safe again, to feel stable- you’d thought being out with your friends, you could let loose, but now your ex is here and your heart is beginning to race.

“Have you been drinking?” your ex asks, coming to stand closer to you at the bar top, where you’d been sipping a gin and tonic. 

“I, uh-” your words catch in your throat, and you swallow thickly. “It’s Sunmin’s birthday.”

Your ex nods, and when you look toward your table, you see Sunmin gaping at you.

Turning away from Sunmi, your ex addresses you. “Is she still a huge bitch?”

“I-” you want to defend your friend, but you feel frozen. You can’t think- you’re completely overwhelmed, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your heart like thunder in your chest.

“We need to talk,” your ex says next. “Come outside with me.”

He grabs your arm, and then a hand wraps around yours. You turn to see Sunmi standing there, glaring at your ex. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she asks.

“Y/N and I need to have a chat outside,” your ex sighs, being very dismissive.

“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Sunmi insists. “Honey, do you want to go with him?”

You quickly shake your head, moving closer to your friend for safety.

“She doesn’t know what she wants,” your ex rolls his eyes, tightening his grip on your arm to the point where it almost hurts.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” Sunmi insists, somehow successfully tugging you away from your ex. 

“Run away, but I’ll be right here to talk to her when you’re done.”

It feels like a blur as Sunmi races you to the woman’s washroom. “Y/N,” she helps you to the sink, looking at your face. “Are you okay?”

“I-”

Sunmi pulls you to her chest, hugging you deeply. “We’re going to sort this out,” she promises.

“How?” You feel like crying. All the emotions come flooding back, the fear, the helplessness-

“We’re going to call Seungcheol.”

“What?” You’re in shock. “We can’t do that!”

“We can, and we will. Men like your ex only respond to other men. We’re calling him. Give me your phone.”

Reluctantly, you hand Sunmi your cell, turning on the sink to splash your arms with cold water.

“Hi, Seungcheol?” There’s a pause. “No, this is Sunmi. I’m out with y/n, we’re at a bar on Elm and fifth street, her ex just showed up- okay, okay, yeah, we’re in the bathroom in the back.”

She hangs up and you look to her for an explanation.

Your friend lets out a sigh. “As soon as I said your ex was here, Seungcheol said to give him five minutes. I’m going to keep you here and he’ll come get us, okay?”

You nod. “I’m sorry to ruin your birthday.”

“Honey, you’re not ruining anything,” she assures you, pulling you in for another hug. 

You hold back tears while you wait with Sunmi, and in no time at all, there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Seungcheol pokes his head in, and you see his expression drop when he sees you.

“What happened?” he growls, coming to join you.

“Her ex was trying to drag her outside-” Sunmi tries to explain.

“He touched you?” Seungcheol asks, anger laced in his words.

You nod, pointing to your forearm. 

“Grabbed is more like it,” Sunmi breathes.

“Okay,” Seungcheol nods. “Okay, I’ll get you out of here. Just hold onto me and we’ll get out of here.”

You nod again, allowing Seungcheol to gently take your hand. He guides you out of the bathroom, and you huddle close to his side as he walks you through the bar- you almost think things will go smoothly when your ex steps in front of you.

“Who’s this, you’re new boyfriend?” he asks, venom dripping from his words.

Seungcheol stops in his tracks. “So you must be the dip shit ex.”

“Say that again, asshole,” your ex growls, eyes narrowing.

“You must be-” Seungcheol broadens his shoulders, “the dip shit ex.”

Your ex releases a laugh, and then he’s taking a swing. It feels slow and fast at the same time, Sunmi tears you away from Seungcheol, who dodges the punch easily, only to land a blow to your ex’s stomach-

“Y/N! Sunmi!” Mingyu’s voice appears out of nowhere, and suddenly two strong arms are wrapping around you and your friend. “Outside!”

Mingyu keeps you close as he gets you and Sunmi out of the bar while a commotion ensues in your wake. Four motorcycles are pulled up on the curb. You recognize Vernon, and there’s another man you’ve never seen before.

“Cheol’s starting shit,” Mingyu tells his friends quickly.

“We heard your ex was here?” Vernon offers, giving you a sympathetic look.

“He threw a swing at Cheol when I got inside,” Mingyu tries to explain. “Y/N, we’re going to get you out of here, Wonwoo pass me the spare helmet from the saddlebag.”

“What about Seungcheol?” you ask, watching the men fuss.

“He can take care of himself,” Mingyu assures you, helping you put on the helmet.

“Cheol will meet us at our place,” the new man, Wonwoo, says. “When he gets hot like this, he doesn’t drive very safely.”

“Trust us,” Mingyu pleads. “We just gotta get you out of here, your ex made the first swing, and nothing good can come from this now.”

You turn to Sunmi and she squeezes your hand. “It’s okay, get out of here. I’ll text you what happens.”

You can’t even think as Mingyu gets onto his bike and you awkwardly take the seat behind him. You can’t comprehend how things happened the way they did- how fast the altercation had been before your ex had taken a go at Seungcheol.

As you leave the bar, heart thundering in your chest, it’s the most you can do to try to slow your breathing, your body still carrying the trauma that you’d endured with your ex, the wound you’d thought was healed now torn open.

Ten:

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as Mingyu covers you with a large fluffy blanket on his couch. “I mean- you just said your girlfriend is four months pregnant and sleeping in the other room-”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu assures you.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You’d found your ability to speak again once you felt safe and in Mingyu’s apartment, and now, you can’t help the anxiety bubbling inside of you. You feel like a burden- and it’s an all too familiar feeling from your time with your ex.

“You didn’t ruin it, we were almost done anyways,” Wonwoo notes. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Y/N, deep breaths,” Mingyu tells you, sitting on the couch next to you, offering your calf a reassuring squeeze.

“Is Cheol going to be okay?” you ask.

“He’s going to be fine, that man has never lost a fight,” Mingyu explains, smiling softly.

In the distance, you hear an engine revving, and Wonwoo sighs. “There he is.”

Not even five minutes later, Seungcheol is practically bursting through the door. His eyes find you on the couch, and you’re quick to stand, allowing him to envelop you in a hug. His heart is racing in his chest, he’s clearly panicked, and when he pulls away, he looks down at you with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” he questions, cupping your face as if checking you for injury.

“I’m okay, are you okay?” you retort.

“Just a few bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 

You find yourself laughing, and as you laugh, your eyes well up with tears. Now that he’s here, you finally feel like you can take a deep breath, and he’s quick to tug you back to his chest as you cry.

“I’m going to give you a moment, then I’m going to take you home,” he tells you, hand smoothing up and down your back.

You stay in his arms until you feel a bit better, and when you pull away, Mingyu is offering you a tissue. You clean yourself up, say your goodbyes, then Seungcheol walks you out with the spare helmet in hand.

He doesn’t say anything on the way down, but at the bike, he hands you his fullface. “Want you protected,” he tells you, grabbing the bucket helmet from your grasp.

You nod, putting on the helmet and allowing him to help you fasten it up. 

You’re quiet as you both get onto the bike, and Seungcheol adjusts your hand to his hip, squeezing gently. 

The bike roars to life and you take off.

It’s a different feeling to be on a motorcycle while still a little drunk, and you find yourself throwing your head back to look up at the night sky. 

You’ve seen the stars before, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, it feels like you're experiencing them for the first time. 

You lose track of time doing this, and the ride is done sooner than you’d like when he pulls up to your building. “Come on, baby,” he says softly, helping you take off your helmet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

He holds your hand, helping you with your keys to get into the apartment complex. The elevator ride is quiet, but his hand is a reassuring constant, warm and large wrapped around your own.

He’s never been to your place, and you feel a little self conscious as you open up your door. It’s a modest apartment, one bedroom- there’s really nothing to be insecure about, but you think maybe your anxiety from the bar incident is just making you a little crazy.

“How about you sit down, and I’ll get you some water?” he suggests, helping you to the couch.

You kick off your high heels, curling up on the cushions while Seungcheol putters around your kitchen. He already looks like he belongs here, and for a brief moment, you can forget about your ex.

Seungcheol rejoins you on the couch, handing you the cup. “Here.” 

“Thank you.”

You sip on your water, trying to breathe properly again.

Seungcheol gives you the space to unwind. He doesn’t pester you with questions about the altercation with your ex at the bar, and you’re grateful for it.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks finally.

You shake your head, your eyes dropping to his hands. “You’re hurt though.”

“Just bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 

“There’s blood,” you insist. “I’ll-”

“Tell me where your first aid kit is and I’ll grab it.” 

You direct him to the cupboard in your bathroom, and he returns with it, setting the case onto your coffee table. 

“How’s your shoulder?” you ask as you take out the tools you’ll need.

“Almost better, I heal fast,” he says softly.

It feels good to focus on his wounds rather than your own, and you gently clean the scrapes on his hand. His right fist is pretty badly bruised, and you do your best to treat it. Then you begin to slowly wrap his knuckles, taking your time. Two wraps around his wrist, diagonal across the top to his pinky, under the hand, to the pointer, diagonal- 

It’s a nice repetition of motions, and when you’re all done, you lift his hand to your lips, gently pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “All better.”

You look up at Seungcheol, and he stares back.

Then, he slowly moves in, carefully watching your expression. He stops just an inch from your lips, and you can feel his breath on your face. He’s waiting for you to make the final move, for you to be the one with control.

With one last look at your beautiful, dark protector, you close the distance.

It’s a soft kiss, not the kind of first kiss you’ve ever had before. Seungcheol doesn’t immediately try to dominate you like men in the past have, he lets you set the pace. You lean in closer, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you deepen the kiss. 

Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you, and it’s a somewhat awkward position on the couch like this, so he simply pulls you onto his lap. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, allowing all your anxiety to dissipate while you enjoy the safety Seungcheol provides. 

After a while, Seungcheol pulls away, and you’re both breathing heavily. 

“How… how do your knuckles feel?” you ask.

He laughs, looking down at his hands. “I might black out my fingers when this is all healed,” he admits. “I get into too many barfights. My grandma used to say it was the Leo in me.”

“The Leo in you?” you repeat, heard thumping wildly in your chest.

“Yeah, I uh…” he lets out a soft chuckle, “I didn’t wanna pressure you to come out or anything after I heard you were at a friend’s birthday party, but it’s sort of my birthday today.”

You’re frozen for a moment. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re a Leo,” you say again.

“Uh huh. You’re not about to tell me some weird zodiac rule about our signs not being compatible, are you?”

“No, it’s not that.” You take a deep breath. Just a short time ago, you’d decided not to tell him about the Elk tattoo meaning, and now here you are, about to tell him everything. 

You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the bar situation, or the slight tipsyness, but you think fuck it, if he could tell you about his tarot loving grandmother, you can tell him about this.

“A few months ago, I did a reading,” you begin to explain.

“A tarot reading,” he clarifies.

“Yeah. And I asked my guides to show me a spirit animal card that would be a tattoo on the person I’m supposed to be with. The card came up as an Elk- and before you tell me it’s a very common tattoo, I know it is, which is why I asked for further clarification with them telling me the zodiac of this person too-”

“And they said Leo,” he breathes.

You nod. “Then, when I met you, the Elk lined up, but I still wasn’t sure, so I did another reading on us, and the Two of Cups came out, it’s a love card. So with those two cards, and now the fact that you’re a Leo-”

“Is this your way of telling me you think I’m your soulmate?” Seungcheol grins.

“God, I should have guessed you’re a fucking Leo,” you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be rude,” he tuts, gently pinching your hip. “If it’s any consolation, my grandmother always told me I’d end up with someone in the medical field, and you’re an ER nurse.”

“She really said that?” you ask.

“Uh huh.” Seungcheol’s gaze dips to your lips then back up again. “I wonder if she saw this future.”

Your heart melts. After your last relationship, where the lovebombing came on fast, you’d promised yourself not to get burned by that sort of thing again- but here you are, falling for Seungcheol way quicker than you ever have with anyone else in the past.

Even so, something about this feels so right.

You let out a breath. “One time with the Elk may have been coincidence. Two times with the Two of Cups card was a little odd. But three times with your Leo Zodiac-”

“I guess the question is, do you believe in fate?” Seungcheol moves closer.

“I think you know that I do,” you laugh.

Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your hips, and he doesn’t say anything else as he brings his mouth to yours.

You kiss him eagerly, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chests together. His tongue glides against your own and it feels like magic- there’s a bulge growing in his pants, and you can’t help but begin to grind down against him.

Seungcheol releases a small groan and it’s music to your ears, prompting you to apply more pressure to his cock when you wriggle against him.

With a sigh, Seungcheol pulls away. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’ve been drinking and I don’t want to take advantage tonight-”

“I swear that whole situation with my ex sobered me up,” you admit. “Besides, maybe I want to give you a birthday present.” 

“A birthday present?” he repeats with a chuckle.

You nod. “Cheol, I haven’t even kissed anyone in months- I’m already practically drenched from making out, you won’t make me wait even longer, will you?”

He studies your face, and you can see the moment he folds. “We can do this, but at any point if I think you look drunk, we have to stop. I don’t want you to regret this being our first time.”

“I could never regret this,” you promise, leaning in to press your lips to his throat.

Seungcheol throws his head back, his fingers digging into your hips again. The low moan he releases tells you that he has a sensitive neck, and you enjoy simply teasing him for a minute while you mentally prep yourself for what’s to come next.

You do want to move on, and this is one of those steps.

You’re not afraid of it. You had been frightened about intimacy with someone new, but Seungcheol makes you feel more safe than you’ve ever felt in your life.

You want this. 

You shift a little on Seungcheol’s lap, reaching down to cup his cock with your palm. 

Seungcheol swallows thickly, his hands smoothing up and down your hips. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”

“It’s your birthday,” you point out. “And you took care of me at the bar, I think it’s my turn to show some appreciation.”

He doesn’t argue with you, and you can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He lets out a deep breath. “I know it’s early,” he says, “but… if we do this, I don’t want any confusion. I want you to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

“Honestly? I’ve been yours since practically the moment I saw you take your shirt off so I could clean your shoulder wound.”

Seungcheol releases a chuckle. “Really?”

“Uh huh, you make me fucking feral.”

He lets out a groan of appreciation. “It’s been hard to control myself too. That day at the studio, when you touched my back tattoo- I was so close to breaking. Wanted to throw you onto my desk and make you feel good.”

You imagine what that would have been like, and it makes you moan. “Why didn’t you?”

“I could tell you had a past, and I didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits. “I’ve been… trying to be a good boy.”

Your bad boy trying to be good to make you comfortable. You really hit the jackpot with Seungcheol.

“Cheol, I’ve told you I have a thing for bad boys,” you tease.

“So maybe I should take control right now,” he suggests with a grin.

“Let me suck you off, and then you can take control,” you tell him, pulling away. “I’m going to get on my knees now.”

Seungcheol watches you slip onto the floor infront of him, and your hands find his belt. You try to focus on your task of getting his pants off, but you enjoy sneaking glances at him, seeing his pretty face as he tries to keep composure.

He lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down, and his cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, hard and already leaking.

He’s a decent size, somewhere between six and seven inches, and his cock is as girthy as the rest of him. You lick your lips, grabbing the base so you can adjust him toward your mouth as you lean in.

“No teasing,” Seungcheol warns, voice softening when he says, “please.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Liar,” he laughs, reaching out to stroke your head.

You slip the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue. 

“And that’s the teasing I was talking about,” Seungcheol muses. “Feels good though.”

You sink further down onto him, beginning to suck as you move up and down.

“Fuck, that feels even better,” he groans.

When you were with your ex, blow jobs were an expectation, and because of that, you never really enjoyed them. There’s something powerful about doing this of your own volition, about making the conscious choice to pleasure Seungcheol.

You close your eyes, getting lost in the motion of providing this for him. Hallowing your cheeks, you suck hard when you’re near the tip, and Seungcheol groans loudly, shifting further down on the couch so you’re not bent over him in such an awkward position.

“You’re good at that, baby,” Seungcheol says. “But there’s only one birthday present I’d enjoy more than this.”

You let out a “hmm?” sound, an inquiry.

“When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”

Your pussy throbs at his words, and you increase your speed on his cock, letting out a moan of appreciation. 

“Yeah? You like that?” he asks. “Say the word, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”

You pull off of him, your hand smoothing up from base to tip to pump him while you address your beautiful dark protector. “I just want to make you feel good a little while longer.”

His expression softens. “Making me feel really good.”

You grin, returning to your task. 

Seungcheol’s hand is gentle in your hair. He caresses you while you suck him off, never applying pressure or trying to get you to deep throat him. It’s an ever constant, soft touch, and you’re shocked at how much of a gentleman this heavily tattooed, bar fighting, Leo can be. 

“Baby?” His voice draws you from your thoughts. “I know I said you could say the word and be done, but- this feels too good, and I don’t wanna bust the moment I begin to fuck you.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop, smiling up at him. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He lets out a shaky breath and grins. “Where’s your bedroom, gorgeous?”

“Right there.” You point at the door adjacent to the living room.

“Come on, baby, it’s my turn to take care of you.” He helps you to your feet, pulling his pants back up, and you’re shocked when he throws you over his uninjured shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom while you erupt in a fit of butterfly fueled giggles.

Seungcheol lays you softly onto your bed, staring down at you. He takes in your silky shirt and your dress pants, you like to be more classy when you go out, to keep up with your reputation as a nurse.

The two of you are very different people. He’s black ripped jeans, plain tshirts and tattoos. And you’re classy outfits, scrubs, and a healer’s touch. Somehow, even with these differences, the two of you work. Like Yin and Yang, complementary forces, light and dark.

“Can I take these off for you?” he asks, tugging at your pant leg.

You nod, watching the way he begins to undo your button and zipper. He’s slow with his motions, precise. It’s not a rush to get you naked, it’s an enjoyed exploration, and you love the way his eyes glow when you lift your hips to allow him to pull the fabric off your lower half.

“You’re so pretty,” Seungcheol muses.

“Yeah?”

“That day you were in my shop with your friend, doing a consult with Vernon- I was trying to act like I was watching my newest apprentice work, but… I kept looking at you. And then, outside the bar, when you showed up again-” Seungcheol shakes his head, his hand smoothing along your leg gently. “Baby, you’re going to turn me into a believer.”

“Invisible string theory, perhaps,” you grin.

Seungcheol chuckles. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

He takes off his own shirt, and you watch the way his muscles move under his skin. He’s littered in tattoos, patchwork on his arms and chest. There must be a hundred small to medium sized tattoos, and you want to know the story behind each and every one.

But there’s a time and a place for that, and right now, you’re eager for something else.

Seungcheol gets on top of you, and you immediately thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, pulling his lips to your own.

Your free hand explores his muscular shoulders, careful of the bandage still on his bar wound, and you’re practically tingling with how attracted you are to this man.

He kisses you deeply, cupping your face while his other hand braces him to the bed over top of you.

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, and he grinds against your panty clad core.

The pressure on your clit has you moaning, and Seungcheol responds by kissing down your throat. He licks at your collarbone, and then his hand moves from your cheek to your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asks.

“Uh huh, there’s a tie at the back.”

Seungcheol pulls off of you, and in one motion, he flips you onto your stomach. His warm hand smooths over your shoulder, toying with the tie there.

You hold your breath in anticipation as he begins to undo the corset style back of your slinky top. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck that makes your body erupt in goosebumps. 

You enjoy the way he takes his time with your shirt, and he slowly helps you slip it off. You’re laying flat on his bed, your tits pressed to the comforter, while Seungcheol explores your back with his hands. He traces the curvature of your sides, pressing kisses along your spine. Soft curls tickle your skin, and you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat at how good this feels.

Seungcheol flips you over again, and his gaze dips to your exposed breasts. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, gently groping your chest, his thumb grazing over your nipple. You watch him swallow thickly, and then he’s leaning over, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth while you tangle your fingers in his curls again.

With his mouth on your breast, his free hand slips down your body, and he tugs your panties down just enough for him to access your core.

Two digits rub between your pussy lips and you feel him smile against your nipple. “You weren’t lying about being wet, baby.”

“Would never lie to you,” you breathe out shakily.

“No?” He circles your clit and you moan loudly. 

“Never,” you repeat, pushing your hips up toward his hand, needing more friction.

Seungcheol rewards you by slipping both of his digits into your wet core, pressing his palm to your clit as he begins to finger fuck you. He sucks on your breast while he does this, and you’re lost in the sensations he provides.

“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper when his teeth graze your nipple, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers.

“Wanna make you cum,” Seungcheol says, pulling away from your breast to look down at you.

“Then make me cum,” you respond, nodding at him.

Seungcheol presses one last kiss to your lips and then he shifts down the bed, pulling his fingers from your core. He gets onto his knees at the foot of the mattress, dragging you toward himself and pulling your panties off.

He spreads your thighs. “So pretty,” he muses. “Everything about you is so fucking pretty.”

Your skin heats, it can be hard to take a compliment, but something tells you that Seungcheol will get you used to this kind of praise.

He leans forward, eyes meeting yours as he presses a kiss to your clit. You jolt at the small contact, releasing a shaky breath.

No one has eaten you out in months, and your core is already throbbing with anticipation. 

“Gonna take care of you,” Seungcheol promises, and you know that this promise extends far past the sexual setting you’re in right now.

He moves forward again, capturing your clit in his mouth while his digits easily slip into your pussy again.

You throw your head back, enjoying the sensation of him worshiping your cunt. He’s gentle with his motions at first, kitten licking your sensitive bud. You know he’s getting used to your sounds, figuring out what pressure works, what you enjoy, whether thats sucking, or more gentle stimulus.

“Feels good,” you tell him. “Like the way you crook your fingers.”

He responds by applying more pressure to the ‘come hither’ motion he’s making, and you release a whine at how good it feels.

“Just like that,” you whimper.

He sucks your clit harder too, and you moan louder, hips bucking toward his face.

Seungcheol’s free hand finds your lower abdomen and he pins you to his bed, keeping you still while he works on your pussy.

You can feel your walls clenching around him, and Seungcheol releases a groan of pleasure. It adds to your own feeling of euphoria that clearly he’s enjoying this. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’s usually a giver, and the fact that he doesn’t see this as a chore has you able to enjoy it fully, unlike certain past experiences where men had to be begged into eating you out.

Sex with Seungcheol - even foreplay like this - feels so natural. You’re not as in your head as you usually are, with his nonverbal communications and moans, you can be certain he’s enjoying this as much as you are, and it gives you the confidence to give yourself over completely to the pleasure.

Sex should always be like this, you realize.

There’s no pressure, no worrisome thoughts, it’s just two souls connecting physically in a way that’s mutually beneficial. 

Having not been eaten out in a long time, it’s not surprising that you’re extremely sensitive, and Seungcheol works you all the way to the edge before you can even comprehend what’s happening.

“Cheol-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair, “I’m gonna-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, he sucks harshly on your clit, and your words become moans as your orgasm surges through you.

His hand on your abdomen keeps you steady as he works you through your high, sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking on his broad shoulders.

Seungcheol pulls away, and you open your eyes to watch him wipe the back of his mouth, licking his fingers clean. 

“Still want this?” he asks, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his jeans.

“More than anything,” you smile.

A moment later, Seungcheol is as naked as you are, and he gets between your thighs again, lips returning to your own. He doesn’t immediately slip his cock into you, instead, he grinds against your core, teasing your sensitive clit and driving you wild.

You kiss him eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair and groping his muscular shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him despite the need growing inside of you.

You’re reminded again that there’s no rush.

You can take pleasure in this without feeling like you need to be getting fucked to be worth something.

You’re a hundred percent sure that if you’d told Seungcheol you’re not ready for sex, he would have stopped, cuddled you, and not taken it personally. There’s this feeling that Seungcheol is going to be around for a long time- and as crazy as it is with how short of a time you’ve known him, you know that your connection runs deeper than your physical attraction.

Seungcheol shifts slightly, grabbing at his cock. You bite at your lip while you wait for him to line it up with your core, and you break your kiss, panting. Your eyes meet as he slips the head of his length into your wet hole, and you both groan at the feeling.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, sinking in inch by inch. “You feel so fucking good.” 

“You feel better,” you retort, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his nose.

“Impossible,” he grins, burying his face in your throat as he begins to fuck you.

You claw at his shoulders, crying out with each thrust. He fills you so well- he has probably one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever taken, and the way he stretches you out is like heaven, like he was made to be in your pussy.

The sounds he’s making are unlike any other pleasured noises you’ve ever heard.

Nothing has ever felt this right.

Seungcheol’s uninjured hand finds your own, and he laces your fingers, squeezing you reassuringly as he fucks you harder, his speed increasing.

His lips are hot on your neck, and it feels delightful. You love just laying back and taking everything he’s giving you. He’s so big, like a warm, weighted blanket covering your form.

Your toes are already curling at how deep he’s hitting, and your thighs shake desperately around his hips.

“Cheol-”

“Yes, baby?” he asks.

“You just- fuck, this feels so good-”

“You deserve to feel good,” Seungcheol tells you. “You work so hard for others, I’m lucky I get to be the guy working for you.”

Your heart swells at his words. Past boyfriends’ haven't ever truly appreciated how hard it is to be an emergency room nurse. You spend your whole shift taking care of others, and that high pressure, intense mentality bleeds into your personal life. It's a sweet relief to be the one on the receiving end, to relax and know that you can fully give yourself up to the pleasure and desire you feel, without feeling obligated to return this favour with future sexual gratifications.

Seungcheol’s lips meet your own, and you get lost in him, moaning desperately as he works your pussy open.

His thrusts slow, and he stays completely still inside of you for a moment, then pulls away.

“Can you shift onto your side for me?” he asks. “One leg straight on the bed, the other thigh pulled closer to your chest.”

It’s a position you’ve never tried before, but you trust Seungcheol, and you’re quick to adjust. You lay half on your side, one leg stretched between his knees while you bring your other toward your breasts. 

Seungcheol’s warm hand finds your thigh, and he helps bend you, his free hand guiding his cock to your pussy again.

When he pushes in this time, it feels even deeper, and you let out a squeak at the stimulation.

“You like that?” he asks, hand moving from your thigh to your breast, where he gently pinches your nipple.

“So deep- I feel so full-” you whimper.

Seungcheol only grins, and he’s an absolute vision in this position. He’s practically on his knees, and his chest is all exposed and gorgeous. His tattoos are beautiful as he massages your breast with one hand, the other on your thigh, anchoring you while he fucks you.

You’re not sure if it’s the sideways angle or what, but he’s hitting a spot that has your toes curling tight, your pussy clenching.

“Fuck-” you moan.

“Shit, I should have asked this before-” Seungcheol says, voice shaky, “do I need to pull out or-”

“I’m on birth control,” you assure him. “You can cum inside.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, rutting into you even harder. 

“Kinda want you to fill me up,” you admit.

“You’re way too sexy, baby, holy shit-”

You can tell your words are doing a number on him, and it makes your core throb with pleasure.

“Can you rub your clit?” he asks. “Want you to cum with me. I hate cumming alone.”

“Yeah.” Your hand slips between your thighs awkwardly, and Seungcheol decreases his pace  to give you a chance to catch up to his pleasure.

His movements are slower now, more precise, his cock hitting that spot deep inside that has you crying out again.

“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you. “My pretty little nurse.”

For some reason, his words just do something to you, and your core throbs even harder. “Cheol, I’m close-” you warn him,

“Tell me when you’re almost there and I’ll go fast again.”

You focus on the sight of him, on the tattoos and muscles, his strong features and the pretty dark curls. His small groans egg you on, and you’re at the edge in no time, giving him a nod. “Okay-”

He releases your breast, using both hands on your leg now to steady himself as he fucks you stupid, your whole body jolting with each motion. You let out a desperate whine, rubbing your clit even harder-

“Fuck, fuck-” Seungcheol groans. “Feels so fucking good- fuck, cum with me, baby, cum with me-”

You moan in response, your core clenching down desperately on his cock as your orgasm explodes through you. Your whole body shivers with endorphins, heart racing in your chest.

Seungcheol throws his head back, releasing an extremely sexy groan as he cums with you, fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts slowly and deeply, working you through your orgasms.

You rub your clit until you can’t take it anymore, tearing your hand away.

Seungcheol slumps forward, stilling completely, and you greedily grab at his shoulders. He collapses half on top of you, and you thread your fingers through his hair, panting hard.

His forehead rests against your own, and you both just try to catch your breath.

You’ve never felt connected to someone the way you feel connected to Seungcheol in this moment. It’s all consuming, and it makes you emotional as you come down from your high.

Seungcheol must notice your shaky breathing because he opens his eyes and looks at you. “You okay, baby?”

“I’m just-” you swallow thickly. “I don’t know-”

You can’t voice it, can’t voice the way you’re feeling. There are so many thoughts swirling around in your head, so many past traumas rearing their ugly faces and making you second guess yourself-

“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Seungcheol breathes, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like that, he can clear all of your anxieties, as if he was able to read your mind and see your fears. 

You’ve always been drawn to bad boys, to men who you envision as some kind of dark protector- and now, you think you’ve finally found the right one. 

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this fic is written in conjunction to my other story 'crossroads,' read more about Mingyu, Wonwoo, and their y/n here

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. Seungcheol’s thrusts get faster, and he rests his forehead against your spine while he rails you into the blow up mattress at a campsite where anyone could walk by. His baby fever is at an all time high, and he’s fucking you like a man who means every word he’s saying.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, sex in a campsite, exhibitionism, staying quiet during sex, pussy eating, fingering, large/muscled/tattooed Cheol, quickie, baby fever, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise, breast worship, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 180

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

 bonus

It’s been just under a year since you started dating Seungcheol, and through him, you’ve found a family. Many trivia nights, and bowling excursions have been spent with Seungcheol, his friends, Sunmi, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan. Once you’d met everyone face to face, it had been much easier to track Sunmi’s convoluted explanation of her connection to the tattoo parlour, and it’s been a joy to become so close with so many wonderful people.

Sunmi’s sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, is cousins with Mingyu and Wonwoo’s girlfriend, who’d had a beautiful baby girl this past January, and now, it’s the baby’s first summer. You don’t mind the shift of hang outs to be more baby inclusive, and now, you find yourself at a campsite with the whole gang.

While everyone is quite enamored with the little baby girl, Haesoo, no one is more obsessed than your boyfriend Seungcheol. You always get to see him coddling her while out and about as a group, but in the past three days at this campsite, you’ve contracted a serious case of baby fever.

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[starrysturnz]

baby, it’s cold outside!

pairing. matthew sturniolo x reader

summary. when a harsh blizzard hits boston, matt and y/n get snowed in. with the power out, they brainstorm an alternative way to keep each other warm— and where better to do that than by the fireplace?

warnings. smut; softdom!matt, fingering (fem!receiving), unprotected sex, implied creampie, overstimulation (fem!receiving) if you squint. so much fluff. they love each other so much it’s gross.

word count. 1k

author’s note. sorry i’m posting so late… BUT it’s 10:30pm EST so technically it’s on time. this was supposed to be longer but i was traveling today and i didn’t have the energy to keep writing. kisses!

masterlist | taglist | starrysturnz’s christmas countdown

© starrysturnz. all rights reserved. dividers by @cafekitsune.

“i think that’s enough candles, matt,” y/n laughed, the flickering of the flames reflected in her already shining eyes. “you’re going to wear out the lighter.”

matt glanced up just long enough for her to catch the mischievous grin on his illuminated face, setting the pine-labeled jar down. “it’ll last, baby. i can always go get us another one if it dies.”

“not in this weather, you won’t,” the girl scolded, gazing out the window at the white void and snagging a blanket out of the nearby storage closet. “i don’t care how close the corner store is, you’re not going out in that.” she shivered at the thought, coming up behind her boyfriend and draping the fluffy material across his shoulders. her fingers tickled their way around his waist, clasping tightly and hugging him close so she could relax against his back. 

matt’s shoulders jostled her as he chuckled. “c’mon, you know i’m not that stupid. i’d just go next door and ask mr. martínez to lend me one.”

“please. mr martínez hates us. he’d probably let you in just to push you off his balcony.” 

turning around in her grasp, matt opened his arms and ushered y/n into his embrace, securing the blanket to cover her frame. “then it’s a good thing there’s four feet of snow on the ground waiting to catch me, huh?” he swiped the tip of her nose with his knuckle, pulling her in to lay a kiss against her forehead. 

“whatever. i’m not going down there with a hairdryer to thaw you out. you’re on your own.” 

“a space heater would work better, no?” he mused with a smile. “speaking of… we gotta get some heat going in here, it’s freezing. how ’bout a fire, hm? keep us warm ’til they get the power lines back up?”

he felt her nod against his chest. “you do that. i’m gonna go grab the duvet.”

⁺⁎˚

“m-matt…,” y/n whined from beneath him, “please, don’t stop. please.” 

“i’ve barely gotten started, baby,” matt spoke lowly, nosing at her flushed cheek, “why would i stop now?”

a breathy sigh filled the space between them, “because you’re evil, and you’re a tease.”

“if i was evil, would i do this?” she gasped sharply as she felt his fingers curl inside her, hitting that special, spongy spot that always left her weak in the knees. his thumb worked hard on her clit, and a shiver shot down her spine; this time, not from the cold. 

actually, they were quite warm. matt was the one to suggest they build a makeshift bed by the fireplace, and in hindsight, y/n should’ve known he was scheming for more. but she couldn’t lie and say it was uncomfortable or impractical— the many pillows and blankets beneath her made for a really soft mattress, and she was nothing if not cozy. 

but the girl was bordering on impatient. it’s not her fault! it’s just that they’d been doing this for a while now, and the poor girl wanted more. matt’s a giver at heart, and she knew this could go on all night if she didn’t say something. 

“matt…,” she whimpered desperately, hands finding purchase in his hair. a dull ache bloomed at the base of his skull as she tugged. “m-matty—”

“matty?” he laughed. “someone’s desperate… poor thing.” his fingers never relented, and it wasn’t long before her first orgasm finally took over. 

“oh… oh, my god, matt!” y/n’s voice sounded through the small living room, her hips lifting off of the sheets and grinding into matt’s hand as she started coming down from her high. 

“’s right, baby,” he pulled his fingers out, and a whine of discomfort tumbled from her lips. “that’s it, you’re all right. i got you.” 

matt took the opportunity to take his girlfriend in. the sight of her beneath him, half aglow in the firelight, laying like an angel in their improvised bed surrounded by candles. he felt like the luckiest guy in the universe. 

“baby,” his hand came up to her face, stroking her cheek softly with his knuckles, “you’re shaking.”

y/n’s brow furrowed just so, eyes opening to meet his. “oh… sorry….”

“’s nothing to be sorry about. are you cold? i can grab another log to throw in there, or maybe we have another blanket—”

“i have a better idea.” reaching between them, she palmed him through his calvin kleins. 

matt, sucking in a breath through his front teeth, hung his head low as he gathered himself— if he came from one touch alone, he’d never live it down. y/n would make sure he never heard the end of it. 

“you sure you don’t want some water first? maybe just a minute to relax a little? i can wait, promise.” 

the girl leaned up, pressing the tip of her nose to his. “matt,” she whispered, “please fuck me.”

matt smiled and wasted no time ridding himself of his boxers, almost losing his balance and toppling onto her in the process (she laughed at him and offered no help, naturally). he groaned as he sunk in, swallowing her moans with his mouth, fingers finding her clit once again. a shudder ran through her spine at the stimulation. 

“you’re perfect,” he breathed against her neck. wet kisses littered the area, a roadmap of his favorite freckles and blemishes. “what did i do to deserve you?”

y/n wanted to tell him he was born deserving of everything good, but her lips were stuck in a permanent ‘o’ shape. she was putty in his arms, his thrusts jostling her back and forth against the pillows. 

“love you… so much, baby,” those the last words she heard before her second high, matt following soon behind her. a few moments came and went before she nudged his shoulder, and matt took that as his cue to ease up. 

“i love you, too,” y/n broke the silence. “but i think mr. martínez probably wants us evicted now.”

taglist: @toslayy

[theemporium]

i can not get birthday sex with remus out of my head. like normally it’s fifty fifty in bed with him, but since it’s readers' birthday, all he wants to do is please her. every time she reaches up to touch him, he shoves her arms down gently and is all like, "nuh-uh, dove, today's all about you."

please this is making me so😵‍💫remus as a giver just makes me so feral! thank you for requesting!🖤

.

Remus hadn’t let you lift a finger since you had woken up.

You had woken up to him pressing kisses all over your face, a massive smile on his face as you slowly blinked your eyes open before he slowly disappeared beneath the sheets and gave you a gift on the morning of your birthday.

Then he had lifted you in his arms, a bath already drawn with your favourite soaps and a cup of coffee ready for you to enjoy, along with a book he knew you had been dying to read for a while. The kiss he gave you before he parted left butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Then you made your way into the kitchen where your boyfriend—shirtless and clad in only grey sweatpants—was preparing your birthday breakfast. You had tried to help but he kept slapping your hands away, which resulted in you pouting up at him. 

The pout broke him, all the plans he had made for your birthday thrown out the window the second he gripped your hips and hoisted you onto the kitchen counter with ease. 

Now, you were gripping the edge of the wooden counter, the shirt of his you slipped on now pushed past your tits so he could squeeze and grope them as he nuzzled his face between your legs. 

“Remus, please!” you cried out helplessly, your nails digging into the wood to the point you were sure marks would be left on the counter but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“It’s my pretty girl’s birthday,” he murmured as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, which were already slick with your release. “Gotta make sure I give her the best day of her life.” 

“Please,” you whined as you reached down to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to where you needed him. 

He laughed lightly, one hand keeping your legs spread whilst the other moved down to your stomach, pressing down to keep you still. “Gonna give you everything you want, baby, just gotta be patient.” 

“I don’t wanna be patient,” you breathed out, your chest heaving and your cunt desperate for some attention. “I just want you inside me.” 

“Nuh uh,” he murmured and shook his head, his hooded eyes meeting your gaze as he leaned down to lick a long, slow strip along your cunt before flicking your clit with the edge of his tongue. “Today’s all about you.” 

“But I want you,” you whined. 

“You’ll get me eventually love,” he murmured before he locked both arms around your legs, keeping you nice and open as his tongue darted out for another taste. “Just gotta make sure you’re all ready for me, yeah? Gonna stretch you out so good.” 

Your head fell back against the counter, pathetic whines leaving your lips as Remus feasted on your cunt like a starved man. “Need you to fuck me dumb, baby.” 

He grinned against your cunt, lightly slapping your thigh until you slowly blinked your eyes open. “I am gonna eat this pretty cunt and then bend you over this counter until you can’t walk, love. I’ll carry you for the rest of the day if I have to.” 

“Shit,” you moaned. 

“That’s it, baby, now lay back and look pretty f’me.”

.

[aliwritex]

Hiii

Do you think you could do taking a shower (with the driver of your choice) and it’s not sexual at first but when reader starts washing her tits he goes feral?

heyyy, here it is. tho the actual smut in this is short and kinda shit i hope you enjoy it at least a little bit. <3

“Nooo! Get out, right now.” Yuki knocked on the bathroom door. He had been out for a run and just gotten back, he felt sticky and smelly from sweat and needed a shower. “Baby, i’m so disgusting right now, i need a shower. Please, let me go first”

“No, Yuki, you said we were going out for dinner, need time to wash and dry my hair” you said from the other side of the door.

“Just let me in then, we can shower together, please. I’ll be quick and i’ll leave you.”

You opened the door for him, already naked, and walked back into the shower, closing the glass door behind you. You watched him get undressed, he was in fact very sweaty, the shirt clinging to his back as he pulled it off.

“Can you stop staring for a second?” he chuckled shyly as if you hadn’t seen him naked a thousand times before. You rolled your eyes and turned to the wall, finally letting the water flow down your body. Yuki got in right after, giving you a quick kiss to the lips. “Love you”

“I love you too, so much” you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in under the shower. You both giggled as the water make its was through your kiss.

You pulled away first, reaching for your shampoo as yuki got himself wet. He was indeed very quick with his shower, seeing that when you were doing your second round of shampoo he was already washing off the soap off his body. He gave you a light peck in the lips before stepping out of the shower. Yuki pulled his towel from the hook and dried his hair quickly before wrapping it around his waist, when he turned back to the shower he saw you washing yourself with your loofa, dragging it down your legs, then up your bum, to your arms and finally to your chest. Your boyfriend went feral was he watched the soap create a lather over your boobs before you washed it off, revealing your hard nipples from the cold water.

“enjoying the view?” you tease, watching him nod with his lips behind his teeth “Get back in then”

He walked back in, turning off the shower and pushing your back against the wall, he kissed you intensely, the way he moved his lips and tongue translated into nothing else than need. He then left your lips to go down your neck and make his way to your chest. Yuki had always been obsessed with your boobs, them in a bra, in sweet lacy lingerie, loose under a shirt of his but mostly when they’re in his hands, nipples poking his palm, that was his favorite thing in the word. His lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue sliding against it as his left hand grabbed the other one, massaging it between his fingers.

Yuki’s other hand ran down your body, meeting your slit and letting his fingers slide between your folds. They danced around your lips for a while before he pushed them inside you. Yuki had been a giver first and taker second since the beginning of your relationship and, as much as you were enjoying the way his fingers fucked up into you, you had grown impatient as you felt his hard cock press onto your thigh.

“Baby, please, just fuck me” he nodded against your tit, pulling away with a bite on your nipple.

Your boyfriend flipped you around, making you face the wall and pulled your ass back so you felt him behind you. Your hands rested on the wall as he penetrated you slowly, because of the shower washing away your wetness you felt him burning against your lips as he pushed himself in. One of his hands dropped to your clit as soon as he started thrusting and the other make its way to your chest.

“Fuck, baby, so good” you moaned to his ear after your head fell back to his shoulder, your hand reaching for his wet hair and tugging on it. Yuki had set a restless pace to his hips, his thighs hitting the back of yours as you both groaned in each other’s ears.

He threw your leg over his forearm, making it easier for him to reach your clit, now having more control of his movements. Your hands were grasping at any part of him that you could reach, hair, shoulders, waist or arms, you just needed to fist something to keep yourself grounded and not cum too soon. But it was useless, in minutes you were on the edge, moaning uncontrollably.

“Yuki, gonna cum, so close” you sighed.

“If you cum right now, i’m cumming with you” he revealed he was also on the edge.

“Yeah, baby, please, inside, yeah? Come inside me, Yuki” the last syllable of his name coming out as a moan as you spasmed around him, feeling the knot in your stomach snap. Within seconds his orgasm followed yours, filling you with his sperm.

“Shit, baby, you were amazing” he groaned as he pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped down your cunt.

“Me?” you turned around to face him “You did all the work”

“I’m sure standing there and being hot is a lot of work too” he smiled.

“It is actually, very tiring” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here then”

“No” you groaned “need to finish”

“You’re not done yet?” you shook your head against his neck. He did wait for you to finish it and let you condition his hair after convincing him that it was too dry.

[uhhlifeig]

Giving - Dec. 12th - word count: 729 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus Lupin sat down near the hearth of Potter Manor, holding a plate of pastries and a mug of hot chocolate.

Sirius Black was sitting right next to him in the little circle that his friends had made. Remus smiled at his boyfriend and passed him a Muggle store-bought croissant, grinning when Sirius wrinkled his nose.

“Moony, are you trying to poison me? What is this- this abomination?” Sirius asked, dropping the pastry on the floor. “How dare you hand that to me?”

“Well, Sirius, you were the one who suggested we get some Muggle foods to try over Christmas hols. It’s not my fault,” Remus shrugged.

“How dare you, Moony,” Sirius said, putting a hand on his heart and pretending to faint like a Victorian-Era lady. “That is pure lies and slander, and you know it.”

“Shut up, Sirius. We want to start the gift opening,” grumbled Lily from where she was nestled into James’s side. “Save the dramatics for later.”

“Fine,” Sirius pouted, righting himself. “Who’s up first?”

“Sirius,” Peter sighed, “If you had been listening then you would have realized that it was you first. But noooo, you had to go and faint over a croissant.”

“Hey! It was an utter travesty to all French food, stop defending that atrocity,” Sirius protested, getting up and walking over to the tree to get his gift. 

Lily had insisted on doing something different this year, so she had chosen some sort of Muggle tradition called “Secret Santa” or something like that. It involved slips of paper and also a lot of secrecy, but Sirius was great at secrecy.

Oh, and his gift was for Remus. It may or may not have been a stack of books, but that didn’t matter.

Sirius grabbed the bright red present with his name on it from under the tree and made his way back over to the group.

“Unwrap it!” cheered James, which caused Lily to smack him in the arm. 

Sirius did as told, and was surprised to see a bright red and gold scarf. He picked it up, trying to figure out who had given it to him. 

It must have been Lily, he figured, as she was able to knit and she also liked to make her friends gifts.

“Lily, was this from you?” Sirius asked.

“No, it wasn’t, actually.” She smirked and glanced at Peter, who sighed at her devious smirk. 

“It’s from me, Sirius,” Peter said. “I also charmed it to be durable and also to be warm no matter what, so that Padfoot has something to play tug with that’s harder to break.”

“Thanks, Pete,” Sirius said, pretending to blow him a kiss. “Such a thoughtful lad, you are.”

“Well yeah. It’s the season of giving, after all. Now,” Peter clapped his hands together. “Remus, you’re up.”

Remus made his way over to the tree as well, picking out a deep blue box and going back to the little circle that his friends had made. 

Upon unwrapping it, his eyes widened when he saw first editions of all of his favorite books. Who the fuck would have this much money- Oh. Wait. Sirius and James would.

Remus made a guess at who the gift-giver was. He did have a fifty-fifty chance, after all. 

“Sirius, fess up. Why’d you do this for me?” 

Sirius’s eyes widened, obviously not expecting his boyfriend to guess him first try. “I mean, you said you liked those books?” he said weakly.

“No, no. Well, yes, I do, but these are first editions, Sirius. I expect you know how rare and valuable these are, no? Why?” Remus asked, already doing mental calculations for how much he owed.

“Because I love you? You mean so much to me, and also that was, like, barely a dent in Alphard’s money. I’d totally do it again. When Wally and Onion die then I’ll buy you all the books you want., actually. Make them roll in their graves a bit, you know?”

Remus sat there, shocked, before regaining his senses and pulling his boyfriend into a kiss.

A good few seconds into the kiss, Remus heard James gag. “Get a room, you two. Please. You’re dirtying the pastries’ innocent dough.” 

They broke apart, shooting him a dirty look in unison before bursting into laughter. 

“The pastries? Seriously?” Lily said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, love. Siriusly.”

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Your (and other people's) posts about Adrien's realistic behaviour towards the abuse he faces from his father (excluding the Senti nonsense) and how Marinette greatly benefits from Adrien beeing pre-abused (not getting inconvenienced at all by Adrien and Chat Noir bending backwards to please Ladybug + Maribug doesn't see it necessary to change that state) really opened my eyes on several things and are damn interesting to read. Thanks a lot! Those analyses make these relationships really fascinating to dissect and I'm kind of astounded that they are even there in such a realistic manner in the show.

The bitter truth, however, kicks in when I think about that those complex dynamics are not deliberately written but are just a mere byproduct of the story the writers actually wanted to incompetently tell, that is something along the lines of "Gabriel is a little flawed, but ultimately a loving father" and "Our good-hearted heroine Marinette deserves a perfect boyfriend and all the admiration for being the best Ladybug and Adrien is happy to dedicate his existence to her because she "truly" loves him".

Like...even if the writers wanted to write an abuse story with Adrien (which they clearly didn't want to) I seriously doubt they could have pulled that off as intricate as it coincidentally turned out. And that fact alone drives me a little bit crazy (°ロ°) How could they accidentally write their "loving" heroine and "loving" father character like that? How can Adrien show realistic behaviour an abuse victim could have but to the writers he's just perfect like that? It absolutely baffles me and makes me wonder if the writers themselves have a little skewed view on abuse where they never realized abusive behaviour in their real life and think that's just normal (even though I generally like to avoid making assumptions about creators on basis of their works).

Anyway, thanks for your time and writing interesting, thoughtful posts, it's always a joy to read!

Yeah, it's not a good look for anyone. It's also absolutely one of those cases of the characters being unable to be better than the writers. Because the writers don't seem to be aware that Adrien is a victim, no one can react properly to it and it leads to a lot of concerning writing.

The one that always makes me cringe, but that I don't think I've mentioned before is how they love to have Adrien's friends confront Gabriel when Adrien is denied something and NO! By the gods, that is the WORST thing that you could do to help an abuse victim! DO NOT confront the abuser while the victim is still at their mercy because all that you're going to do is make the abuser mad and get the victim hurt.

If you know - or even just think - that someone in an abusive situation, then I implore you to read guides on this topic as it's an incredibly tricky road to navigate. Doing the wrong thing can have all kinds of nasty consequences like driving the victim into the abuser's arms or getting them hurt. Pretty much everything about the way Adrien's friends handle it is wrong to the point where I have one fic where Adrien confesses that he keeps things from them for fear of them confronting his father and making his situation worse.

On a slightly more positive note, I'm pretty sure that I've mentioned this topic before, but one of the things that feeds my brain rot is how perfectly Miraculous setup a healthy give and take dynamic between the romantic leads. It's hard to do that, but they pulled it off and then completely failed to use it! You have Marinette needing support on the hero side because that's where all of her pressure comes from while Adrien needs support on the civilian side because that's where all of his pressure comes from. It's a great way to allow both of the romantic leads to play the support giver role while also allowing them to play the support taker role, but somehow, we never get that. Adrien doesn't get much support on either side even when he needs it most.

It will forever bother me that the seasons whose focus was his father dying was somehow also the season where multiple episodes were dedicated to him helping Marinette with her romance trauma and trying to be "worthy" of her love. They have made this adorable little romance so unhealthy and it hurts me.

Btw, all of the above is why Ladrien is my favorite side pre-reveal. I love, love, love letting Ladybug be more open about her struggles because you know that she'll never "burden" Chat Noir, but she'll happily talk to Adrien about things like that since they don't effect him (she already does this with Alya, it's absolutely in character). On the other side, Adrien is usually so private, but he would absolutely be an open book with his Lady if she asked him to be, but that won't happen while he's Chat Noir, thus Ladrien having my heart when it comes to writing a more balanced and open pre-reveal relationship. Only side that let's me do it properly.

[neetily]

hi!! can I please ask for sweet boyfriend Sam on the farmer's birthday? <3 how will he wish them a happy birthday and how will they spend the day? sfw and maybe nsfw both! thank u so much

since you asked for both SFW and NSFW, i'm taking this as a HC request instead of a drabble request :D...

warnings: nothing! just sam being sweet. wc: 971

SFW Birthday HC'S

i'm gonna be honest here, i think there's a high likelihood of him just straight up forgetting your birthday. he's very forgetful, goes in one ear and out the other! he would, of course, be suuuuuper apologetic about it though and plan to do things with you another day

but on the off chance that he doesn't forget...

i think he'd start the day off with something romantic... like breakfast in bed! something about how he remembers doing it a lot when he was younger, and kent would wake him up early on jodi's birthday to make her favourite foods... and he's all too happy to do the same for you! spends all night the night before making sure the kitchen is prepared for him just waking up !!! with all of your favs... he made sure to make note of them on his phone

he'd have a whooooole day planned out for you! anything you want, literally. it's your day, and he's at your beck and call regardless of what you wanna suggest!

though he does have the mind to pre-plan a little in the event that you decide to leave it up to him... i think maybe sebastian would help him out a little here too, only because sam is so busy stressing about making your day as perfect as possible— seb helps keep him in check!

his plans are as follows...

after breakfast in bed, he practically forces you into the shower with him so that he can freshen up with you. after all, there's a big day ahead! i like to think that if you don't just want a nice cosy evening in, he'd pack the whole day full of things to do together!! and it starts with a double shower <3...

whatever your main hobby is, he'd like to spend the morning/afternoon indulging in it together. drawing, painting, reading, gaming, knitting, hiking— whatever it may be, even if he sucks at it. all that matters to him is that you love it, and he's more than willing to act the fool to make sure you have the best day possible!!

he likes the idea of relaxing by watching a movie or two together too, especially at the cinema! a nice little treat together, but he's paying for everything !!! count it as an extension of his gift for you, which he's adamant that you won't get until later on that night!! and of course, the movie is your choice too, he's just happy to be along for the ride <3

and to top it all off, he takes you out for dinner! maybe in the city, where he'd book a nice hotel for you both too for the night. but at the saloon is nice enough too, maybe he changes it every year. just something special and one off, somewhere where you can really go all out on his expense. he just wants to treat you right, the way you deserve <3

then when night comes, that's when he lets you open his gift. and i think despite how forgetful he can be at times, he's actually a really got gift giver, even just based off vibes. either that, or he's stalking your interests a week before so that he can work out exactly what it is you'd like as a gift!! regardless, he wraps it all up by himself (as in: it's badly wrapped lmfao) and eagerly watches for your reaction!!!

also also i think he would make you a special birthday bath or something. he wouldn't join you, but after such an exhausting day of doing THINGS, he'd give you space and time to decompress in a perfectly vibed bath

(i can imagine him being passed out in bed by the time you get out LOL... tired himself out too

NSFW Birthday HC'S

birthday sex is such a cheesy idea, which is exactly why sam is so into it... of course, it's not absolutely necessary to do, but he enjoys the special event just a little more than usual i think.

he wants to, more than anything, keep things new and exciting for you— especially on your birthday! so if you have anything that he's yet to try, then this is the day he'll suggest doing it!

and i can see him either wanting to do it as soon as you get up, because oh my god he just loves you so much and he can barely contain just how much he loves you and he NEEDS YOU RIGHT THIS INSTANT or else he feels like he's gonna explode !!!!

or, he lets the tension simmer aaaaaaaall day and night long. loving and doting on you from the moment you wake up, right through until he has you under the sheets and he can prolong your bday celebrations into the AM hehe.....

he'd be so extra loving i think. lots and lots of kisses everywhere, drooling over every part of you that you allow him access to

would love to spend all night long servicing you. like forget about how hard his cock is and instead, let him eat you out for a good hour or so !!! let him finger you casually while you talk about how much fun you hand during the day!! let him suck on your titties idly while you hump his cock to your hearts content. like this is your night, you can use him however you want.

and and and !!! he would do his best to last as long as possible for you extra hard on your birthday so as to give you the best experience possible :^(... he'd struggle lmfao, but it's the trying that counts, right?

multiple loads if he can. that's all.

[r0-boat]

Dating headcanons for Kabu, Raihan, and Piers please?

Dating Headcannons for Kabu, Raihan, Piers

Sfw

Gn!reader

Cut for length

Kabu

Extremely traditional, he has the entire date planned out has a whole list of things to do and places to eat, and things to see.( more often than not already has a reservation planned)

No matter if it's your first second third or 600th the date he'll always feel nervous to take you out somewhere.

You never expected Kabu to be so romantic, he just wants to make sure you're having a good time.

Kabu's idea of a date is just as traditional a fancy dinner or somewhere quiet and go home.

The gym leader does admit that it has been sometime since he's taken someone out, and he wouldn't be surprised if dating has changed in recent years, so he would be open to anything if you decide to change it. But his first instincts will always be take you out to dinner.

Now he doesn't mind taking you places to have fun it will just take him a while to let loose a little bit. He'd much rather take it slow.

During the actual date, Kabu won't take his eyes off you; you have his full attention.

Kabu prefers taking it slow he is not interested in flings when he is with someone he is in for the long haul. He wishes for a partner to stay by his side.

Kabu says is not a jealous man but you can't help but notice his eyes seemed to Twitch when someone gets a little buddy with you.

Raihan

Raihan thrives off dates while a dinner is considered for him, it isn't his go-to.

Like the extroverted battery he is he will drag you to any place he thinks is fun and wants to bring you to. Every attraction in Galar are you two have gone to at least twice. And precious thumb drives are filled with pictures and videos of every date. The ones he posts on his social media are not even 1% of the ones he has.

Raihan is less of a list and plan guy and more of a follow your heart.

If going out isn't really your thing or going anywhere where there's a lot of people he'll try to meet in the middle because a date is successful when two people are having fun.

As much as I do see Raihan being the more extroverted going out and doing things kind of boyfriend I do think he is rather flexible with Partners who don't really want to go out.

Raihan is extremely perceptive of other people, and we'll take note of your likes and dislikes, to be completely honest he is the happiest when you're happy.

Raihan is a self-proclaimed Master at dating spots; like I said, he is highly perceptive of the people he is dating. He'll pick a place that he knows you'll like, and he'll pick up on your habits pretty quickly. He'll know when you are or not having fun.

Raihan is a very doting boyfriend anyone would be lucky to be with him.

I also see him as quite the gift-giver as well, he puts a lot of thought into every gift he gives you, ( sometimes he has Dragon brain and gives you a Shiny rock or nick nack he randomly saw and made him think of you)

Piers

Eh, to be completely honest Piers doesn't care one way or the other; if going on dates means a lot to you, then sure, he'll do it to make you happy. But Piers can spend time with you in any way he wants to without any of that fancy stuff.

A guy like him, oblivious and doesn't know what romance even is, would be very in trouble on a first date, lucky for him, his sister has his back whether he wants help or not. What kind of sister would she be if she let her brother crash and burn? And Raihan can supply good spots in Galar that have good reviews and are good dating spots

Piers classifies anything as a date, even if it's just you, too, having a lazy Sunday on the couch.

Peirs ideal date if you were to ask him he, would probably say being at home with his partner eating pizza and watching The Great Galar Bake Off.

But once in a blue moon, Piers will knock you out of the park with something you never expect from him. Taking you outside of the town and watching the Stars or Have you listen to a short song he wrote about you. You have no idea where is this comes from because usually, your Piers has no romantic bone in his body.

If you would like to take him out somewhere, sure, he'll bite. He doesn't mind either way.

Piers has a tendency to be a little protective over people he really likes.

Maybe even a little bit possessive over you specifically.

[scarlettsandmaroons]

shiny family | n. romanoff

about me | series masterlist | natasha romanoff masterlist

pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader

chapter eight | chapter nine: for some it was paradise

chapter summary: you were tired of the hot and cold. you were tired of her. you were tired. so much so that you wish you just never met her. and frankly, she feels the same.

warnings: smut; minimal spanking, slight manhandling, choking | small mommy kink | dom!natasha romanoff, slightly bratty but sub!reader. angst; fight. unedited, long.

a/n: hi, it's me again. I KNOOOW IT'S BEEN TOO LONG. but oh lord dear god, have i been busy 😭 but i hope you like this one. had a fun time planning it out in my head. also this is kinda long, and ugly because I NEVER PROOFREAD ANYTHING. but i'll definitely get around to proofreading everything once i wrap up the series.

the box was wet from your sweating hands. your hands has been doing that for a bit now, you weren't sure when it started. "happy birthday, babe," you smiled, your palms unconsiously taking turns rubbing down your sides which billy noticed. 

he lazily stood up the couch to put his body against yours, and rest his chin on your head. "baby, you know you didn't have to," he whispers. he set your gift down before he took your wrists and had your palms rub against his shirt instead. "you've given me too much already," he says, his voice honeyed and soft. 

he was right. you've given him a gift for every day that led up to his birthday. you were never a gift giver. but you just got the need to get him something. and the urge became compelling the more you saw the smile on his face and realized how much you'd hate if it faded away. 

"you're the best present i could ever have. you're enough," he kissed your forehead, allowing a gap between you when his hands left yours on his lower back so it can hold your waist instead. "you know that right?" he was looking at you so intently. so lovingly. 

you smiled. the brown in his eyes were a lot brighter than yours. you were always jealous of that. you could clearly see the lines that make up his iris, and the dark outline around it. it was always unlike his mother's who had blue-green eyes. wanda had green eyes. 

natasha had green eyes. 

she's not his biological mother, but she had green eyes. 

you always liked mrs. romanoff's green eyes. 

you always liked mrs. romanoff. 

and there she goes again, natasha's in your thoughts again. 

natasha natasha natasha natasha.

someone cleared their throat. 

and by what instinct, you pulled away, lightly hitting his chest and laughing, "don't be so cheesy," you don't know why you said that. why did you say that? why did you say that?

you were sure he noticed, you could feel his eyes on you for a bit, but you weren't looking. you were too busy looking around as if you'd been caught in what mischievous act hugging your boyfriend was. 

"happy birthday, bill." 

mrs. romanoff.

the moment she caught your eyes, you couldn't look away. no matter how hard you tried. no matter how much you wanted to. she took every bit of your attention. and every bit of you. and you saw her lips move, but your ears couldn't hear anything other than her grunts, and your moans, and her skin slapping against yours. 

"please... i need you."

you weren't sure what she was doing to you. what spell does she have on you? something was swirling in your gut, and pinching at your heart, and burning your skin, and you couldn't comprehend the mix of feelings. the only thing you knew was that she didn't look at you. she didn't look at you. she didn't look at you. she didn't look at you. 

"y/n, babe, are you okay?" 

she didn't look at you. 

"does momma still make you nervous?"

she came in, and then she left as if you weren't there. 

"bubba, you know she's nice. you guys were making progress, weren't you?"

there was not one second that her green eyes took interest in looking at you. 

"she likes you." 

why didn't she look at you. 

"you don't have to be afraid of her."

why won't she look at you?

"okay?" 

you didn't break out of the void that's your thoughts until you felt his hand on your shoulder. and by then he was already standing so close to you again, and looking at you with the same loving gaze as he was before. you opened your mouth, and silence poured out of your lips. 

then mrs. maximoff saved you. 

you heard her call billy from upstairs for plates. 

billy runs his hand down your arm before smiling at you, "i'm sorry. i promise you'll have me all to yourself tonight," he says before running off to his mother. 

you couldn't think. natasha took too much of your brain again. and your body had to fend for itself. your feet took you to the kitchen, and your hands grabbed everything in sight to make yourself busy. natasha was there. your body knew that much, and decided that this is where you should be. your body knows a lot about natasha. natasha is the only thing your body knows. so when your brain shuts down, your body escapes to the only thing it knows. 

you don't what you were doing there. you wanted to get out. you needed to. you needed to breathe. natasha was by the counter. you were in the small round table near the entrance. you couldn't see her. you had your back against her. 

"hey...," you said. 

nothing. 

then you felt a swift breeze behind you. 

she left. 

and you felt your heart crack just a little. 

your heart was full of cracks. your heart has been full of cracks since the first moment you saw her. but nothing would ever compare to the shattered pieces your heart is barely held into right now. 

what had you done?

you fucked her, that's what. a married woman—your boyfriend's mother fucked you and you let her.

but no, you were fine. she made you eggs the day after. she let her fingertips wander off to your skin too long when she passed by. she pulled your hair to one side so she can lay her warm touch on your bare neck while you sit in her office chair and she stands behind you. she... let you look at her. she smiled at you. 

she was fine. 

you were fine. 

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

people started pouring in before lunch. you've never once recognized a face among the stream of people that went straight to the back yard where billy's "wanda-insisted-barbecue-party" took place. but you weren't really paying attention. you were too busy eyeing natasha from the other side of the hallway. 

she came in the kitchen the moment you left. and since then, you've been standing in the dining room, across the hall even when people trampled into the house and you could only see nothing but an occasional glimpse of her smoking a cigarette in a black fitted dress between the gaps of figures that came running in. 

your phone dinged. and it was billy looking for you. he texted you a photo of the plate he prepared for you and an emoji with its tongue out. "i set aside your favorite. come out, where are you?" his text read. 

you could've gone out. after all it was the right thing to do. your boyfriend was looking for you and was right outside. but the people in the hallways were clearing up, and by the time the door closed, you marched, not to your boyfriend, but to who your feet knew you wanted more. 

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

she didn't look at you, "shut your mouth. people can hear you," she says, barely acknowledging your presence. 

a wave of deja vu hits you. 

but not the same as to where you'd cry and blame her for being mean. 

"shut my mouth?" you chuckled, "i thought you'd be the type to like it wide open," you challenged. 

she didn't do anything at first. she was waiting until the very moment the noise outside came muffled when the sliding door to the backyard closed. 

and then she smiled. your chest shrunk. she flicked of her cigarette and you saw it fly to the floor. 

and then she had your neck in a bruising hold. so tight you could barely breath. she dragged you to the counter, her body pushing against yours, and her eyes burning with all the emotion you can no longer read.

she pushed your back to lay on the surface, pinning your wrist above your head. "i told you to shut your mouth didn't i?" 

for a moment, all reason turned to the liquid you feel wet your underwear. but you resisted, you held the hand holding your neck, tapping out when tears started forming your eyes from the lack of air.

and then she let you go completely, stepping far, and facing away.  

you were catching all the air you lost, your body melting to the floor where you kneeled with your back against the island's side, your hand clutching your chest. 

but you didn't step down. never against her again. "you fuck me and pretend i don't exist. how does that work?" you say, meaning to sound much angrier but the air you caught onto didn't allow anything other than a few breathless words. 

a classmate of yours delivered you a letter from mrs. romanoff a week ago. it was a transfer letter from her class to ms. parker's with her signature on it. she was letting you go. 

when you came to class the day after, someone was already sitting on the seat you practically claimed was your own. the one behind that big guy who you'd hide behind of. 

she didn't care that you were there though. she didn't care about you at all. she completely ignored your blatant chasing of her in the hallways, or your greetings, or your "why are you transferring me?" 

she started locking her office door for anyone who might barge into it. she completely ignores your very being in dinner, looking at you as if she can see the wall through your fading existence. she stopped making you breakfast, or being in the same room as you. 

she stopped looking at you. 

"look at me!" you say when your energy regains and you stand up. "what had i ever done to you! all i've ever wanted was for you to see me...," your voice cracks. "i don't know why i seek for your validation so much. why i care for what you think. why i let you define who i am. why do i live for you?" 

"y/n...," she whispers into a warning. 

"no. why? why? why do i care so much for you. why can't i stay away from you? why do i keep on chasing after you, running after you, pulling you, begging you. why can't i live when you don't look at me?" tears started running down your cheeks. you weren't sure why, all you were sure of was that you wanted to stop. you wanted everything to stop. you wanted her to leave your life forever because until she came, you were fine. why did she have to come? why did she have to ruin you? "you know what? i will give up anything to not have met you," you blurt out when you receive zero response from her frozen body. "i wish i never met you, mrs. romanoff."

"how do you think i feel?"

"what?" 

she turned around. "how do you think i felt when i found out that the girl i liked was the same girl my son liked?" 

you didn't know what to say. memories came tumbling down your mind, tangled to knots. thoughts were nothing but a mere "what?". and by then you just though it best to stay silent. 

"you came into my office. you were gutsy, you were brave, and i thought: great, another student i can break. but you were pretty, and you were awkward, and sweet. and the moment i entered my class, you were the first person i saw," the distance between you two was more than you were comfortable of. you wanted her closer. but you didn't move. and she, she was already pulling you closer by her eyes, what more could she do? "i didn't even have to look for you, i just saw you. even at the very back, behind a giant guy, i still saw you. i looked at you, and i haven't looked away ever since." 

you looked away, unable to hold the eye contact. "but it felt like you never saw me..., i wanted you to look at me so badly..." 

she chuckled dryly, almost bitterly, "you were the only one i saw. i couldn't remember a single person in my classes, i don't recognize anyone but you," something pulled you back to her eyes. her face was relaxed. her shoulders were loose, and she was present, with you. just with you. for the first time, she seemed aimless. like she wasn't trying to get anywhere, or do anything. like she didn't have a goal. "i hate that the only thing i can see is the way your lips twitch, or your leg bounce, our your fingers fiddle with your pen. i see when you get lost in what i teach from the way your eyebrows furrow and you mouth a what the fuck before giving up. i see the way you actively try to hide behind your classmate, or the way you try to be as small as possible in my class. i see you and everything you do, and i hate it.

"i hate that i think about you. that i can't escape from you. even on the weekends, i think about that day when you came in with lip gloss on instead of lipstick and i wonder what kept you up at night that you ran late. when i'm going home, i think about you and if you'd caught the bus on your way home, or if you even ride the bus. and when you got drunk, i was in my office the next day, and i was wondering if you took medicine, if you were okay, if you were hungover, if you stayed over or if you went to your house."

your phone rang. and the air shatters. 

you looked at natasha for a second, but she was already looking away. so you brought your phone up to your ear and turned away, "billy! hi...," you greeted with faux enthusiasm. 

you could hear the noise from his end, the people talking, the meats cooking, "where are you? i want to introduce you to people!" he says. you can hear the smile in his voice. 

you gave an emphatic smile, "i'm trying to choose a dress before i shower. i might take a while."

"i'm sure you'd like great even in a shirt and sweatpants, you're perfect!" 

you forced a chuckle. "thank you." 

"tell me if i need to get you, okay?" 

"okay."

"i love you!"

silence.

"i love you too." 

you closed the call. and natasha passed right by you on her way out, but you caught her arm before she made it. "wait," you say, turning her around. "we're not finished."

"i don't know what else you want to hear dear, but you should really get back to your boyfriend," she attempts to leave again, but your grip tightens. 

"so what—so you can ignore me again? so you can pretend i don't exist one day, and tell me you only see me the next?" you're angry now. you were challenging the challenger. but you're tired of letting her have all the cards, of playing a game clearly only she has control over. you're tired of her. "i'm tired of the hot and cold, mrs. romanoff," i'm tired of one day feeling okay to call you natasha, one day feeling okay calling you mommy, then feeling i'm only entitled to a mrs. romanoff the next. 

she looked away, smirking bitterly as if thinking about it. "fine, you want to hear it?" she says, breaking out of your hold. "you want to hear me say it?" 

you were afraid she was angry. but she wasn't. her voice was raising. she wasn't shouting, and her eyes, they weren't staring soullessly into you. her jaw wasn't clenched, and somehow, you feel her racing heart, and her subtly heaving chest. 

"you want to hear that it's wrong? it's wrong, y/n. you were my student. and i tell myself that whenever i think of you, whenever i see you, whenever i feel you, whenever i want you. when my heart skips, when i smile, when i grow excited to walk into my class because i know you'd be there, when i'm practically pulling the sun out of its sleep so it can be the next day, and i can see you again. i tell myself it's wrong. you were my student, and i was married," you could see the way her pupils dilated. she was thinking of wanda. you can always tell when she's thinking of wanda. "but i still wanted you."

it was odd to think that while the world went on outside, the two of you shared a moment as if frozen in time inside the privacy of her home. that in this very moment, it was just you and her, and whatever desire you have for each other. nobody else, nothing. 

it was always like that between you two. it was always you and her. you always forget about anyone else outside your bubble. you forget about wanda, you forget about billy. 

but she doesn't. 

she lives with the guilt while you pretend it doesn't exist. 

"so how do you think i felt when i finally pieced together that the girl i like was not just my student, but the girl my son was in love with? that she's as much a part of this family as i was?"

you were looking up at her, "you genuinely liked me...," you whisper. 

"i tried not to. i tried to hate you. i ignored you, i humiliated you. you were my student. i needed to treat you as such. but i'm sorry, it was personal. i was actively trying to push you away. and then you were billy's bestfriend, and i had to hate you even more. but i couldn't," she was kinder. her voice was softer, just above a whisper. "and my wife was trying to fix our marriage. she was begging me to come home, billy needed me to come home. and i thought when i did, i'd finally escape you. i'd mend my marriage, and i'd stop caring about you. but even here you haunt me." 

"natasha i—" 

"i had to try extra hard, but i still wanted you, i burned for you, i desired you, i needed you. and i had always been terrible at resisting you. i always slipped before. and this time, i just... i couldn't," she paused to take a breath. and then she looked away with her lips that forced into a half smile. "but you love billy...," she whispers, completely avoiding your eyes. "and you should, i know him. he'll treat you right—"

you kissed her. you pulled her in by the neck, and you kissed her. 

her hand quickly rested above your hips, pulling you impossibly close to her while your fingers found shelter between her crimson locks. 

the kiss was hungry, you were sucking in so much of each other, and she had but one goal: to make you hers. 

you were going around the kitchen, kissing, feeling for any surface she can take you on. your back hit a wall, but you flipped her over so her back was against the fridge. your hands were quickly feeling for her, running quickly against her sides, running back up on her abdomen past her breast, and back to her neck. you were trying to feel so much of her, every part of her like there wasn't enough time of the day. 

because there really wasn't. 

she was working on your denim shorts, and the lace that tied your top from the back. she switched with you so your back was against the cold metal fridge. and she pulled back, looking at you, panting, like silently asking for your permission. 

her hair was all over the place, and you took it upon you to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. you smiled. 

you held her hand on your neck, and you let it travel down your body. you lifted your chin to what the fridge behind you allowed when she caught on, and you pulled her hand to the gap between your covered breasts. and when it reached your stomach, you made sure to roll your eyes in the way that you knew might drive her crazy. 

and then you pushed your hands between your two bodies so it reaches your wet core. you didn't let her touch. you felt her fingers extend in an attempt to reach it, but you held it far enough so she can only feel how warm you were without feeling you.

you made sure not to look at her. you closed your eyes, and you let your chest rise, and your mouth open slightly. it was as if you were playing with a sex toy. like you were holding a vibrator and teasing yourself with it.

you know she's in-charge. she would be in a few seconds, but you wanted to play a little. the only card you have against her was this, her imminent desire for you. and you wanted to use it. you wanted to tease her. you wanted to feel how it is to control her the same way she does you. 

so you made it erotic, more than it should normally be—the way your back arched when you finally let her touch, controlling how long her finger stays, or how hard she pressed. 

and then you let her fingers press a little harder on your swollen bud, and you moaned. she flipped you. she flipped you so quickly that you didn't realize your front was against the wall until she carried you by the stomach and bent you over the counter.

she made you spread your legs. and then her fingers danced on your core. she pressed on every part of you until you were grinding on her. "natasha, don't—" you breathed, "don't tease me," you were trying to stay in control, maybe her confession got to your little head. but you were trying to tell her what to do. and she wasn't having it. you had you time, your fun.

you gasped when she cupped your sex with her palm. "i think, you need to learn to be patient, dear," she whispers against your ear.

you felt her weight. and her warmth, and somehow, with the very little reason left in your body, you remembered the people in the backyard. the people who can pass through the hallway, and find a clear glimpse of you and the birthday boy's mother. 

you couldn't move. the weight of her body held you in place. but you forced your hand to find the back of her head. you resisted the moans. you resisted the uncontrollable urge to grind against her hand by forcing yourself still.

"natasha, someone might see," you whispered. "we can't do this here."

suddenly, she was rubbing your pussy with the entirety of her palm. she was rubbing your swollen nub, and your hole, and everything that her hand covered. your mouth dropped wide open to let out the most animalistic moan you had absolutely no control of. and then she pulls your hair back so your ear is right where her lips were. 

"so?" 

the voice of reason left, and it took all your inhibitions with it. 

anybody can walk in or even pass by and they will be met by you being fucked on top of the kitchen island. they're going to see what slut billy's girlfriend is. what slut she is for his mother. but you can't stop grinding on her hand. the mere thought of someone seeing you being fucked out makes you grind even harder until her palm leaves your clothed pussy, and lands hard on your covered ass.

"mommy doesn't like naughty girls. you should know that, right?" she slaps you again. and then again. and then again. "didn't i tell you to be patient?"

she removed your shorts before pushing herself against you, pressing down on your body while pulling your hair as far as your body allowed. you can feel her bulge against your cunt. and you couldn't help but grind against her dress, fully knowing the juices you'll be leaving on it, but frankly you couldn't care less.

"please, i just need you to fuck me.." you cried. "please, nat..."

her eyebrows pinched almost in insincere pity. "now, is that the way to talk to your mommy?"

"mommy, please..."

she made you sit on the counter, never letting go of the grip she had on your hair. you were panting. and huffing. you were like a puppy in heat as you faced her with legs all spread out on top of the counter. you presented her with the cunt that only she gets to touch. the pussy that she's claimed the first time she touched you. 

her eyes softened for a moment when she comes as close as the counter gave her the space to. her other hand falls on your waist, while the other tugs at your hair so your faces are just an inch apart. she looked concerned, she looked like she was about to give into what you want. but then she doesn't.

"you have no idea how much i wanted you," she says, and suddenly her hand's on your neck, while the other finally makes contact with your cunt, pushing your lace underwear to the side. "i thought it would be less after i that night, but no... i just... i couldn't resist. i wanted you so badly, and i keep wanting more of you everyday."

your hips grinded harder against her fingers and then finally when she slammed two into you. and your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hips meeting her thrusts.

"god, yes mommy. please fuck me."

her grip on your neck tightens. "but you're billy's aren't you?" something in your stomach tightens. and you weren't sure what billy's mother wanted you to say. you weren't sure if she knew what she was saying, and what she was making you say. 

but you sensed it. she sounded angry upset. and with the way she's restricting your airways, and the way she's slamming unforgivingly against your pussy, you knew.

she was fucking her son's girlfriend on the kitchen counter on his birthday. yet, you feel it inappropriate to tell his mother that you don't belong to her son, you're boyfriend. 

but it was only true. "no...," you say. 

you need her. her fingers aren't enough. you wanted her to stretch you out. you wanted to feel her against every part of your cunt.

"right...," she says. "who do you belong to, sweetheart?" her grip tightens even more when she adds another finger and your hips jolts up as your eyes roll impossibly further back into your head. 

you were screaming her name. chanting it over and over again until her grip tightens even more. "quickly, sweetheart. i heard the backyard door open," she was bluffing. but you wouldn't know. 

you couldn't breath. your hand takes grasp of her wrist, but it wasn't to stop her hand from gripping your neck. you couldn't care less about air when she just added the last of her four fingers while her thumb circles your clit. 

you were chasing your high. you wanted this so badly. the way she was reaching spots, rubbing against parts you didn't even know existed. you were losing your mind. you couldn't breath, you couldn't think. your mind was blank, and it might be that you're about to pass out, that your close to seeing stars, but you knew that if you were on your deathbed, this might just be the memory you'd be wishing to relive. 

"who do you belong to?"

you grinded even harder, your hips were writhing against the fingers that only increased in pace. you were hazy. you were a moaning mess. and right at the very last second when you can feel yourself slipping away in pure ecstasy and an incredibly limited amount of air, you were able to mutter, "you."

and then she lets you go right at the very second you exploded in her fingers. her hand was no longer on your neck, it was pressing on your chest just below your collarbone as she lets you ride out your high. your moans. her name. your cries. it was all music to her ears.

your consciousness came back, all along with your reason, and reality itself. you opened your eyes, panting. 

and quickly, you dressed yourself, and she fixed herself when you did hear the backyard door open this time, and footsteps came approaching. 

she pulled you in by the hand one last time to land a kiss on your forehead before she stepped away, and right on time, wanda came in. 

"oh god, there you two are! we have been waiting for you to come out!" wanda says, rushing towards natasha but laying a careful touch on you when she passed by, "billy's looking for you dear," she tells you before she goes to the fridge where natasha waits for her. "oh lord, look at you! what ever happened to your hair?" while mrs. maximoff was fussing over her wife against the fridge, natasha was looking at you with a smug look on her face, like you two shared an inside joke no one in the world would ever know about. "quickly, quickly. we have to give a toast for the twins."

you left the two alone, going out to the backyard first where billy quickly welcomed you to his arms. you thought they deserved the privacy, you thought it was respectful to do so. 

billy had his arm around your waist while he introduced you to absolutely everyone. the names got lost in your mind, but the few people you took note of were: tony stark, clint barton, bruce banner, and steve rogers. 

half of them were professors. the other, you knew to be very famous. but billy left you with them when he was called onto by someone asking for help with the grill, and they were surprisingly, really fun.

you've learned they were very close to natasha. and now, you assumed that maybe they were this little group. from the way the four of them stuck together the entire time, you only assumed they were more here for natasha than wanda, or the party. 

"so this is the special girl, huh?" clint opens with a one-arm hug. 

"if you get tired of romanoff's bs, call me. i'll get you on a stark workshop, and i'll give you a job,"tony interjects, giving you a card. "you don't need romanoff." 

"hell, he'll give you a house," clint laughs. 

"or a mansion," stark adds. "whatever floats your boat." 

 "ask him to pay for you college fund. that's how i guaranteed free college for my three kids," clint whispers. 

"it's nice to meet you, y/n l/n," steve cuts in between both tony and clint, and offered you his hand."i'm steve rogers, history and geography. nat has told us so much about you."

"i'm uh—bruce banner. chemistry," the other one says. 

you knew who they were. everyone knew who they were. but you still shook their hands like you didn't. 

soon, more than a few minutes of the four's overlapping attempts in making conversation with you, you heard a soft call for a toast. 

before you could fully let sink in the image of vision and tommy, and wanda at the center with a glass raised and a butter knife gently hitting it, and natasha romanoff, billy snatched you right from the group and pulled you right to where they stood—the pieces of a broken family that still stands so tall and perfect. 

you wanted to appreciate them a bit, while you and billy walk towards them. these people are a part of a big messy tree which you can guess has a lot of history. they were broken, and while the pieces meet, nothing would mend them back together. 

but that's the beauty of it. you could see how perfectly they all fit together, even natasha. despite the gaps in between, this works. this dynamic works. they stay the family everyone wants to have despite the cracks. they stay perfect, and shiny. 

you wanted to take a good look at them, before you break it. before you break it more. before you officially become a piece that would ruin the dynamic, the family, the specificity of everything that makes this work. 

billy gives you a peck on the forehead, before letting you off to natasha who stands a few steps behind wanda who now had the twins on either side. 

you didn't say anything, you just stood right next to her as if she just hadn't make you see stars 30 minutes ago. 

and then suddenly you felt an arm snake behind you and pull you closer to her by the waist before it rested on the lower part of your back. she didn't say anything, she just took a sip from her glass as if her finger wasn't tracing patterns while wresting on your back. 

"natasha," you whispered, looking at the grass beneath you. "i like you too."

she didn't respond for a while. but you feel her push her hand into the back pocket of your denim shorts. 

"then how about we sneak out and go on a little date?"

you knew that the second she stepped out, and the moment you found a chance to follow her, that was the beginning of a secret that would ruin everything that you have. 

and frankly, that did not stop you from getting on her motorcycle anyway. 

[explainslowly]

Thought it would be fun to do a little Fic Director's Commentary

And then @autisticandroids said I should do Finer things... so here you go...

Dean Winchester always loved the ladies, and the ladies always seemed to love him back. And since he’s such a giver, he doesn’t mind passing the know-how along to the less fortunate.

You know, this line has enough of a self-ironic tongue-in-cheek quality to be almost ooc except Dean is kind of sincere about it, in my mind. The opening line is also sort of mimicking the one-two punch of Dean Winchester Beat Sheet gay Dean tag + opening insane het sex scene. Me when I lie <3

Sam declines Dean’s invitation for a pub crawl with a sour face and then pointedly retires to his own room a few doors down the hall. He can be very squeamish about these things, so Dean is perfectly fine with not being subjected to his running commentary as he teaches Cas to score, Dean Winchester style.

Please imagine being Sam and your insane brother trying to include you in his weird ass sex life where he makes his boyfriend flirt with women for his own titilation. Dean is sort of living in plausible deniality space, here. Well, in his mind. Sam is pretty clear on what is happening.

In the privacy of their room, Dean concentrates on getting Cas ready. Maybe Cas could use a second set of clothes, but there is something so charming about his cheap suit and creeper trench coat. That said, Dean won’t let him go to a bar looking like that.

“Lose the coat and jacket.”

I hope I'm not the only one who thinks it's so hot when Dean plays with Cas like he's his personal dress up doll.

Cas undresses without protest and once he is down to his dress shirt, Dean steps closer and unties the knot, slides the tie from Cas’ neck, the silk sighing softly as it brushes against the cotton of the shirt, Cas’ eyes tightly following the trajectory of Dean’s fist. His breath hitches and he grabs for Dean’s hips, but Dean shakes him off.

So this is like, porn writing to me? Or at least one kind of porn writing - focusing on sensory information and sensuality. Touch, sound, things like that.

“Focus, angel,” Dean keeps his tone light and quietly basks in the effect the word has - Cas shivers, stands taller and keeps his arms loose by his sides. Eager to obey.

Shout out to B autisticandroids for saying "Dean says angel as a pet name but Cas hears 'soldier'".

Dean contemplates their plans. Cas has a lot going on, it’s just a question of making chicks take notice. He sinks his fingers into Cas’ soft hair, taking his time reshaping it until it’s fluffy, until it makes you want to grab and pull. Cas’ eyes are burning, trying to catch Dean’s, the intensity stoking the fire in Dean’s belly.

“If you look at whatever chick we find for you the same way, you’re gonna score for sure, buddy.”

Cas narrows his eyes and whines “Dean…”, a note of complaint audible.

I think I probably could have also tagged this fic as edging lmao. Part of like, the rare concept of dom Dean is that he gets enjoyment and a feeling of power from denying Cas. It's not a game I think Dean plays often bc he tends to think of himself as something for other's consumption. Alternatively, he denies things because he thinks they are not allowed. So denying Cas so playfully here lends the fic a really sweet tone, to me.

“You’ve done so well last time, buddy. Almost there, I can tell.” As expected, the praise cuts any protests short and Cas settles back into being maneuvered by Dean, looking pleased to be handled. Dean undoes the first two buttons on his shirt, and then starts rolling up his shirtsleeves. Cas’ arms are striking, well-toned and covered in dark hair and Dean can’t resist dragging his hand over his forearm, settling at the wrist and squeezing.

“You have to show off your assets.”

Cas cocks his head to the side “My assets?”

“You know,” Dean gesticulates broadly at all of him “like your arms. Put them on the bar, lean in, really let her look. Drives chicks crazy.”

Dean knows what drives chicks crazy. Insert Dean gender implications.

“I see.”

Dean grins and gets a barely perceptible smile from Cas in return. There is something nostalgic about giving out advice. It makes Dean feel smart and cool in a way he hadn’t in ages, maybe ever since Sam stopped looking at him with pure wonder in his eyes and started questioning everything about their family.

Wincest moment. I jest, I jest. But I do think Dean is sufficiently family-pilled that he runs all his relationships either through the "this is like being Sam's brother" or "this is like being Dad's son" filter because those are like. The two relationships he had growing up. Currently Cas is getting the Sammy treatment.

Cas doesn’t question Dean’s wisdom, he listens. And listen he should, because he has a lot to learn - Cas doesn't at all know how to be a guy, and that is a dangerous thing not to know. He is real lucky to have Dean perching on his metaphorical shoulder.

There is a hint of anxiety to this for sure, that Dean is processing underneath it all. He's at least a little scared about Cas being so visibly gay. Even though he likes it.

They arrive at the swanky bar well into the evening, a place Dean chose both for its largely non threatening male population and for ladies who don’t seem to possess very high standards.

They grab a beer and settle in and not even ten minutes have passed and already Dean has noticed a woman looking in their direction. Of course, there is always a possibility she is actually checking out Dean, but it is worth the risk.

“Your six o’clock, hot lady checking you out.”

“It’s nine pm, Dean.”

“No, jesus. I mean, uh, behind you.”

Amusing myself by Cas not understanding colloquialisms.

Cas turns around with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Dean can see the lady raising her eyebrows at them, so he winks at her. She seems like a businesswoman, dressed tidy and clean, probably an empty bed and a cat or two at home. She should eat Cas right up.

“Yes, she is looking in our direction,” Cas confirms after turning back.

“Yes, great job Cas, very subtle.” He squeezes his shoulder. “Go for her, Casanova, I believe in you. And remember: less creepy staring, more sexy glowering.”

“Of course,” Cas says magnanimously and off he goes. They have been at this for a few weeks now and Cas had mostly shed his initial nervousness. That diminished Dean’s fun a little, even though he feels pretty proud of himself for getting Cas there. He could probably get him all nervous again if he switched up the scenario somehow, but for now he leans back and watches Cas join the lady at the bar - she seems pleased enough to see him and Dean licks his lips, already imagining how he will reward Cas for succeeding.

Again this is a dom Dean fic. I don't broadly subscribe to daddy dom Dean interpretations but there are scenarios... In this case it is about being Older brother cool guy but also just that Dean really enjoys putting Cas in little situations and watching him flounder. He's so endlessly charmed by him.

Cas says something and the lady laughs. Already as good as hooked, if she thinks Cas is funny, or at least cares enough to pretend. He watches her watch Cas with hunger and yeah, the ladies can appreciate his assets, all right. She is pretty - not porn pretty, but regular sort of next-door by way of yoga class and frappuccinos pretty.

Dean wants to see Cas touch her. He clasps his hands together and whispers to himself "As I lay me down to sleep, I pray Castiel my soul to keep. You should touch her elbow - slowly and look for her reaction".

This idea came to me as a bolt of lighting. Dean should be using prayer telepathy for sexual reasons <3

He sees Cas twitch and then lean in, smoothly placing his palm over her elbow. The lady laughs, licks her lips, narrows the space between them. Cas' huge palm encircles the delicate crook of her arm and Dean has to drag his jacket over his crotch so that the whole pub can't see him chubbing up.

To be clear Dean is aroused by Cas being Succesfully Heterosexual, but he is also very much imagining himself in that woman's position, for reasons he will simply not be examining in this fic <3 I was not aiming for a trans woman Dean reading here, but to me, Dean always has gender going, no matter what.

Cas is good at maintaining physical closeness without being threatening - there’s something harmless about him, something almost innocent Dean thinks, and the chicks eat it up.

Personally I think Dean's read on Cas is insane and maybe a little offensive but also he's obsessed with his little guy. Make of that what you will.

Cas whispers something into the woman’s ear and she smiles, Dean mimicking her facial expression involuntarily.

He's so normal <3

It’s good - let everyone know that Cas is a ladies’ man, a real specimen of his sex, worthy of respect.

Again - a sense of underlying anxiety mixing itself with Dean thinking it's hot that Cas is being a Straight Guy.

It settles Dean into a pleasurable state of anticipation - his charge on his way to success and he himself seated comfortably with a beer in his hand and free to observe and savor him - the bar is lit up in cold light, modern. It flatters Cas’ features well, tones the blue of his eyes almost electric.

This is a reference to the visual style (especially the color grading) of season 4, btw.

Dean sips his beer and casually moves the jacket over his lap, allowing himself a brief moment of friction, and then settles in again, letting the want build under his skin.

The space this fic is playing in is one where it's debatable whether Dean likes to actually get off, but he really really likes being aroused and sitting with it.

Almost too soon, the woman is reaching into her bag, producing a scrap of paper and a pen. She writes the number down and gives it to Cas and Cas kisses her softly on the cheek, lips just barely brushing her skin - Dean observes the way she squeezes Cas’ wrist, red nails a sharp contrast against his pale skin.

Again Dean's kind of putting himself in her place, is kind of aroused by like, the signifiers of feminity...

Cas returns to their table, slight curl to his lip that is his equivalent of a rockstar grin. He hands the paper to Dean and their fingers brush, electric.

“Good job, buddy.”

Dean sets the paper down on the table without committing the number to memory, a successful conquest its own reward.

I did feel kind of bad for the lady, writing this...

“Ok, so here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to snatch up the last stall in the men’s room, and in ten minutes, you’re going to join me there. Try not to be super obvious about it.”

“Yes, Dean.”

Dean taps the scrap of paper with the lady’s phone number, “good job.”

He walks away, not even needing to look back to know that Cas is watching him all the way until he turns the corner.

The wait in the stall itself is excruciating - Dean squeezes his cock through jeans and listens for footsteps. They come in, confident at first but then falter in awkwardness before stopping at his stall. He opens the door and drags Cas in, Cas’ hands immediately seeking his hips. Now that Cas has made contact, he can’t seem to stop touching Dean - his wide palms roaming Dean’s body aimless and warm. Dean lets Cas give him a kiss on the cheek and then maneuvers him against the wall of the bathroom - pushing Cas away and sinking to his knees. He unbuttons Cas’ pants and pushes his cheek against Cas’ palm - he looks up. Cas is staring at him, so serious and solemn as always.

Cas is so puppy in this fic... pure force of horniness aimed at Dean, being disciplined and coralled by him... I think that's the core of the Cas side of this dynamic. He doesn't have to worry about his own desires, because Dean is fully in charge of them and doling out pleasure as a reward.

“You have to be quiet, yeah?”

I feel like Dean is too germophobe neurotic boy to blow Cas in a pub bathroom but he's doing it FOR ME.

Cas nods and runs his finger through Dean’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly and Dean shivers.

He pulls Cas’ cock out of his underwear and sucks it down, still only semi-hard. He is in no hurry, keeping it in his mouth and sucking softly, enjoying the way it fills out gradually. Cas smells like himself and the laundry powder Dean washes his clothes with, and the shower gel Dean buys in bulk, Dean inhales deeply through his nose and feels a deep sense of reassurance.

Mommy kink moment. Dean looooves the sense of control he gets from being in a caretaker position.

The hard tile is painful against his knees, but there is nowhere he would rather be - he’s so pleased and proud. Cas has the ladies wrapped around his little finger and it’s all thanks to Dean. In this little world of their own, Dean luxuriates in the feeling of soft skin in his mouth, in the taste that is Cas. Bobs his head, watches Cas swallow moans and look down in wonder, flushed and overcome with sensation. Dean did that too.

Again, this fic has such a sweet tone to me... like obviously Dean is kind of unhinged but you know, he has built up a set of parameters that allow him to be sweet to Cas...

Dean can tell Cas won’t last long - he sticks his hand into Cas’ underwear, brushing his fingers through the bristly hair, feeling the weight of Cas’ balls against his palm. He pushes the pads of his fingers against the muscle behind them, rubs the rim of Cas’ asshole. Cas’ hand tightens in Dean’s hair and he comes, filling up Dean’s mouth.

Honestly could have done a bigger focus on the sensory information here - you only get the hair and the weight here. I do like to imagine that, though :3

Dean swallows what he can and wipes the rest off with his thumb. He lets Cas slip out and then leans his cheek against Cas’ thigh, watching his dick grow soft. He grips Cas’ ankle lightly and rubs his thumb against the delicate bone, plans what challenge to present Cas with next.

When he doesn't get his dick out <3 I do want to say here that this fic was inspired by Life Skills - which is a fic about Dean and Cas fucking women because they want to fuck each other but Dean is being repressed. I was interested in exploring Dean as someone who has a circuitous approach to sex with Cas for many nebulous reasons that are not easily solved. This fic is not clear on how openly Dean is dating Cas but in my mind they wouldn't stop doing this even if Dean was openly calling Cas his boyfriend and holding his hand in public or whatever. Having sex this way fulfills multiple functions for Dean and Cas really doesn't mind - he primarily cares about being the center of Dean's attention, which he absolutely is, here.

[alastorswifee]

could i please get some dating/nsfw jay headcanons or something?

❥ 𝓓𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓙𝓪𝔂 𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓮𝓻(𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲)

Minors DNI

- She/Her pronouns are used

~ Jay was shy at first when you both started getting intimate

He would overthink too much but it's because he wants to give you the best of the best

In his eyes, you deserve more than the world

~ Your first kiss had him in a daze but soon enough he's kissing you almost all the time

~ The first time you both made out? He's a bit of a mess but that's alright

He gets used to it and soon enough he wants to make out with you all the time, he's clingy and touch starved

~ Not only does he get more and more used to kissing and making out with you, he gets good at it

~ He's a touchy guy so whenever you two are making out, his hands would carefully roam, because of this he learns where to touch and what gets you going

"how does this feel babe?"

"J-Jay!"

~ He ended up getting a boner during a make out session and he mentally panics

Fuck he hopes and prays you didn't notice so he can deal with himself later

He's thought about letting you deal with him but was too shy and nervous to actually initiate anything with you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable

~ you did notice it tho, I mean how couldn't you take notice to something poking your thigh mid-make out session "fuck y/n I'm sorry!"

Imagine the look on his face when you offered to help him deal with his little problem

He couldn't have been happier but also nervous What if you judge his size or what he's like when in an intimate setting Granted he's a virgin but what if he does something embarassing

~ and that's how Jay got his first blow job

the feeling of your mouth around his cock was enough to make him cum..imagine how your-

anyways

~ you were a very generous partner, always dealing with him when he popped a boner whether its a blowjob or hand job

~one day while Jay was playing a video game he suddenly remembered that he has never returned the pleasure to you

after every orgasm you gave him, you'd always help him clean up but never has he returned the favor

he felt bad, terrible even

he decided to look up on what gets a girl going, if he's planning to go down on you he wants to do it right

~ one day after yet another blowjob, jay suddenly pushes you onto the bed with a small smile on his lips which took you back

"let me take care of you.."

Before you know it he's eating you out like a starved man on his last meal and oh god were you squirting everywhere

He's so smug about it, so proud of himself after leaving you in a hazy, quivering mess

"finished already? i barely touched you"

Jay please as if you didn't cum easily when she first sucked you off

"ohfuckohfuckohfuuuck!"

~ Fun Fact: Jay loves your pussy and he absolutely adores oral sex, giving and receiving

He's more of a giver than a receiver, loves watching what he can do to you and how well he does it

The more he does it, the better he gets and oh god is he confident in his tongue

~ Soon enough he'll bring up to you that he wants to go all the way and have sex with you beyond oral

Of course you agree

You both plan when it would happen because as a ninja he's always so busy and you both can almost never get a break

Plus you both wanted it to be romantic and passionate

~ When the day comes, he's actually just as nervous as he was when you were gonna give him his first blowjob

He came fully prepared with a condom and a confident attitude

~ He slides into you slowly and oh god he nearly cums right then and there

You feel amazing..way better than he had imagined

He maintains his composure tho and relaxes his body, pushing into you fully and giving you time to adjust

~ Holding your hand he starts moving, holding your hand tightly in his as he mutters your name mixed with curses over and over again

"y/n y/n, fuck fuck fuck.."

~ it's slow and gentle thrusts until you both cum, it feels even better than when you give him oral

as you're relaxing, your boyfriend would suddenly deliver another thrust much to your surprise

"can we go again?.."

you couldn't help but chuckle at the sheepish look on his face, how could you say no?

~ After the second round you're both laying next to each other breathing heavily

He wants your reassurance to ask how was it but he gets shy, he doesn't want you to think he wasn't confident

You pick up on it tho, noticing him fidgeting a bit with a nervous look on his face

You simply peck his lips and give him the reassurance needed and it became a habit, constantly praising and reassuring him

He always does a mental victory dance upon hearing the praises but on the outside he just gives you a goofy smile before kissing you

~ The next morning when you both wake up, Jay's holding you closer than ever to his body

Hands caressing your body as his soft breath can be felt against the area between your neck and shoulder

Once you two wake up fully, you two take a shared shower because according to Jay:

"it saves us water"

This leads to more than just a shower tho, you both having another round of passionate sex in the shower

~ Jay goes back to the bounty super smug tho cause he was the first of all the ninja to get laid, he's surely rubbing it in their faces

~ After that night goodluck keeping him off you cause he'll become almost obsessed with getting intimate with you

He never thought he'd like sex this much but there's just something about you that gets him going you know?

~ Fun Fact: one time you stayed over at the bounty, the next morning you walk into the kitchen wearing shorts and a tank top which resulted the other ninja seeing all your love marks

Imagine how smug he was about that

~ Jay's a switch if anything, he doesn't being under or on top you

He absolutely loves the effect he has on you, the way your body is so vulnerable under his when he takes you as his

He also adores seeing you on top him, tits bouncing, hips bouncing up and down as you fuck yourself with his dick

~ Jay absolutely loves you and your body, you're so beautiful in his eyes

you're such an angel, a goddess even

"you're so pretty..the prettiest"

"my gorgeous girl.."

he doesn't even know how he got lucky enough to have you in his life

whatever it was, he's thankful cause you're his and he's yours

Tags: @strahmslayer @rosiroleplays @crackedpumpkin

[theyanderespecialist]

Halloween Party Part 1 (Gift) Yandere Gyutaro X Chubby Girlfriend Marie (Demon Slayer)

[GIFT FOR MY LOVE MUFFIN And Co-Author~ LOVE YOU!!!]

@mamamaries

(No One's POV) 

Marie was on the phone with her boyfriend Gyutaro and wanted to be able to go to a Halloween party with him. But Gyuyato did not really like Halloween, mainly because he saw himself as a monster. But he wanted to make his girlfriend happy.  "Come on Mar, you know Halloween is not my thing." He says over the phone.  "Please," Marie says with a pout in her voice. "I got this dress made, I worked hard on it for my costume."  "Mar." He says.  "Please, Gyutaro, it would make me so happy. I really want to spend this party with you."  Gyutaro knows that his girlfriend loved Halloween so he could not let her down. "Sure. I will go."  "And can you please wear a costume?" She asks him.  "Mar."  "Please?" She presses and Gyutaro smiles.  "I will throw something together." He says.  "Thank you!" She giggles. "I have to go do my make-up! I will meet you there! Love you!"  They hung up and Gyutaro laid back on his back, phone on his chest. He loves her, he would have to throw something together. He thinks he will just wear his motorcycle helmet or hold it.  "Son." Doma's voice came. "Daki is going to be going on a date, do you have any plans?"  "I am going to a party with Marie," Gyutaro tells his stepdad.  "That is good." He says with a smile. "I will be staying in and handing out candy! Remember if you do anything to rubber up!"  "DOMA!" He shouts shocked. "I am Twenty! I am not planning on having kids!"  "Neither was your whore of a birth giver when she was sixteen." He says. "You and Marie have a whole future together, she is in beauty school, and she does not need a baby right now, no matter how much I want to have grandkids."  Doma has his hands on his hips. "Okay, Okay!" Gyutaro's face was red and he hid it into a pillow. 

"Good, now remember to be safe, and if you drink call me and I will drive you home. I do not need you getting in a crash, I don't care how late it is, or where you are call me."  "Okay, thanks..." Gyutaro says and Doma left to sort the candy for trick-or-treaters. 

-With Marie-

Marie was getting dressed and she was feeling fucking sexy. She did her makeup and looked at herself. Before she dyes her hair again she has it looking more like Jessica Rabbit's hair color. So she is taking advantage of it. She sized up a dress pattern that was like her dress and spent some of her paycheck on this wonderful fabric.

She is all done and then she goes with her roommate to the party. She would have driven with Gyutaro but she does not think her dress would be like the motorcycle. She is going to be staying the night at her friend's house. So she could drink a bit, she is 19 and is able to drink here in Japan. 

She got to the party it was just starting and she started to set up some drinks. Her friends compliment her dress and she grabs a drink. Just a shirely temple. She did not want to drink so early in the party. 

Soon the party is underway and Marie is worried that Gyutaro changed his mind then the door opens and she sees him come in. He is holding his helmet in his hand and walks in. His eyes land on Marie and his jaw drops.  Fuck... She was so fucking sexy, in her Jessica Rabbit costume~ She was way sexier than Jessica Rabbit. he walk over to her and smile. "Hey Mar." He says and leans down kissing her cheek. So he did not ruin her make-up so early in the party.  She smiles and looks at him. "I am happy you came." She says although she was not thrilled with his creativity in his costume.  "So you wa-" He was cut off when a classmate of Marie's walked over and pulled her away.  "Come on! I want to introduce you to my cousin!" She says and drags Marie away.  Gyutaro grabs a red solo cup of beer and whiskey and then waits for Marie to be done. Parties were not his thing. In high school, he only got invited if people wanted Daki to come. He hated how people looked at him, and the torment he got as a kid for being a monster. The teasing amped up during October.  He watched Marie like a hawk though. He knew she would not cheat, he trusted her. What or who he did not trust was those fucking men and women that are eye fucking her. The wimpy little man is staring at her chest right now. Gyutaro was watching but soon the guy who was staring at her chest made her laugh and giggle. Gyutaro was getting more jealous as he saw her place his hand on his chest and laughs at his joke. Gyutaro could not stand it anymore. He walked over to Marie and grabbed her hand, pulling her away.  He needed to show her, that she belonged to him and not some wimpy punk. He took her upstairs and she was confused. Once in the bedroom, she is pinned to the closed door and he kisses her in jealousy and possessiveness~ 

[The Second Part will not be posted because that is just for my love muffin to see!] 

[kanhapriya]

A KRISHNA SAKHI

But she'd still love him.

(Please listen to the song on a loop while reading)

2. Pratiksha

There were many ways in which he came to her.

Like the breeze, gentle and delicate and soothing as if he understood that nothing could bring her the feeling of solace that he did. Nothing but him was that serene to live.

He also came like the rain, dropping all over her body, places where she would only ever allow him, no one else. Like the rain, he carried an attractive melancholic ambience with him, just like the rain, he was erratic and captivating. Like the rain, he brought with him a distinct scent.

Sometimes, he was in the sunny sky, painful to bear but beautiful nonetheless. Like he was the giver of life and death, glowing so luminous for the whole world and somehow still just a sliver of his real light is perceptible to her.

The soil, he for sure was a part of. He'd let people walk on him but when it was too much, he halted his stillness and responded to what was must. He bore so much life, that no one could exist without him, his essence and true personality.

 

Moon too was just him in guise. When the moonlight would glow in her dark chamber, a small part of the room would light up. Those places were the ones he'd always sit on.

Her soul was him, a part of him. He was her himself. She knew he was every part of her, her mind, her heart, her body, her soul and all her features. He was her flowing hair, her black kohl and her sharp nose. He was her.

But her favourite way of him coming to her was when he was her Kanha, her Keshav.

He'd come to her in so many forms, yet Krishna was the one she could never oppose. 

In the form of Krishna, he met her so many times and never at the same time. He was Krishna but not the one she'd see in the crowd, not the one he'd see with Maiya Yashoda or Nand Baba or even Balram Dau. Not even his companions, or other girlfriends. He'd come to her like a Krishna she had never seen before and it stunned her each time.

He was blissful, ecstatic and euphoric all together when he came to her. As Krishna, when he'd step into her room through the window with his lotus-like feet, freshly smeared allta, she knew he'd leave behind traces, few more seeable than others.

When he'd come to her, Pratiksha would accept him in any form.

His hands would grip the periphery of her window on such nights, and she'd keep looking at him with learning eyes, how he must have lied to Maiya Yashoda about going out with his boyfriends. She'd look at him with mischievousness as he would hold the window for dear life.

"Sakhi, help me at least?" He would say out of weariness when sweat would wet his hair and he'd have to toil to keep them off his hair. Then he'd shake the sweat away, looking so lovely that she'd let him struggle. 

However, when he'd bumble a bit too much for even her liking, she'd approach him, slowly, a little tormenting retribution, out of pure devotion. She'd hold his hand, his fingers enveloped all around her wrist as he burdened her with his weight and finally climbed up her room.

After she pulled him up, he'd collapse just on her, not even allowing her to breathe, and she'd laugh the loudest she was allowed to without waking her parents. Sometimes she thought all of it was just a play to him, so she'd help him up and he'd catch her in his arms.

"Kanha, I'll die " she'd try to push him up as he just rested, "I'm too young right now."

"But Sakhi, " he would fake taking deep breaths.  "I'm too tired to move now."

"Come on, oh Nathkhat," she'd finally breathe ad he would lift some of his weight off  "Thank the lord, Narayana,"

He'd grumbled whenever she'd take the name of Lord Narayana, along the lines of, 'Literally in front of you,' but she would pay no heed to him.

When he finally stood up, he'd make himself relaxed on her bed, laying on it like a starfish, his exquisite redolence, colouring her room. She'd go and sit next to him, and using her chunri, she'd wipe the sweat off his forehead. He'd close his eyes but a smile would be present on his face.

He'd hold her wrist and stop the whole wiping thing after a while, "Come on now, Sakhi," he'd sit up, her wrist still in his hand, "I'm not here get coddled," he would roll his eyes, "Or I would've stayed with Dau or even Maiya."

She'd snatch back her hand, a smile threatening to come over but she hid.

"Then Why Are you here?"

"You tell me."

"Tell you what?" Her brows would turn up and he would ever so gently lift his fingers and ease them. Then she'd smile.

"Tell me, why do you let me in?" He would stand up from the bed then, and approach her dressing space, a small hand mirror placed there that he would pick up and make the moonlight reflect on her face, "Why do you let me trouble you almost every consecutive day?" 

She'd look at him, and he would raise his brows in question, and then She'd blush and look away at the moon every time.

"I let you in because-" she knew it was impossible to find the right answer to his inquiries, no matter how straightforward they were.

What could possibly be the reason if not him?

His smile, his complexion, his existence. Weren't they good enough reasons? Would she have to answer to the world as to why she would allow a not-so-ordinary cowherd boy into her room in the dead of night? Would she have to prove to the world her intentions to protect her laaj?

But those had been secondary issues then, Krishna being her prime. And She'd endure all the world's allegations if it went to be in his presence for a small while. 

"I let you in because I'm selfish." She'd answered truthfully, not caring if it would make her seem wrong. She was selfish enough to want him but it was the most selfless she'd ever been.

He'd look confused, though with a hint of mischief in his star-like thinking eyes, "Selfish?" 

Then he would approach her again, the mirror still in his hands as would sit in front of her, "I'd say, it's quite the opposite." He would raise his hands and tuck a stray piece of hand behind her ears, "Isn't it so, Sakhi? It's selfless."

She'd keep looking at him, the beauty of his beetle eyes capturing her into the slow trap he'd set up.

"It's love."

She'd not blink, how could she?  He would be in front of her and she'd be sinned if even a second was spent without his glimpse.

Her voice would be lost too, the thirst of her throat for water or words, she wasn't sure but she'd desperately need it.

There would be silence worth a thousand words in those few moments. Just Pratiksha and her love personified as a beautiful blue boy.

"Wouldn't you know so much about love?" There was yet again fun in her tone, something that she'd noticed only happened with him.

"Me?" He'd fake being surprised, "Don't be funny, my mohini. You know love so much better than me."

She'd entwine both their hands and kiss the back of his, the skin so soft and cold yet warm, just like she remembered. 

"Indeed I do." She'd look at him, tears overwhelming in her eyes, "For you are what I think is Love. And I know you,"

He'd smile then, not out of a trick or joke or fun poking but genuine, his tulsi smile, too pure, "Better than me?" He'd ask.

"Better than yourself." She'd nod with firm faith and he'd pull her in his arms and she would allow him, every night.

As she would lay on his chest, he'd soothe her mind with his soft head touches which would often lead to a dismantled hairstyle, but they'd ignore it and open the braid completely. 

Pratiksha would then take the hand mirror from him and keep it at a distance from them so she could not waste even a second by not seeing his face, which would also do wonders for his ego.

"I must say, " he'd say between the silence, "Your Lord Narayana must've blessed me with quite a beautiful counter face."

Till then, she'd be in an already deep trance most would call sleep but she would love. 

With no answer in return, Krishna would turn to the mirror to look at her reflection,  mostly finding her in a euphoric stance. 

He'd then allow himself to turn a little, not moving much but to face her. He'd trace the flower pattern above his eyebrows and on her forehead,  the one he'd only make each morning, before bidding farewell for the day.

It would be a comfortable routine for them, dancing through the day and enjoying a slumber together, with peace and silence. 

The next morning when she would wake up, her kahna would be awake too, mixing the fresh flowers he'd brought somehow, and readying the paint for their faces.

She'd stand up, laziness still deep in her body as she'd approach him, "How do you always wake up before me?"

Only then, he'd notice her presence and try not to laugh at her dishevelled appearance, "You look especially beautiful in the morning, priye."

She would be too tired to get angry at his jokes but just look at him who still looked like a world full of happiness and laughter.

She'd sit next to him on the seating in front of the mirror, looking at the colours he'd prepared. 

"Your hair is a mess, Sakhi, " he'd tug on her open hair, "Come, let me tie them."

She'd keep quiet and let him, as she would snuggle deep into her own embrace, the morning dew making her cold. He'd keep pulling some parts of her hair, braiding them as she'd just feel his fingers all through her hair.

After he'd made the hairstyle, as beautiful as all the waterfalls of the world, he'd turn her around, and bring a wet cloth to her face and wipe away all her sleep and paint from yesterday. 

"What flower do you want today, priye?" He'd pick up the bronze bowl with colour and a peacock feather, "What should I paint today?"

"Do as you wish," she'd look into his big dilated eyes, "I know it will look good."

He'd keep smiling as the peacock feather dipped into the white colour and the flowers and bela he'd start drawing. With each delicate stroke of the top, a petal would be created, and with every six petals, a flower would be complete. Like this, the hours would pass and they would read each other with love, colour and laughter. 

And once again, Pratiksha would be reminded that her favourite way of him coming to her was as Kanha, Krishna. 

The routine existed no more. 

Pratiksha no longer exists.

Neither did her room or her friends. 

Vrindavan too is gone now.

They'd cease to exist the day her Kanha had gone away forever. 

Now what existed wasn't what it used to be.

Vrindavan cried now, every second of her existence was spent with sadness now, her rivers bare, stripped of their waves and joy, her mountains, not stable enough to handle the loss of their favourite cowherd. 

No Gopi in Vrindavan truly smiled anymore. Smiles had faded into frowns just the way day faded into night, slowly, taking its sweet time.

And Pratiksha? She hadn't awakened in months.

She'd spent all her days just like she was right now.

As she lay motionless on her bed, her eyes were finished if all the tears she could hold in her two eyes.

Her heart was beating, not with life but with pain, misery and discontent and as she tried to stand up from the bed, her body gave up. Pratiksha was plagued by memories, plagued by him.

She finally gathered all her might, taking the support of the bed still to reach the window of her room.

The window.

It was still there, unlike him. That Makhan chor wasn't there anymore.

Each night, just like today, she would crawl up to the window still from where he would come to her. And just like today, she looked down there, no sign of him, no sign at all.

She would then sit with the support of the opposite wall, looking at her room, which was filled with him. From the floor to the ceiling to the wall to the flowers by her bed, all was him.

How was one to forget it all?

Now no one would climb up her window late at night, no one would beg her to help him up. No one would pretend to be exhausted and lay on top of her till she begged for mercy. No one would call her Sakhi anymore, not like he did.

She'd wait for him, penance endlessly to see his face again, to hear him laugh and giggle again, to hear the madhurya sound of his flute and hum along it once again. But he said he won't be back ever, that history was waiting for him. And who was Pratiksha to anger the immortal she?

But that didn't mean losing hope, right? No, she'd still wait for him. Wait for him to climb up the window yet again someday, and to call for her with the same amount of immense love. She'd wait till her teeth rot and her skin falls.

But right now, she'd cry tears of a lifetime, because her Keshav was gone.

Now she had to wake up alone, bed empty.  No one was there to caress her cheek, to lovingly stroke her hair and turn them into a mess. Neither would anyone wipe off her tiredness with a bare cloth. No one would be able to love her, no one but Kanha.

She had no one to look at now, through the hand mirror, no one to lay on the chest. No one would calm all her fears with a sleight of hand. No one would ever come close to the experience of him.

She wouldn't allow anyone to, no. Her love was only for Kanha. How dare anyone think that she'd forget her Shyam ever?

Krishna was in her, was her and forgetting herself wasn't a decision she was gonna make. She'd wait for her Kanha to come back one day, a year later, 5 years later, a decade later, a lifetime later. She'd stay.

But hey Narayana, for long would she have to cry for her Kanha? Would he never visit her now? Was that the last time she got to look at his face? Was that the last time she touched him, played with his soft fingers, rested in his lap and braided his long curly hair? Would he be able to live without her for so long? She certainly wouldn’t. 

Even thinking of spending a lifetime without getting lost in his dark beautiful eyes was a sin.

His flute, how would she not hear it at least once again? 

No, this was pure torture, and he was the ever-enjoyer.  She comforted herself with many arguments, one being that this was all a big joke, a text of her prem like he always did. But he had to come back. He had to or she would lose her mind.

Did he expect her to let go of this easily? Wasn't she his priye? Which honoured lover would leave his priye to spend a life long in wanting? No, he was Nirmohan but not to an extent that could kill her. He realised this, right?

Then Why did he cry that day, when he came for the last time? Why was he unable to keep his hands from shaking as he tied her braid with flowers? 'Param Shringar' he had called it, the most beautiful he'd made her ready.

He had painted her hand with the leftover flower and tears. 'It'll stay forever, a reminder of me in case you forget,' he had smiled with tears and kissed her palms, some paint on his lips too.

As she looked at her hand now, the smudged part was still visible after so long, the whole palm filled with colours, black and blue petals and flowers. 

He was gone, wasn't he?

A sob came up again, and Pratiksha didn't try to stop it. She sobbed as much as she could, loud and livid, her head throbbed with pain and exhaustion and nothingness and her Kanha. Where was that boy? Why wasn't he here, with her head in his lap? 

Her eyes longed to look at the face of her Nirmohan, oh how he was living up to the name.

He'd come to her as the breeze, uprooting all her beliefs and taking them away with him. As the wind, he would dry up her tears, when he physically couldn't. She'd still love him.

He'd come to her as the rain too, in her dull life, trying to some life to her death. He would fail miserably and then fall on her face as small droplets, mixing with her tears. She'd still love him.

These days, he'd shine less, not troubling her even more. He'd let her escape from his rays and feel more of his might and shine from wherever he was. She'd still love him.

When she would go on the bank of Yamuna to bring back water, he'd stuck to her feet, making her laugh for a second, but then she'd remember. She'd remember how she'd been like that too, the day he was going away. She'd still love him.

On nights, when she'd exhaust all her tears, he'd fall on her as the moonlight, emitting grace and his colour. That would make her cry again, but she'd still love him.

Her soul? It was already a part of his existence. Once he was gone, he'd take her with him. She'd still love him.

But her favourite form, her Kanha? Oh, how she missed. All night she would wait for the morning hoping he'd play his flute and declare it all a big crack. All day she'd wait for the night, so maybe, just maybe he'd climb up her window once again.

He'd disappointed her both times. 

She'd still love him.

She'd still wait for him.

When he would marry all his wives, she'd still wait and love him.

When he would finally become dwarkapati, she'd still wait and love him.

When he'd protect Draupadi from men and their sorts, she'd still wait and love him.

When he'd lead Arjuna to the war, and become his sarthi, she'd still wait and love him.

When old age would dawn upon and her hair turned grey with patience, she'd wait for death. 

And he would come to her, in her favourite form yet again, for the final journey. And she? She'd still love him. Because that was all she ever remembered. 

Loving him was her only memory.

[miksy63]

Boyfie

18+ MDNI

Tooth-rotting fluff, Izuku is a giver, Izuku x fem reader

Warnings: soft smut, slight dumification (I think)

Thinking about Deku in his mid-twenties…

Deku who still can’t believe he’s made it as a hero and now has more money than he knows what to do with. He spoils you rotten, using his money to buy you clothes, shoes and anything your little heart desires. You’re his pretty little girlfriend and anything you want, you’ll get.

He can’t help but stare at you on the dance floor, watching with  a lovesick gaze as he gushes drunkenly to his friends. Not caring that his buddies poke fun at his rambling, all he can think is “I’m so lucky” “She makes me so happy” “Isn’t she beautiful Kacchan??”.  Bakugou almost left the bar early just to escape the damn nerd’s constant chatter about you. Sometimes he would even joke that you had his friend under some kind of spell. Bakugou didn’t know how right he was to think that.

The delicate way you hold him and caress his scarred hands, letting him nuzzle into your chest after a long day patrolling and saving countless lives. He loves how you gently clean his scars and massage his sore muscles, and your poor attempts at hiding the worry that one day he might come back with more than a few scars, or that he might not come back at all.

Deku hates worrying you, his baby, his everything, his princess. Everything about you has him falling deeper under your spell.

But what charms him the most about you is how good you are for him, the way you let him spread you open and bully his way inside your plush heat. He groans, pressing into you with his weight and making your body heat up when he draws circles into your clit. Fucking you so good, making your mind hazy, “just relax honey, it’s okay”, he pounds into you so hard, only focused on making you feel good. 

Gazing into your eyes with so much love it’s overwhelming “let me take care of you baby” you let him love you just the way he likes. All you can do is let out small moans and whimpers “l-love you…Izu, please”. He loves it when you’re like this, his adorable sweetheart crying out for her “Zuku”, begging him to take care of her, to love her. And who is he to deny you? Not when you beg so nicely, your soft lips curling sweetly as you quiver and shake under him.

Deku who, after he’s filled you up, his cum slowly leaking down your thighs and your pussy shaking, pampers you. He effortlessly lifts your body to set you on top of his chest, stroking your back and waiting patiently for you to come back to him. “My pretty girl…so good f’me” he praises you endlessly, whispering words like silk in your ear. He rubs your whole body down in the shower, caressing you delicately and massaging your favourite lotion into your skin afterwards. His strong arms carry you, now clean and dressed in one of his t-shirts back to the bed, setting you down carefully. 

Deku who curls his massive body around your smaller one, burying you in his chest, softly kissing your forehead as you fall asleep, promising to always be there, to be your hero. No matter what, he’ll always spoil his baby, because in his eyes, nothing he gives you could ever be enough to repay the gift of your love that is sweet and pure, the little things that make his eyes sparkle with the brightest smile. Deku who's under your spell and hopes you never let go.

Just Deku who’s so boyfriend-shaped…

This is my first time writing smut and I think it's right that I tried with Deku.

I'm also surprised that I don't completely hate it lol. <3