#should I tag suggestive cause of his shirt or not.

[lyn-ne]

idk. can I count this as anatomy practice?

[kykyonthemoon]

Breakfast

You knew he was dangerous. You knew that you should stay away. But when you found Sylus in the kitchen, making breakfast, he reminded you of what happened between the two of you the night before and you comprehended you had made a bargain with the devil, again.

── .✦ Sylus x Female Reader|MC

── .✦ Tags: R16, MDNI, suggestive themes, biting & marking, drunken kissing & flirting, hangover, pet name - kitten.

── .✦ Word count: 2k3

── .✦ A/N: This story is based on a dream I had after watching the new patch stream on July 6.

This fic also won the Merit Prize from Love and Deepspace Version 2.0 Opposing Visions | Fan Art Contest. I really appreciate all your support on my X <3

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

You awoke in the midst of a haze. You had a vague impression that the blanket was both warm and soft, with a subtle aroma that you had only of late learnt to recognize. You tossed and turned, sliding back and forth on the enormous bed, unable to see the edge. When you rolled your entire body to the opposite side of the bed, you saw that the vacant area was still quite warm.

As if woken, you rose up, brushing aside the matted hair that had fallen in front of your face. Your body felt painful and exhausted. Your head continued whirling. You realized you were wearing a black shirt that was too large for your size. The aroma on the garment was comparable to the position next to you on the bed. You grabbed your head, trying to recall why you were here in the first place.

Sylus' exquisite chamber emerged before your eyes in the gentle dawn light. You blinked. That's right! You had attended an important party, with Sylus' help, the night before. Rather, it was another in a long line of similar deals between you and him, with an unexpected cost. You got what you wanted, but the amount of liquor you drank there left you disoriented. The party ended with you lying in Sylus' arms, seeing him smirk as he looked down at you and said:

“Such a kitten who never knows when to stop.”

Then everything went dark. You could only barely feel Sylus' strong arms wrapping around your body, as well as the warm blanket that surrounded you before you fell asleep.

But as for why you slept in Sylus' room, wearing his shirt…

You tumbled out of bed and walked into the bathroom to wash your face. Cold water helped you become awake. You then glanced at yourself in the mirror. Your hair, which had been pulled up high with several decorations, was entirely removed and fell down. Aside from the shirt you wore, you had immense and tiny red markings all over your body, from your lips and chin, down to your neck and chest. You used extra water to wash your face in an attempt to remove all of those marks, but it simply made them appear more vibrant on your skin.

Your fingertips traced each mark. This one brought to mind an image of Sylus burying his face in your neck. The mark on your ear reminded you of how softly he bit you. There were also marks on your wrists from the force he used to pin you down on the bed.

You exhaled. Memories were slowly returning to you, and they concerned you. You were not terrified of Sylus; rather, you were afraid of the situation you had created the night before. You cautiously opened the door, as if you were afraid that someone was waiting outside to catch you in this kind of situation.

You intended to return to your room, where Sylus had allowed you to remain temporarily while you were here. But after only a few steps, the scent from the kitchen caused your feet to shift direction.

The aroma of breakfast being served made your tummy grumble. But when you heard the faint humming and saw his enormous back obstructing your view of the food, you turned and walked away.

"Kitten is awake now. Wouldn't you come in for breakfast?"

You halted. You did not want to see him immediately after what occurred the night before, but perhaps he had been waiting for you to get up since dawn.

When you returned to the kitchen, Sylus faced you. He wore a crimson and black silk nightshirt. It was not tight, revealing his bare chest, which you were unable to keep your gaze away from since there were several red marks going from his chest deep down to his stomach, even some on his neck. There were other ones that appeared to be scratches.

Knowing where your eyes were focused on, Sylus smirked. Seeing that, your face grew crimson and felt hot, as if you were being cooked on the stove. You instantly looked away, attempting to act normal.

“Good morning… Did you… sleep well?…”

Sylus pulled the bacon off the heat source. Based on the ingredients on the counter, you assumed he was cooking Eggs Benedict. He answered you sarcastically:

“I did not sleep well at all. Since there was a kitten who loved to scratch me so much."

“What kitten?” You claimed to be ignorant in the face of evidence that showed you had slept in Sylus' bed the night before, and were responsible for the markings on his body.

How did things end up like that? You opposed Sylus. And he was just brilliant at driving you insane. He was dangerous. He stood on the other side of the battle. Even if working together with him was simply a temporary solution for both of your concerns, rolling around in bed together and leaving markings on the other's skin was utterly beyond your expectations. You softly bit your lower lip, condemning yourself for allowing things to spiral out of control. While Sylus only grinned casually:

“And yet I thought that the girl who had the courage to pin me down on the bed and leave her marks on my body would have the courage to admit what she did?”

At the moment, you did not know how to face this with as little disruption as possible. Of course, Sylus would not let you escape so quickly. You wanted to go home and keep your distance from him.

“I… am not sure I did what I did on purpose.” You responded. The current circumstance was not good at all, for you. You attempted to remain cool and added: "Besides, don't you have the ability to heal yourself?"

Sylus stared down at his body, then back at you, the corner of his mouth curled up again as if he had just done something sinister.

“Of course I have to leave evidence, in case you deny it like you are doing now.”

You were briefly perplexed and failed to say anything else. Then you suddenly realized you were also his victim. You stepped up to him at the kitchen counter and pointed to your neck.

“What about these? They are also evidence against you!”

Sylus laughed. His warm fingers on your skin sent a shiver down your spine. It was a feeling that, although not inherently awful, was exceedingly treacherous. Treacherous as you began to like it.

"A mark for a mark." Sylus teased you. His fingers traveled to the back of your neck, and the index finger rested on your chin, softly separating your lips and pushing you to gaze up at him. "If you believe it is a crime, what would you do? Lock me up, Miss Gorgeous Hunter? After you took advantage of me to get into that party, got very drunk, and vomited all over the dress I purposely chose for you? After I brought you back here, and you continued to take advantage of my body in that manner?”

You hastily pushed Sylus' hand away. “I was drunk, you were too… It was simply an accident… Can we make it clear?”

Sylus snorted coldly and turned away. The poached eggs required his attention. You did not recall or were acting like that. The previous night, you were the only one who had been drinking.

After the party, Sylus took you home. He had meant to let you relax, but as soon as you went by his private room, you freely opened the door and walked in.

“This is not your room, kitten.”

But you did not listen. You removed your high heels and flung them at Sylus. Then you began wandering back and forth in his room, as if you were searching for his secrets.

Sylus clicked his tongue and stood with his arms folded, waiting to see what you would do. He had to catch you after seeing you stumble around and collide with things in the room. He sat you on the sofa, unlocked the wardrobe, chose a clean shirt of his and threw it on the seat next to you.

“Get changed. Don't dirty my room anymore."

You grinned and took up his shirt to examine it for a moment. Then you tossed it back to him. 

"Help me..."

Sylus rolled his eyes at you before focusing on the clothing in his hand. You rose up, stumbled closer to him, and turned away, pointing at the back zipper of the garment. 

"Help me get changed." You repeated.

Sylus slightly raised the corners of his lips. He slowly pulled the zipper down. Since your body was constantly moving back and forth, his fingertips came into contact with your bare back. You chuckled. While looking at you from behind, he quietly placed the part of his finger that just touched you on his lips and chuckled.

“Be still.”

After helping you get out of your dirty dress, Sylus put his shirt on you, turned you around and helped button it. He did not dispute that while you were displaying your stunning features to him, his gaze lingered on your body for longer than was appropriate. You were simply wearing a set of undergarments beneath his shirt. His hands paused on the final two buttons, debating whether or not to assist in concealing your lovely cleavage behind that shirt.

You grabbed Sylus' wrists and gazed up at him. His throat became dry. You said while drowsy:

“Bed… I want your bed…”

You gestured in that way. His bed was obviously much larger and softer than the one in your room. Sylus drew a breath and bent down to lift you up in his arms. He brought you to the bed and placed you down. 

"You have asked for so much today. Aren't you concerned you won't be able to pay the price?"

“I… can pay!” You boldly declared. As soon as Sylus rose up to depart, you grabbed his arm and pushed him down onto the bed. 

So you started kissing him.

It could not be denied that there were times, many times, during the party that night, you longed to drag him to a corner and kiss his lips until he suffocated. Or you. Either one of you.

How that night ended was still something you could not remember. When you stood in the kitchen with Sylus the next morning with rosy cheeks and body covered in kiss marks left by him, feelings of regret and guilt began to engulf you. You started it first, and Sylus gladly granted your wishes. How long had you been intending to get closer to him? You could not believe why, in a moment of rashness, you could make such a severe mistake. It was not like you were not aware of who the person you pinned down on the bed was or how dangerous he was.

“I… You…” You hesitated. “I really— Ouch!”

Before you could continue speaking, you felt Sylus lift you up and set you on the kitchen counter. His hands were positioned on both sides of your thighs, and his body was forced against you, making it hard for you to escape.

"Stop trying to deny it." His crimson eyes glowed as if he were sulking. Your throat dried up and your mouth became silent when he got this close. Your gaze remained fixated on Sylus' lips, unwilling to leave. He said:

“Let me tell you what happened last night. You kissed me. You scratched me. Then you fell into a deep slumber. As for me, I remained awake since my bed was occupied and I was held and weighed down all night long."

You breathed a sigh of relief, seeming to be at ease and disappointed. Between Sylus and you, nothing had escaped your control or the approval of your rational mind. You might perceive what happened the night before as a mistake that could be fixed. Yet all of a sudden, Sylus' grasp on your hip tightened, and his other hand curled around the back of your head, forcing you to lean back slightly. He gazed at you with a mysterious smile on his lips, making you feel as if you had just fallen into a tangle from which you could not escape.

“Are you going to remain silent and ignore your responsibilities? I still have the evidence on me. You cannot deny that you want me. Yes? No?"

When you regained consciousness, you understood exactly what should and should not be done. Even that was unable to prevent you from thinking about how you fell into Sylus' arms and how he would never turn you down. Given the kiss marks and scratches you left on his body that were visible, how badly must you have yearned for him that night? How about the time before that? And for the time being? Sylus' charm had you wrapped around his fingers. This feeling might be fleeting or it could last forever. It terrified you and left you unsteady. But if Sylus was down in that deep void, you were willing to plunge in, as long as he was there to catch you. 

Sylus learnt he had won the instant he noticed your yearning eyes. He grinned as separated your lips again, asking:

“My precious lady, what price do you wish to pay this time?”

You assumed that in this trade, you would not be at a disadvantage. You deliberately leant towards Sylus, gently biting his lips before pulling away to await his reaction.

Satisfied with your answer, Sylus smirked. His fingers caressed your bottom lip before pushing forward to devour it in the way he had craved since he had ever found you.

[teamatsumu]

compression. (sakusa kiyoomi x reader)

summary: atsumu is the perfect person to feed your obsession with kiyoomi’s arms.

word count: 1172

warnings: swearing, very mildly suggestive (if you squint), detailed descriptions of kiyoomi’s arms in compression sleeves so it’s not for the faint hearted

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

When you studied Marketing and Communications in university, you didn’t exactly anticipate that your future would include you managing a V League Division 1 sports team. But every day when you went into work, you thanked the gods above that this is where your career path had led you, because that meant you could ogle Sakusa Kiyoomi and his infamous compression sleeves all day.

Oftentimes you were certain Kiyoomi didn’t mean anything by them. For him, they were practical. They kept his arms taut and ready for the ball. They made his movements sharper. He received the ball better. He didn’t have to feel his bare skin on the dirty court. These were all reasons you had heard straight out of his mouth. When you heard him mention them so nonchalantly, it almost made you feel bad for the absolutely sinful- borderline deranged- thoughts you had in your head about the way those sleeves made his arms look.

You were well aware of the kind of thoughts Kiyoomi’s choice of athletic wear caused among his fans. To put it simply and bluntly, they went feral over it. There were whole Twitter accounts dedicated to just his arms, or his chest. And as someone who often managed social media profiles for some of the members, you got to see the most unhinged of these comments with your own two eyes. And you would be the first to (secretly) admit that you agreed with 90% of what was being said, because holy shit did those sleeves do something to you.

Most of the time during practice, you could feel your eyes drift back over to the man in question, wearing a black sports tee and those godforsaken sleeves, working up quite the set as they played set after set to prepare for their next game. As the hours passed, Kiyoomi would get more and more disheveled, curls becoming unruly enough that he would grab a towel, biceps flexing as he ran it over the nape of his neck and dipped into the collar of his shirt. Christ almighty.

You should’ve known that you would eventually get caught. But if it was anyone who would notice, you had expected it to be Meian or maybe Coach Foster. But the person who did bring it up to you happened to be the biggest nightmare in this scenario; Miya Atsumu.

“Ya should be a little less obvious ‘bout it.” He commented when he trudged over to the bench where you sat, grabbing a water bottle and beginning to chug. You tore your eyes from Kiyoomi who now had his back to you, the muscles under his shirt flexing with every movement. You raised an eyebrow at the blond, not yet correlating his words with your hidden obsession. He placed the bottle down and placed a hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.

“A blind grandma could notice the way yer lookin’ at him.”

Your eyes widened and cheeks flamed when he nudged his head in Kiyoomi’s direction, and you knew you had been caught. You clenched your jaw hard.

“You say a single word-”

He threw his hands up as if in surrender, effectively silencing your threat in its tracks.

“I won’t, promise! But there is one thing…..”

You groaned loudly, throwing your head back. Of course, of fucking course he would blackmail you with this.

“What do you want?” You deadpanned, glaring at him and preparing for the worst.

Atsumu looked a bit affronted, as if the mere insinuation that he might want something was preposterous to him. You gave him another tired look, until he sighed and gave up, plopping down heavily on the bench next to you.

“A phone number. Ya know that cute girl who comes by once a month? From the Volleyball Association?”

“No.”

Atsumu’s mouth dropped like a child who just got slapped. “Hey c’mon! Ya didn’t even hear me out!”

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a characteristic frontal headache begin to build, courtesy of Miya Atsumu. “I’m tired of setting you up with people, Tsumu! It won’t end well, as always-”

“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with his compression sleeves.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “I can get hundreds of those off the internet.”

“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with just his compression sleeves.”

That made you halt in your tracks. You searched Atsumu’s face for any form of mockery or lie, and you found none. Your eyebrows shot up when you realized he was being serious.

“In the locker room. I can get it for ya today.”

Oh my god. Instinctively, your eyes darted over to the man in question, who was talking to Hinata about something. It looked like volleyball tips since he had his arms before him in a receiving position, and Hinata was rapidly nodding to what he was saying.

“No.” You shook your head. “No, that’s wrong.”

“I’ll take a selfie with him, yeah? He will know there’s a photo. And I can send it in the groupchat.”

You look back at Atsumu, seriously contemplating his offer. He kept yapping, as per usual, thinking that the more he talked, the likelier it would be to convince you. And the bastard was right, it was working.

“No one else will bat an eye. We see each other in the lockers all the time. No big deal.”

You bit your lip in thought. The possibility of seeing Kiyoomi shirtless and only in compression sleeves had your pulse rising.

“And you just want her number in return?”

Atsumu nodded eagerly. You gave him a narrow-eyed glare.

“Send the picture. Then I will give you the number.”

His triumphant grin made it feel like he had already won. “Deal.”

That evening, when your phone pinged with a text notification, you nearly flew across the bed to grab it, opening the picture Atsumu sent in the groupchat with eager fingers and freezing as soon as you laid eyes on it.

Atsumu had held up his end of the bargain spectacularly.

He had taken the picture with Kiyoomi a little further in the background, so he could get the man’s full torso in it. He was facing slightly away from the camera, but his face was turned towards it, capturing the scowl between his eyebrows and the little pout of his mouth. He was gloriously shirtless, still a bit sweaty from practice, and he held his shirt in his hand, one arm flexed as he held it while the other was held carelessly by his side, compression sleeves hugging the cords of toned muscles just right.

There was another ping, pulling you out of your trance and making you realize just how dry your mouth had gotten. Atsumu had messaged you privately.

“My payment? ;)”

You rolled your eyes and sent him the number, immediately going back to the picture and starring it for future reference, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of your lip as you did so.

[takes1]

i would literally sell my soul for more asahi smut(or literally anything tbh)

- (your stuff is actually so good bro. keep it up💯💯)

p.1 asahi getting rough with petite!reader

thank you!!! 😭❤️man, asahi is the most perfect character for some of my fav tropes ughh he's such a sweetie

warnings. nsfw themes. recreational use of alcohol. minors DNI

details. nsfw / fem!reader / manager!reader / short!reader / rough play! fetish / mutual size kink / mutual crushing / playfighting / version of spin the bottle / suggestive wrestling / asahi is a gentleman / inappropriate hard-ons / sitting on asahi's shoulders / houseparty / tipsy!asahi / lightweight!suga / 2.4k words / two-parter, reply to be tagged for next nsfw part

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part two here.

"Aawww-!" Was a chorus of giggly groans throughout the little circle of Karasuno players. Your bottle landed on what was undeniably Asahi.

It filled Daichi's living room, which had been completely rearranged to make room for a friendly fight circle. As their more reserved manager, you decided that you shouldn't partake in a bottle-spinning, play-fighting, testosterone-pumping, sweaty activity at the start of the night.

"That's not a fair fight!"

After a few drinks and watching multiple rounds, you began to adopt an unfounded confidence that you'd be able to win one of these silly wrestling matches.

The name of the game was to keep a volleyball in your arms at the end of a three-minute timer. The trick, for most, was to take on their opponent, tire them out, and turtle over the ball in the last 10 seconds.

It seemed doable from your comfy spot on the couch, when you watched Tanaka prevail over Ennoshita, or the energetic match between Hinata and Nishinoya. When you volunteered to go, you were sure you could take anyone. But Asahi? He was arguably the most formidable opponent.

"Noo, let her fight Yamaguchi!" Suga was beet-red from his one drink, clinging to Daichi at the reveal that your match was against tonight's three-time Champ.

"Yamaguchiii!" He called, giggling, but you shook your head.

You didn't want to fight somebody that wasn't a challenge. If Asahi was #1, then Yamaguchi was #12. Bottom of the bracket.

Asahi glanced around the circle of guys telling him not to, already unsure if he should accept this turn, and to let you try fighting somebody your size, first.

"Hey, hey, now-!" Daichi tried to quiet the uproar and laughter, grinning, "Let her -hhaha- let her decide!"

Now that everyone had their own opinions, somewhat sharing the sentiment that if you fought, you'd suffer a terrible loss, your delusion grew a bit out of proportion.

You stood and passed your drink to Yachi. She gasped and grabbed your shirt as if you were a sacrifice. The room fell quieter, except for the failed, muffled laughter against elbows and hands.

"I'll take him!" You asserted, "And I'll win."

Cheers, applause, noise of all kinds preceded the start of some bets. Asahi grew warm at all the attention, and the pushing, and the teasing. If he lost, nobody would ever let him hear the end of it.

"You just gonna let her talk to you like that, bro?!" Nishinoya called.

He was snickering at his best friend's face, money already on you winning. All Asahi had to do was stand up for the guys to start 'Ooooh'ing, and for you to feel much, much smaller.

You were safe and across the circle, the game hadn't started yet, but as he pulled his hair up into a bun, you started sweating. He won his match with Kageyama by real wrestling, the one with Suga was more of just tiring his opponent out, and the one with Narita was won by brute-forcing the ball out of his grip.

Those weighty arms naturally flexed, moving to grab the elastic from between his teeth to tie it up. After enough jabs from Suga and Daichi, he realized he needed to verbally respond to your challenge.

Lightly buzzed, and not as shy about the reality of the fight, "I'm not goin' easy on you just 'cause you're tiny."

Now you had to beat him. You felt the fury of generations, notably Nishinoya, who was clambering over other guys to join your corner at the clear rage-bait.

"You better beat his ass for that!" He screamed over the delighted whoops and cheers.

Daichi resumed his ref-spot, ball in hand, as you both made it to the center of the circle.

You came up to his chest. He cocked his head down at you, a subtle endearment to his eyes, like he was admiring a small animal-- it was underestimation, an intimidation tactic for sure.

"Good," You muttered, a narrowed gaze at your opponent.

Daichi placed the ball on the floor between you and backed up before starting your time.

Asahi kicked it to the edge of the circle, disinterested in a game of keep-away. It wasn't advantageous to grab now, so you engaged him.

After watching enough of his matches, you knew he went low, first, so you stayed much, much lower.

It hardly served you. Any offensive move to take him just wasn't forceful enough, and you found yourself soon trapped once he got a hold of you.

And once he did, it felt like you would never be able to escape. The way he knew how to move you around was incredible- forget about his power, you couldn't even defend against his technique.

It also didn't take a lot of guessing to know what was compromising, and what wasn't- the team was vocal about what you needed to do, which prevailed mostly as different versions of 'Run away.'

40 seconds in, he readjusted his grip to something twisted, unnatural, and you were about three steps behind when he completed the move and pulled you up.

His arms were around your waist, your legs in the air, as he came up to a kneel.

"Ah!" You squealed, world turned upside-down.

You locked your legs around his shoulders, squeezing hard, but it didn't help you as he stood up onto his feet.

"Oh- shit-!!"

"Yoooo!"

"Asahi, take it easy!!"

Your fingertips couldn't make it to the floor- you weren't sure that you wouldn't hit your head, even if they did. His body was so hot against your back, his sheer strength such a shock, it stole your senses for a moment.

"Uh! Ref! Ref! That can't be legal!" Yachi pointed.

"Technically," Daichi took a moment to puff his collar with air, scanning the 'legality' of it, "Uh- it's... allowed."

You had never been so grateful to be wearing a bra. Your shirt didn't come all the way up, but you still took a second to tuck it before gripping your way to a curl-up.

At the top, you grabbed the back of his neck. It earned a strong grimace.

It served him right, since he was making a mockery out of you.

"Mmmh- sorry," Asahi spared you an apologetic look, even letting you finish tucking in your shirt before moving to a different position.

It was all in all, a lot of time, sitting up on his shoulders. It earned many, many whistles and half-vulgar expressions that Daichi had to quiet down.

"You good?" He cracked himself up a little with the question, unable to look anywhere but between your legs. You could feel his warm panting against you and tried not to think about it.

"Mhm."

It was curt, beyond embarrassment at this point. You wanted a fighting chance to touch the ball. If he kept you up here, you wouldn't be able to try.

If you had been one of the guys, he might've been a little less gentle letting you onto the floor. Still, he kept you down and wasted no time to pull himself free from your thighs, then pin you on your back.

He sat on your hips. It seemed so lame, and simple, but you couldn't lift yourself out from under him. You were getting weaker just by trying.

It was worse when he looked you in the eye, a little too sweet, as if he wasn't even thinking about the match.

The only thing that saved you was the time running out. You had just one minute left and still hadn't touched the ball.

"Asahi, get the damn ball!" Suga hollered, now on his second drink.

He sat back a little, glancing around for it- it was enough weight displacement to yank a leg out. He was still deciding between keeping you down and grabbing the ball. You were able to take advantage of the indecision and fly towards it, just before him.

And you were exhausted, hugging it close to your chest, huffing with a kind of tired you hadn't quite known before.

Spite was the only thing you ran on, at this point. Your muscles were screaming with fatigue, your breath shallow and rapid, making your forearms a little slick from condensation.

Eyes screwed shut, you couldn't help but squeak at the sound of him upon you- he was so scary, you finally understood how other teams could get intimidated by the way he played in matches.

"30 seconds!! (Y/n)!" Nishinoya bellowed, "Just 30 seconds!! Hold it!!"

His big fingers were digging, slowly but surely prying like steel under your arms. Every time he spared a moment to readjust, you squeezed harder and impeded his progress, so it forced a different approach.

A forearm barred against the front of your hips, stalling your breath for a moment- once he had a grip around you, he completed the hold and dropped his shoulder to the floor.

And in one, big groan against your ear, he curled, flipping you on top of him.

"Noooo-!!" Nishinoya and Yachi watched along in horror.

You braced, a simple cry all you could make, knowing that you were done for. You lay face up- your back against his chest, the only thing keeping the ball in your possession was a weak arm hold.

Asahi didn't instantly go for it, though.

He crunched his legs up in lock, prying yours down with shameful ease. It must've been some form of showmanship, to truly have you trapped.

The labored rise and fall of his chest moved your whole upper body, yet another enticing reminder that he eclipsed you in size. You could've sworn he was laughing.

Before he could take the thing out of your hands, you chucked it all the way across the circle.

"Oooooh!!"

"Ten seconds! Ten seconds!"

You both scrambled away from each other to grab the ball. For once, you had a head start and started pulling yourself towards it.

A grip on your ankle, just before you could close the distance, dragged you backwards in a comical slide.

"Aah-h-!!" You yelped again, all your progress lost, all your hope fading as he climbed over you.

But he couldn't quite reach the ball. He was weighing you down to keep you from moving.

Now faced with the reality you wouldn't win, you refocused all your effort on keeping him away. You quickly got into more of a sprawl to keep his hips further back while he was distracted, nails digging into his big, outstretched forearm with a strangled, but determined groan.

He quickly silenced you by bringing that arm back, crushing it underneath your combined bodies in an unintentional choke.

The fingers on his other hand were dancing against the ball. You were able to twist, just barely, to snake your hand to his bicep and force a subtle bend at the elbow.

"Time!"

It was such a cathartic experience. For about 3 seconds. As long as it took for you to both stop bracing.

After that, your heart was pounding for a very different purpose. Though you had been able to shove your dirty thoughts to the side in the name of sportsmanship, the position you finished in was pornographic and you quickly felt a throbbing between your thighs.

"Ahhh-- fuck-!" He groaned, heavy and burning hot against your neck, "You're- Mm, you were good."

You winced at the sensation and the tired, grumbly bass in his voice.

Your legs had the outside disadvantage, knees spread wide in another dismal effort to remain low. His hips were crammed against the back of yours, allowing you to feel the indisputable bulge pressed tight against your cunt.

What made it worse was that you couldn't move until he took his weight off, and he was so tired that it took him longer than you to catch his breath.

His forearm slid off of your neck and he finally muscled himself up. It left you a bit weak, wobbly, sort of needy for that weight on top of you again.

What may have felt like a few million years was, in reality, only a few more seconds. Nobody noticed, or they at least weren't pointing it out, in favor of teasing him for not finishing the match.

"A tie, dude?!"

"Rematch! Rematch!"

"I know you're not tired!"

Since you were the underdog, you were spared of such disparaging comments. You had, after all, gotten the closest to winning against him. A tie was satisfying in its own right.

"--if he wasn't so damn distracted-,"

Suga's disappointed mutter to Daichi caught your attention as you took your place back on the couch next to them. You leaned forward and stole his attention right away.

"Not that I wasn't rooting for you!" He clarified. "It's just that--,"

Daichi cleared his throat, very loudly, twice, with a wide stare towards his friend. That was not his secret to tell.

"Right... right."

There was no time, no room to ask another question, because Asahi carefully walked the perimeter of the circle to get to Daichi. He squatted in front of him. They began talking in covered whispers. They exchanged a few back-and-forth's.

It ended in Daichi dapping him up, a big grin on his face. He patted his back, hard but friendly, and made some room so he could exit the makeshift perimeter.

You figured that was the end of it, and started to collect yourself as he hopped over the back of the couch. Kageyama was taking on Tsukishima in a heated, technically complicated match. Now, you had some sympathy because you were still unable to shake the indescribable shock of getting pinned.

It felt eerily similar to the jolt you got from his big, warm hand back on your shoulder.

When you turned to look at him, he was a bit flushed. So modest, considering how rough he had just been with you.

"You wanna come help me with somethin'?"

"Sure!" You glanced around his kind, but gruff features and couldn't figure him out.

He let you use his shoulders to steady yourself as you also climbed over the back of the couch. It was sweet, and it would've been scarier without his help.

"What's up?" You spared a look back to Daichi and Suga, who were grabbing and shoving each other in excitement, and tried to lighten him up a little with a playful shove on the stairs, "You want a rematch?"

It didn't move him at all. Sharing a laugh, he joked, "Uhh, well- kind of."

☆VIP☆

@integers @yuchacco

taglist:

none! reply to be tagged for part two!

my masterlist. more asahi

[sttoru]

toji making suggestive comments towards reader infront of newborn megumi, then reader getting mad at him telling him to never do it again 😭😭

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff + suggestive themes. reader gets called ‘mama’.

“don’t start.”

you knew it — just by taking one glance at your husband from your seat at the couch — you knew toji was up to no good. his hands in the pockets of his shorts, eyes half lidded whilst checking you out and the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing grin; he was seconds away from making inappropriate comments about you, to you.

“ain’t said nothin’ yet.” toji shrugs, smirk still in place. he sits down next to you on the couch and looks down at the baby who was curled up on your chest.

it was an adorable picture; to see the mother of his child being so nurturing and caring, so loving and content. it was an every day sight, yet those mundane moments intensified the urge to take you to the bedroom and shower you with his. . . affection.

megumi babbles something in the meantime, his saliva creating a wet spot on your shirt — which you don’t mind since you’ve gotten used to it, “what is it, ‘gumi? hmm? cutie.”

you giggle and tickle your little son gently. your focus was entirely on him instead of toji, who had already snuck an arm around your waist by the time you realised the proximity. his breath tickled your ear;

“you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, mama.”

you gasp in response. not at the seductive and flirtatious words your husband had whispered, but rather at the fact that he cussed in front of megumi. you made it a household rule — to try and swear less in front of your child. and yet there toji goes, breaking that rule a week after its made.

“toji. what’d i say about cussing in front of your child?” you warn with a glare, but that does nothing more than turn toji on more. he loved it when you bossed him around or had an attitude.

megumi’s babbles and coos had died down eventually. he was more engrossed by the way his parents were interacting in front of him. you didn’t seem as ‘happy’ with toji’s words, however, and that made the emergency alarms in the little baby’s head go off;

“bwah! bwah!” megumi’s smacks toji’s thigh with his tiny hand. the impact wasn’t rough, but the sound of the slap on toji’s bare skin sure made it seem like it was.

you grin as megumi comes to your ‘rescue’. the small slaps didn’t seem to stop until toji gave up and defeatedly redrew from you—scooting just a few inches away from his son and wife.

“got what you deserved.” you lightheartedly comment to your husband. megumi didn’t seem to stop there; the kid sticks his tongue out towards his father’s direction for a split second—rubbing salt into the wound.

“watch it, megumi. i’ll fight ya if it means i get y’r mommy’s attention.” the dark-haired man jokes with a smirk tugging at his lips, his fist gently and carefully making contact with megumi’s chubby cheek. the little boy huffs and instantly tries to nibble onto toji’s knuckles, which was incredibly adorable.

“oh-ho? seems like i finally have an opponent worth fighting. .” toji comments before lifting his hands up in the air, fingers bent at the knuckles, teeth bared — re-enacting a scary monster creature of some kind,

you watch the two with amusement; megumi wasn’t backing down at all and was flailing his arms in the air as toji slowly approaches him again, making tiny noises in protest. your husband was also making some noises, though less. . . cute. his were more growling like—it showed the dedication to his role, at least.

“got’cha! c’mere,” toji grins as he suddenly grabs and lifts megumi up in the air; putting him in air-jail as he likes to call it. the baby kicks and squeals, trying its best to get out, “now—are ya gonna let me show mama some affection or should we do this the hard way?”

megumi protests once more like he actually knows what was said to him and kicks his legs frantically, causing both toji and you to laugh at your baby’s antics.

you sat back and watch the two go back and forth like that for a good while, enjoying the moment. you felt all giddy seeing them interact and wanted nothing more than to kiss and cuddle with both.

and of course, you wished that precious moments like these would never come to an end any tjme soon.

[simp-ly-writes]

"Always, Sweetheart."

─────── · · A Black Ops 6 FanFic

Pairing: Russell Adler x Fem!Handler!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You were a handler of operators out in the field and Russell Adlers was your best and yet the biggest pain in your side with his constant flirting and desire to get under your skin. Yet as soon as someone else tries to annoy you or heaven forbid- flirt with you, it gets shutdown right away.

─ · · TAGS: men being dicks, female pronouns, no use of (y/n), protective!Russell, jealous!Russell, mutual pining, enemies (strong annoyance) to lovers, confessions, pet names, suggestive themes, hurt/comfort.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,477

─ · · A/N: I was going crazy looking at all the fan art. Don't think I will be coming fully back to COD like I was before, but I had to write something for this character. Hope you all enjoy!

─────── · ·

"Officer Adler!" you yell, bursting through the heavy oak doors and into the office space. Fellow agents, officers, and handlers all look towards you and then back at Adler frozen in time and space.

Adler takes a drag of his cigarette before waving his hand in a silent command for everyone to leave you both. Hands quickly pick up their belongings and feet scatter out before the doors enclose you both.

The man in question makes no further movement simply leaning against the corner of a desk, a smirk setting upon his features as his glasses slip down his face to watch as you near, hands gripping a manila folder.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he says in an even tone, observing the curves of your face that have fallen into a serious frown. "We have already gone over this before, agent. You cannot call me such, such-"

"Such what, honey?" He teases further, cigarette sitting between his lips as he leans closer and into your space. You take a half step back, pinching your brows together before letting out a breath. "The pet names, Adler. They have to stop, we are both professionals."

Adler hums out in contemplation, taking one last drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the nearest ashtray. He nods his head in direction to the folder in your hand. "No. Before this," you wave the folder around to further prove your point, "we are sorting this thing out. I need to hear you say you won't do it any longer. It causes way to many issues."

"Issues about what? If someone is bothering you, you'll let me know right?" Adlers face drops, hands forming into fists, his stare already demanding names.

"Yes of course! But it makes me appear less assertive in my role, Adler. I have other operators I have to account for since you left and I can't have the newer ones thinking they can disrespect me in any way!" you try and explain, a hand gripping your hair as you stress.

Adler stands, gently taking your elbow before his fingers trail up your arm and towards your hand and head where he eases your grip from your roots. Before he can go to fix your hair you shake his touch off with a huff. "This is what I mean, officer," you say, throwing the document on the now bare desk.

"Well then maybe you should drop your other agents, (last/name)," Russell counters, arms now crossed against his wide chest. A few buttons to his navy shirt undone as you do you best to not look at the skin showing underneath.

"See you would have been my only operator as you have demanded in the past but as soon as you left, you failed to see that I still need to put food on the table so what little choice did I have but to be given new recruits?" you retort, falling into the nearby swivel chair as you stare at the door.

Adler crouches down, blocking your view. His hand twitching to pick up your chin to see your eyes once more. "Hey, look sweeth-(last/name). I can't apologize for my reasons for leaving but I will apologize for leaving you with no other options."

You nod your head before meeting his eyes once more, "So no more petnames?"

"No promises," is all Adler can say before leaning over you to reach for the documents you threw earlier. You lean back into your chair, hands gripping the arms, "You know you could have just asked me to get those for you?"

"Yeah but I got them anyways." You roll your eyes, "Hey- none of that now," Adler shushes you before looking back down at the files. You watch as his large hands grip the corners of the page, careful not to bend them before flipping it to the other side, a series of photos close to falling out as he tips the folder towards you to stop them. "I'm not a child in need of reprimanding, save that for the field workers."

"Never said you were but seeing you leaning back in that chair while doing that plants some images in a man's head," Adler's familiar smirk haunts you once again in the daylight. "Fucking hell," you swear underneath your breath.

"So, why am I being shown these? I already completed this objective..." Adler closes the folder, placing it gently back on the desk.

"Yeah, thats the issue. You see, Adler, we needed more information on those guys. Not for you to shoot them and the information with them!" you yell, swearing that your voice rippled the coffee in a nearby cold cup.

"Well, I'm going to let you in on a little secret off the books."

"And what secret would that be out of your many?" You lean forwards, playing with a ring on your finger. Adler stares at the movement before turning his back to you.

"I already knew all that information years ago, just had to make sure nobody else got to it."

─────── · ·

You thought that after that whole fiasco with your officer Adler, thing would have cleared up since then but it seemed that life had thought differently.

You were in a board meeting with your fellow operators, their handlers, and council members. One of your officers, Roger was sitting beside you, a notebook shared between the two of you as you both passed notes back and forth on the meeting that was dragging on into your lunch break.

"Well if they are planning biological warfare we have to meet metal with metal! If we are acting as moderates or even submissive what the hell room does that leave the enemy to operate in! They need to be neutralized long before those chemicals get out of the port, fuck the rest of them!" A board member yells from the top of the table as you lean back gaining a headache from it all.

Roger places a hand on your shoulder, his head tilting down to your ear, "You holding up alright?" he asks politely, turning his head for you to whisper your answer. "Yeah, just need this meeting to be over or at least to be paused. We are getting nowhere with all this shouting and violence."

The officer nods to your answer. "Yes, we have been circling over the same-"

"Oi! Do you to have something to share? Or are you both gonna keep whispering sweet little nothing into each others ears? Should I tell Adlers' that your cheatin' on em'?" Another handler chimes in, sending a toothy-white smile in your direction.

The other men around the table laugh as you lean on the table, threatening to stand. Roger makes no sudden movement in his chair, face set in a glare directed to the senior member at the unprofessional comment. Sighing you pick up your notes and crack your neck before reading your own radiant smile, eyes holding daggers picturing to stab through his eye-sockets.

"That will not be necessary, Paul," you spit out his name, "Nor is any of this discussion. We have all made no process since eleven! If we display strength with the military we risk our agents already operating within the operation and civilians. If we sit back and let it happen, we also risk a potential nuclear war. Our best option, which none of you men have brought forward and is embarrassing for our field is that we don't ship ourselves alongside the weapon, that way we can determine who has it, where it is meant to go, and where we want it to go."

You are nearly out of breath by the end of your speech as you stand and begin to walk towards the doors, Roger's hot on your tail as nods his head before all the members on behalf of you both, leaving the room in silence.

As soon as the door closes behind you both, you lean against it. "At times, I wish I had a dick like the rest of them but then I remember it's what makes them this way," you explain before picking yourself back up and continuing down the hall.

Rogers laughs, his eyes crinkling as he bumps your shoulder. You look up, casting him a smile as well. "You have a way of saying things, sweetheart. Would leave to see more of that mouth outside of work," Rogers says causing you to stand still in the hall as people walk around you both.

Turning to face your agent, your smile has turned into a glare once more. "Get back to work, Rogers. I expect a full report from last week still that I have yet to receive. Your co-worker has already sent theirs in with misinformation, I hope to not see the same things on yours. And please remember this, I. am. not. your sweetheart."

Turning back on your heels you continue further down the hall, Rogers left with your words before a whistle has you nearly breaking a heel by how much you want to throw it in his face. Russell. fucking. Adler. Standing there with that smirk yet again as he leans up against the break rooms entrance.

He holds out a hand, shaking it in a silent ask to carry your belongings. You shove them into his hand while using your other to press against his chest and to move him out of your way.

He does not budge, simply looking down at your lingering touch with a softening smile. "I am not in the mood, Adler. Please let me through," you use an overly sweet tone, you can feel him tense from underneath you.

"Hey, though I do love that tone when seeing you in a good mood. I do love viewing your rage. Lay it on, whats on your mind?" Adler asks, hand now resting atop your own.

"Move first and we'll sit and talk," you counter to his nod. Adler drops your touch, arm moving to welcome you into the empty space as everyone had already cleared back for work.

Coffee in hand, sandwich in the other, you took to your seat. "I'm so sick of men constantly stepping all over me when I worked just as hard- no. Fucking harder for this position and I still get treated like a little girl in their fathers suit and it does not help when after three hours of men shoving their dicks on the table a younger one then gets the audacity to be asking to see my mouth while calling me Sweetheart," you complain, downing the rest of your coffee before slamming the cup against the saucer.

Adler appears even more tense then you, his hands grips into fists allowing the veins across his forearms to appear most prominent. "Give me a name."

"Pardon?" you ask, embarrassed that you had became so easily distracted.

"Give. me. a. name, please," Alder asks once more, his eye staring deeply into your own. "Hey, whats wrong, sharing is a mutual affair," you reach across the table to grasp one of his hands, surprised when he pulls away. He's never done that before...

"Nobody gets to say that shit to you, not when I'm here. I'm sorry that you had to hear that, sweetheart." And for some reason you don't feel disgust except an overwhelming feeling of comfort as the word dances through your ears. You try and fake annoyance but Adler only takes that as further fuel against whatever man had wronged you so.

"Theres no need to apologize, Adler. I already told Rogers off-" you should not have said that, already regretting your words and Adlers chair screeches against the tiled floors, the door being slammed behind him as he storms off to find Rogers.

─────── · ·

The next time you are working with Rogers, he does not even look at you unless you command him to. He does well to hide his face to the best of his ability but it is hard not to notice the black eye or scarring underneath his chin. Tisking to yourself, you tell the agent his next meeting point in the south Mediterranean sea before setting off on your next mission, to find Adler.

It did not take long as he was already waiting in your office. First aid it open and displayed across the documents on your desk. He did not hiss or move as he poured the anti-bacterial fluid over his wounds, his teeth gripping a bandage in wait as he had yet to acknowledge your presence.

"Alder," you scolded like a tired mother before taking the wraps from his teeth and standing between his legs, gently wrapping his hand before pressing a kiss to your work that had both of you chuckling.

"You didn't have to do that, you know. Could have gotten you suspended-"

"You really think they would suspend me, honey?" you blush, shaking your head and taking a step away yet Adler catches your elbow, standing, chests touching as he leans down to get a better look of your face.

"All I'm saying is that you have to take better care of yourself, officer," you retort, eyes quickly casting to his lips before holding his gaze.

Alder smiles, hand now cupping your cheek as you allow yourself to lean into his touch. "Are you sayin' you care about me, (last/name)?" he teases, eyes already knowing the answer by the way in which they crinkle, mirroring your own.

"I care for all of my operatives, Russell Adler."

"But am I really just an operator to you, sweetheart?" his words now nearly a whisper upon your lips that part in wait.

"Well there's only one way to find out-" and his lips were on yours. His hand now holding the back of your head, nudging it upwards as you curved into his touch, hands gripping his shirt and around to his waist. Russell's other hand moved to grip your waist, thumb rubbing circles into your side as you felt his smile upon your lips.

Pulling away, lips puffy and eyes starry as you panted for air, Adler barely gave you anytime to breathe before he was kissing you again. Any papers on your desk were thrown to the floor before Russell was picking you up by the back of your thighs and placing you on the desk, legs spreading to keep you both close.

Standing back to full height, Adler looked at you sprawled out before him, hands morning their way up from the ankles that kept him locked into to place, up to your calves and towards your thighs and lower torso. Your breath gasped as his hands teased at the skin between your waist and shirt, skin tingling, his touch lingering with shared desire.

"Kiss me again," you pleaded.

"Always, Sweetheart."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: If this is recieved well may make another one... 🤷

[dansroo]

Are we not supposed to be already married?

based on this request.

content; Jayce Talis x male!reader. modern!au. husband!Jayce. fluff. silly and cloying romance. established relationship. married couple. suggestive!, teasing. just lots of love and kisses. 🙂‍↕️

word count; 1.3K (I promise that this time I wrote the correct number)

a/n; I had to republish it because, for some strange reason, it didn't appear in the tags. 👀 english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammatical error !

thank you for requesting! 🤍

You looked at your notes with great satisfaction. You had been working for the last few days on the development and design of a better processor; your beta design had been a complete success, so you decided to exploit your skills and improve yourself even more. Likewise, you knew you had the potential to achieve something much better, and you weren't going to waste an opportunity like that.

The little blue stone moved between your fingers as you observed it carefully. It had been a significant challenge to get Hextech and programming to complement each other without causing an explosive disaster, but it was something you strangely enjoyed, especially the reactions that magic had when coming in contact with computational systems.

Although it was very different for Jayce, who had to take care that you didn't end up losing an important limb.

The sudden touch of hands on your shoulders pulled you out of your bubble. “Can we go home now?” you chuckled, feeling his hands slide down your arms and then get tangled around your waist. “Please?” he whispered in your ear, causing a couple of tickles.

“Just finishing this, then we'll go home and see about dinner.”

You took a worn chalk, started to correct and write new equations on the blackboard in front of you, while you kept fidgeting with the small stone in your other hand.

You glanced sideways at Jayce's hand as it rose to gently take you by the wrist.

“Where is your ring?!” He asked with indignation, observing the absence of it on your finger.

You rolled your eyes, smiling with amusement “It's on my desk, I couldn't risk something happening to it while I work, right?”

“Or maybe you don't love me anymore and you want the divorce” you heard him say in an exaggeratedly sad tone, hiding his face in the gap between your shoulder and neck. “Geez, don't be so dramatic.” you said, laughing, listening to his laughter being muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

His arms didn't move from their place, still hugging you from behind. Eyes following the path that your hand was tracing on the blackboard and a smile on his face every time he heard you whisper unconsciously. He loved watching you work.

There was so much calm and silence that, for a moment, you had forgotten he was still there until you felt him place a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled, feeling his hands letting go of your waist.

“So, did you manage to convince Viktor to go home early?”

You heard his footsteps, and judging by the sound of a chair's legs being dragged on the floor, you deduced that he had sat at your desk. He took the time to explore your workplace, admiring a beautiful framed photograph resting on it. Jayce never missed an opportunity to look at that frame whenever he could.

It was of you and him, at the beginning of all this dream of his—both were so stupid to notice the love you had for each other. It was as if his heart beat again the same way it did the day he dared to kiss you—a clumsy but sweet kiss.

Your engagement ring was placed right in front.

“Oh, yeah… we should invite him to dinner with us one day, what do you think?”

You placed the chalk at the bottom of the blackboard, giving it one last look before you turned in his direction. “I think it's a great idea.” you smiled as you walked towards him, sliding your hands into your pockets. Once you were there you sat on the edge of the wooden desk—not without first storing the little blue stone in the metal box—, with Jayce next to you sitting in your chair. You yawned, listening to the sound of the light drizzle outside; turned your head to look at the window, where you began to see the small drops accumulate on the glass—tarnishing it almost completely.

You feel his fingers wrap around your arm, forcing you to take you hand out of you pocket. A giggle escapes from your lips as you watch him holding your ring.

“Would you marry me?”

“Are we not supposed to be already married?”

“It doesn't matter, let's get married twice.”

“I told you that we should have brought the umbrellas, Talis���

You sighed as you took off your soaked shoes, leaving them at the entrance. At first, it was a harmless drizzle; then it turned into a complete furious storm that ended up soaking both of you—as you had predicted this morning.

You removed the hair from your face, which was starting to stick in your skin thanks to how wet it was. “I know, I'm sorry, I didn't think it would rain this way” you heard him say between nervous giggles. “Didn't it bring you memories?” he asked you, with a silly and contagious smile. You sighed again, approaching to him.

“Let me think, like the time you fell on your face and—”

“Oh please, no, we've already talked about that.”

You laughed heartily; you knew which other memory he was referring to. But for God's sake, falling while you trying to calm your angry partner in the rain it's not something that you can forget so easily.

But not everything had gone so wrong that day, he had achieved his task after all.

“What am I going to do with you?” you asked, gently removing a small leaf that had gotten tangled in his hair. “I think the real question is, what haven't you already done to me?”

You shook your head slightly, laughing as you ran a hand over your face “My god, shut up.” you murmured embarrassedly as you hit his arm, making him laugh.

“I think I should consider the divorce.”

“Hey!, don't joke about that!”

Your laughter echoed down the hall, as you headed to your shared room. Jayce didn't stay behind, following you some time later.

The rules were simple, the one who lost made the dinner.

Both were curled up on the bed, with a large blanket covering your shoulders, wearing dry and warm clothes. After taking a hot shower, you both had started arguing about who would cook today's dinner; you decided that the only way to know was to leave it to the loser.

Your score was the highest, just for a couple of points. You mocked in silence, listening to his complaints.

“You're making fun of me?”

“Of course not—” you were about to make the final move to win when you felt him kiss your cheek, cradling your face with his hands to turn you completely toward him. “What the hell are you doing?” you said, laughing, as he kissed your whole face.

“I can't kiss my husband's pretty face anymore?” he replied, kissing the corner of your lips and then kissing you properly. Your body fell onto the bed—the control slipping from your hands in the process. The path of his kisses returned once more across your cheeks, gliding down to your jaw and finally reaching your neck. Initially, just were clumsy kisses, tickling you; then they became hungrier, wetter.

You clung to his arm, letting out a soft gasp as your eyes closed— just what he wanted. You were so focused that maybe you wouldn't notice that none of his hands were touching you, as usual.

“GAME OVER.”

You opened your eyes abruptly, feeling him smile against your skin. “What the-” you pushed him away, taking him off you—listened to his chuckle.

“Jayce Talis, you're a damn cheater.” you pointed your finger at him, laughing, after you stopped looking at the screen in front of the bed to turn and see him.

“Don't say you didn't like it.” he whispered, hugging you from behind to lie you down again on the bed, where you two were curled up all day.

Well, until you had to get up to cook.

© dansroo.2024.

[earthchica]

Funny How Time Flies | 3

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: terry reconsiders and confesses he wants something more out of this with you. While visiting Chichén Itzá, you and terry get to know each other better.

warnings: fluff, playfully teasing, acquaintances to friends to lovers, bubble bath, light angst, nightmare, mention of PTSD, mention of death, explicit smut (18+), oral (m & f), fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, dom/sub, choking kink, unprotected sex, dirty talking, nicknames (mama, cumslut, nasty & sweet girl, sweetheart, baby, baby girl), words: (4k)

note: hi, part 3 is here, it felt so good to write this. please enjoy! Let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts.

series masterlist

-

You and your friends arrived early in the morning in Valladolid, Yucatán, Mexico. With only two days to explore, your plans included visiting the ancient ruins of Chichén Itza.

After that, probably explore a few gift shops and eateries before returning to Cancun. While checking in, the villa only had three bedrooms, which meant you had to share a room with Terry.

You've been trying to hide your feelings for him, but it's getting hard. Every time you look at him, your heart races. The way he carries himself and his charming smile only add to the struggle.

You find yourself lost in thoughts about him, and despite your efforts to push those feelings away, they keep bubbling to the surface. It’s becoming impossible to ignore how much you want him to blow your back again.

As you watched him roll your suitcases alongside his own into the shared room, you couldn't help but appreciate the way his fitted shirt highlighted the definition of the muscles in his back.

His arms showcased the strength beneath the fabric, while the veins in his wrist caught your eye. It was a captivating sight that caused you to feel an undeniable turned on.

Terry leaned the suitcases against the sofa and turned to face you. You held back from throwing yourself at him as his expression appeared tired.

"So...we have to be up by 7, and you know Maya will kill us if we're not on time. So you don’t mind if I take a bath first," You asked, heading to your suitcases to grab some pajamas and toiletries.

"Hold on! You don’t wanna take a bath together?" Terry teased gently, prompting you to turn around with a shy smile.

"I would love to, but do you think you can behave yourself, Terry?" you asked, teasing your tone with a playful expression.

“Oh, I can behave, baby girl. I should be asking you that because I saw the look in your eyes early when you think I didn't notice,” Terry said, coming over and placing his hands on your hips. You laughed softly, looking away.

"Alright, alright. How about we promise to bathe and not start nothing?” you suggested with a smirk, trying to maintain an air of seriousness despite the laughter bubbling inside you.

"Okay, deal," Terry said, his voice deep and full of warmth. You both head to the bathroom; your clothes drop on the floor, and you put on your shower cap.

Terry prepares a bubble bath, and eventually, both of you get in. The warm water envelops you as the bubbles form a playful froth around you.

The bathroom was softly lit, casting a gentle glow that added to the moment's intimacy. You leaned back against Terry, feeling the soothing heat of the water relaxing every part of you.

"This is nice!" Terry whispered, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as the scents of lavender filled the air. It was peaceful and perfect.

"Yeah, it is," You said, tilting your head to look at him, and he kissed you before things got heated. You and Terry kept your deal, exchanging lighthearted banter while helping each other get clean.

Afterward, you both stepped out of the bathtub, dried off, and dressed in nightclothes. You followed your night routine, all while the excitement of tomorrow lingered in your thoughts.

As you settled under the covers, you were respectfully sleeping on your sides of the bed. A few hours goes, and your eyes gently open when you hear Terry murmur in his sleep.

Sitting up slightly, you notice his distressed and sweaty face, indicating he might be trapped in a nightmare. Unsure of how to help, you carefully rise and give him a gentle nudge to wake him up.

"Terry, hey," you whispered softly, brushing the sweat away from his forehead. His eyes flutter open, and he looks momentarily disoriented before meeting your gaze.

"Shit," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he tries to shake off the remnants of the bad dream.

"Are you okay?" you inquired, your voice filled with concern as you gently stroked his arm. Terry hesitated, sitting up and averting his gaze while clenching his jaw.

"I-" He started, turning back to you, tears streaming down his face as his lips began to tremble. Your eyes widened, opening your arms and pulling him towards you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you reassure him, holding him close. He buries his face in your chest, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly begin to ease.

"I'm here," you continue softly, "and you're safe." Terry inhales deeply, momentarily tightening his hold on you before easing his grip.

You embrace him in silence, allowing him to gather before you inquire. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He lifts his face to look you into your eyes, hesitating, but you give him a reassuring expression.

"It's okay," you said with such sweetness and softness. Terry felt he could be open and vulnerable with you. "Yeah!" Terry said, and you nodded, sensing that he trusted you enough to share.

"Um...months before coming on this trip...I lost my cousin, Mike....." Terry shared, explaining how he had intended to help bail his cousin out of jail and support him in starting a new life, but things took an unexpected turn.

He tells the painful story of losing his cousin and how he defended corrupt police in a town known as Shelby Springs.

Although the case eventually went to court, and he received some significant compensation, it did little to mend the heartache of his cousin's loss.

Terry admitted that he was still dealing with his grief and felt a lingering sense of guilt. “I just sometimes think…I could’ve done much more, and Mike would still be here.”

“Oh Terry, It’s not your fault. You tried your best and brought justice to your cousin's name. I’m sure Mike doesn’t blame you, even with him gone and he still with you in your heart.” You said, comforting him.

Terry nodded, appreciating your comforting words as he took a deep breath; the weight of his emotions seemed to ease slightly, and he looked at you with gratitude.

"Thank you. Hearing that really helps. Sometimes, the guilt can be overwhelming, making it difficult to look beyond it."

You softly held his hand, providing quiet reassurance. "It's natural to feel this way sometimes, but I believe Mike would have wanted you to keep pushing forward and overcome."

Terry gave a small, appreciative smile. “I appreciate you, Thanks for listening. It means a lot”

You smiled back, touched by his words. "Of course, I'll be here, Terry whenever you need me,"

Both of you staring into each other's eyes deeply. "Wanna try to get some sleep again?" you asked, breaking the trance and placing your hand on his cheek.

“Yeah...um, can we cuddle?” He asked shyly which made your heart flutter.

"Of course," You replied warmly, shifting closer to him. Terry wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The warmth of his body against yours and the gentle rhythm of his breathing was soothing, slowly lulling you back to a state of sleep.

Terry was still awake, and a lot of thoughts were going through his mind. He looked down at you, watching you sleep in his arms. The moment he realized he wanted more with you, it was how easily you comfort him without thinking and let him be vulnerable.

You embodied everything he desired: sweet, caring, alluring, intelligent, beautiful, and empathetic—the list is endless. You stirred feelings in him that he never believed possible; you captivated him deeply.

From the moment you met, he felt a connection with you; this experience only solidified that bond. Terry was determined not to waste another moment of this trip before expressing his feelings.

-

As you wake up, you notice Terry's side of the bed is empty. Letting out a sigh, you get out of bed to brush your teeth, remove your bonnet, and wash your face.

Suddenly, you hear Terry call your name, and you eagerly rush back into the bedroom. He stood by the door, shirtless with just shorts on and a tray of food in his hand.

“I gotta breakfasts. Maya said we have about an hour and a half before we leave for Chichén Itzá. So let’s eat,” Terry said with a warm smile as he set the tray down on the small table by the window.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, glowing gently around the room. You couldn't help but smile back, touched by his thoughtfulness.

The tray was filled with an assortment of delicious options: fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, bacon, and two glasses of orange juice. The aroma filled the air, so it smelled good.

Terry pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down, feeling appreciation. "This looks amazing, Terry. Thank you," you said, meeting his eyes with a smile.

"You deserve it. Thank you for comforting me; I needed it," he replied, sitting across from you.

"There's no need to thank me, honey. I would gladly be there for you if you need me," You said honestly, and Terry couldn't help but feel his feelings deepen for you.

"How are you this morning?" You asked, salting and peppering your eggs before taking a bite.

"A lot better; I haven't slept that good in a minute, thanks to you," Terry said, and you smiled shyly.

You both enjoyed the breakfast; the conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, and you shared excitement about today's adventure to Chichén Itzá.

Terry paused, watching you animatedly describe what you looked forward to seeing. You paused from talking and just stared at Terry, who noticed you stopped talking.

“What?” He asked with a smile.

"This is just nice; I could get used to this," You admitted.

Terry chuckled softly, "I was hoping you would say that," he responded.

"Cause me too, I want more moments like this with you," Terry said as your eyes met his. His sincerity in gaze made your heart flutter.

"Really?" you inquired, not fully comprehending his words as they resonated with your own unspoken hopes. "You're just playing with me," you added shyly.

“I'm not, baby girl, I’m dead serious,” Terry said in his low, deep voice, moving his chair to wrap his arms around you. There was a hint of fear in his expression that you might not believe him.

“What about not wanting anything serious?” You asked shyly, looking away for a second before looking back. Terry paused, his eyes reflecting honesty and determination.

"At first, I did but spending even a short time with you has opened my eyes to what I've been missing. Initially, I believed it was fun and lust, but now I understand that it’s something deeper, and I don’t want to let it slip away," he spoke gently.

His words ignited a warmth in your chest, their sincerity resonating profoundly within you. "I like you a lot, baby, I care about you, and when I'm with you, everything feels right," he said, his eyes locked on yours.

"I want to explore where this could lead if you're open to giving it a chance. We can take it slow" His honesty was palpable, igniting a spark of hope within you.

The thought of delving into something serious with Terry filled you with excitement and relief. You took a deep breath, pondering the possibilities ahead.

"I like you a lot too, Terry. Like I said before, I'm here for you, and I want to give this a try," you replied gently. You lowered your eyes shyly, feeling a sense of happiness you hadn't felt in a long time.

Terry leaned to kiss you passionately as if everything in the universe had aligned perfectly for this moment. With the breakfast plates nearly empty.

Terry leaned back in his chair, stretching before suggesting, "Alright, we should probably start getting ready soon. I wouldn't want to upset Maya by being late."

You laughed, nodding in agreement. "True, she might not forgive us if we miss the damn van." as you cleared the table, the excitement for the day ahead felt so good.

-

You and Terry are dressed in casual clothes. Hand in hand, you make your way to the villa's living room, spotting Maya, Sasha, Bryce, and Cam there.

Maya started with a joyful smile. "Well, looky...looky! What's happening here?"

“Right, this is new. Are y’all like togather now?” Sasha asked with hope in her eyes.

“Yeah, something like that,” Terry said with a chuckle. “Word?” Bryce asked with a grin and playfully nudged him on the shoulder.

"We haven't defined what we are yet, but we're definitely something more than we were before," You explained, looking up at Terry with sweet eyes.

"Yeah, just taking it slow," Terry exclaimed, glancing down at you and giving your hand a firm squeeze as if he were channeling all his energy toward you.

Sasha clapped her hands, and her eyes lit up like she had just seen a fireworks show. "Y'all are so cute. I'm so happy for you two!"

"Yeah, both of you look good together," Cam said, grinning like he knew what was up. You felt warm and fuzzy inside, with your friends hyping you and Terry.

“Ok, now,” Maya called, looking at everyone with a smile. "Who’s excited we’re going to Chichén Itzá?"

Cam rubbed his hands together like a birdman. "I've been wanting to see that place. It's gonna be dope!"

Sasha spoke, her enthusiasm infectious. "Yeah, and we gotta take a bunch of photos! I need some new material for my travel blog."

Bryce chuckled, throwing an arm around Sasha's shoulder. "For real, and I can't wait to see you try to climb one of those pyramids for the perfect shot without tripping."

As laughter filled the room, Terry gently squeezed your hand, his eyes meeting yours with a shared understanding that this trip would be memorable in more ways than one.

"Alright, let's get moving then," You said, feeling the buzz of excitement. With that, everyone gathered their things, and the group started their adventure.

The drive to Chichén Itzá was filled with excited and lively chatter. Once you arrive, go inside with your paid tickets and walk through the souvenir stands path.

The first thing you approach is El Castillo; it takes your breath away. "Look at that!" Maya exclaimed, pointing towards the imposing pyramid that dominated the site.

"This is incredible!" Terry said, standing by your side, his hand brushing against yours as you both took the sight.

"It's amazing," Cam murmured, a sense of wonder in his voice. "I can't believe we're actually here."

Sasha was already snapping photos, capturing every angle and detail to share on her blog.

"This place is a photographer's dream," She said, her eyes wide with excitement.

The group wandered through the ruins, exploring the Temple of the Warriors and the Great Ball Court. Each site added layers to the stories you imagined about the Mayan civilization.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you all took a break under the shade of a large tree, sipping some cold water. Terry leaned closer to you, his voice low so only you could hear.

"I'm really glad I got to see these with you," he said, his sincerity shining. You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you.

"Me too," you replied, the truth of your words resonating between you. As the sun shines bright on both of you, stroll away to talk; the conversation flows as easily as ever.

You knew a few things about Terry he mentioned before, but you wanted more depth and detail to get to know him better. You looked over at him and asked about his childhood.

He shifted his gaze and began to speak about his childhood. “I was born and raised in New Orleans; I was cool with everyone in school, made good grades, and played a few sports until college."

He took a breath, continued. "I have great parents and a great family, so family gatherings and spending time with them means a lot to me! What about you?”

“Wow, I feel you on that. Family is everything, " you began before continuing. "Um…I was born in New York but moved to Lafayette, Louisiana, with my parents when I was 5,” you shared, your voice brightening.

“I was pretty shy and introverted, as I still am today. I mostly kept to myself, lost in the books and making good grades, and the only friends I made were Sasha and Maya." You let out a sigh, tilting your head to the sky.

"I'm an only child, so my parents were really supportive about anything I wanted to do. I became an archivist and have always loved digging into the past.” You added.

"Wow, that totally makes sense; you were a good girl all your life, huh?" Terry asked playfully.

You laughed at his playful teasing, giving a slight nod. "I suppose that's true. I always strive to stay on the right path, but that doesn't mean I haven't enjoyed my fair share of wild and fun moments when I felt like it," you responded with a wink.

Terry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Well...you got to tell me at least one"

"Alright...well, there was this one time in college," you began, leaning back in your chair as you recalled the memory.

"Where Sasha and Maya practically beg me to go to Miami for the weekend. I decided to go, and It was supposed to be a relaxing getaway, but things got a little...out of hand."

Terry leaned in closer, clearly intrigued. "Go on," he urged.

"We ended up at this beach party, and let's just say there was a little too much tequila involved," you admitted with a laugh.

"I think we found ourselves on stage during a karaoke competition singing New Edition. I don't remember much, but I do know we won and then I think I threw up on stage. It was wild" You said, shook your head, thinking about all the craziness.

Terry burst into laughter, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh man, I really wish I could have witnessed that! You know, when I first met you, I could sense there was a vibrant, outgoing side to you mixed with that shy, sweet, good girl in you."

You shrugged. "Sometimes being shy and introverted can suck; I've shelled myself on a lot of things and lost opportunities because of it."

Terry placed his hand on your arm and gave you a reassuring squeeze. "I understand, but you're doing well, like on this trip. Look where it brought you."

You smiled at his words, appreciating his understanding. "Yeah, you're right. It’s been so amazing and freeing especially because I met you. You've played a part in me opening my shell"

Terry's expression softened. "I did a little; you did the rest, and watching you blossom and feeling a deep connection with someone as beautiful, intelligent, and sweet as you has been wonderful"

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Same here, Terry" you admitted lightly.

"I never imagined I would meet such a wonderful, kind, respectful, and handsome man like you but I'm glad I did," you remarked, Terry's smile radiating warmth and sincerity.

He gently lifted your hand and kissed it, his eyes shining with genuine affection. "Well, I guess we both got lucky on this trip," he replied, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You both sat there momentarily, enjoying the comfortable silence and the connection that hung like a gentle melody. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a little moment like this.

Illuminated the potential of what you could build together. With that, the two of you got up and walked hand in hand. You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you met back up with the group and soon left Chichén Itzá.

The ride back to the villa was filled with comfortable chatter here and there. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape, and you found yourself lost in thought rest of the trip and about the possibilities ahead with Terry.

-

Once back at the villa, everyone decided to unwind and relax after the fun but tiring day by the pool, with music, tacos, and beans—a delightful way to wind down.

Bryce and Sasha splashed around in the pool, Maya and Cam deeply conversed, and you were mainly on Terry, who leaned closer with his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“You know,” Terry said with a smirk, “if you keep looking at me like that, I might just have to take you upstairs right now.”

His voice was teasing, but there was an undeniable spark in his eyes. You raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh really?”

Terry leaned in more, his breath warm against your ear. “Yeah, I know when my sweet girl needs me.” You could feel your heart racing, your panties getting wet, and excitement coursing through you.

“You're right, Daddy. Let’s go," you whispered, getting up and saying good night to the others. You grabbed Terry's hand and dragged him away, which made him laugh.

Once the door of your shared bedroom closed, Terry pulled you in for a kiss, urgency lacing his every movement. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

The sexual tension manifests from the heat between you. The two of you had spent all day teasing each other with stolen glances and lingering touches while at Chichén Itzá.

The kiss shared was electric, a spark igniting between you. This kiss differed from others; it was tender yet filled with an undeniable passion and softness.

You lose yourself in the way his tongue dances along yours, and your hands reach the other's bodies and take each piece of clothing off between every loving kiss.

You pulled away, taking a breath as Terry cupped your breasts in his soft, big hands. You think he has an obsession with your breasts every time he gets sight of them.

"Mmm, you are so fucking sexy, you know that. I love your body so much, especially these big tits," He said, looking down at you slightly; hesitation was in his eyes before he went for it.

Terry started motorboating you, causing you to gasp and slightly giggle, confirming your theory. You bit your lip and grabbed the back of his head, smacking with your tits in his face.

"Yes, I like that. Keep smacking me with those beauties," Terry growled as you continued for a little bit until he cupped your breasts and sucked the nipples.

"Ahh, Daddy, please. I-I need that dick; I wanna suck it again," You moaned, sliding your hand down to grip the tip of his dick in your hand and stroking him, playing with his pre-cum.

Terry moaned, leaning his forehead against yours, breath slightly hitched. "Fuck, yes, I couldn't get that talented little mouth of yours out of my mind."

"Mmm, yeah Terry. You love my mouth, don't you? I rocked your world; I had you cumming all over, wouldn't you like that again" You moaned, stroking him faster, causing him to moan more.

"Fuck, lay on your stomach and moved to the edge of the bed" Terry ordered, removing your hand from his dick and moving you towards the bed.

You lay on your stomach, looking up at Terry lustfully as he comes with his big, hard throbbing dick in your sight, making your mouth water.

"It's not gonna suck itself, mama. Get to work," Terry said, shoving his dick in your mouth, causing you to moan; you popped him for a second before going back in.

You look at him, bobbing your head up and down his length, loving his expressions. "Ohhhh....yes, just like that, baby fuck...that ass of yours looks incredible from this angle."

You moaned muffledly, feeling Terry grip your ass cheeks before sliding his fingers through your wet folds. You continued to suck him, moving your head up and down as he began to finger you.

"Ahh, Terry." You pulled out to say with a moan before going back to sucking him out. You try your best to focus on giving him pleasure but with his fingers thrusting fast in your pussy was.....

"Mmmm, baby, you just know how to make me feel so good with that pretty mouth of yours; let me bury my dick in your mouth," Terry says, grabbing your head with both of his heads and starting fucking your mouth.

You look up at him, feeling your eyes water slightly as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat in an incredibly harsh way. "Take that dick so well, fuck baby, keep looking at me like that, make me fucking cum"

He pops himself out of your mouth, slapping his dick on your tongue before letting you going back to suck and began stroking at the same time while still looking at him.

"Mmm, daddy...I want you to cum....I need you to cum in my mouth, I want to tasted all on my tongue please"

"Shit, mama. You want that cum, huh? My cumslut, keep sucking the dick for the nut, sweet girl," Terry moaned, grabbing your braids.

You moaned, stroking and sucking him, going faster than before. "Just like that, fuck.....shit shit shit. You want that nut, right?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes, I want it all, cum for me, cum on this mouth for your good girl," You moaned, looking up at him while holding his legs for support.

Terry thrusted his length deep in your mouth, gripping the back of your neck, feeling himself getting close to the edge, and seeing you take it all like a champion with no gag made him bust.

"fuck,fuck,fuck!!!!" He moaned as his eyes rolling the back out of head as he burst his full hot load into your throat, it was so much that you popped him out of your mouth.

All of his cum came dropping out of your mouth and got on your lips, chin, and the bed, causing you to smile at the sight. You gazed up at Terry with a smile.

"My nasty girl," Terry moaned, wiping the cum off your chin, and you sucked off his fingers. He was trying to steady his feet, slightly shaken from mind-blowing release.

He almost fell, and you had to catch and help him lay down on his back. You kissed his cheek, his neck, and then his sweaty chest.

"Honey, you okay?" You asked, clearing your throat and wiping your face with some tissue by the bed before placing your hand on his rising chest.

Terry was quiet, panting heavily while calming down from the high. “Yeah fuck....I think I’m falling for you. You are the only woman who has made me cum like that.”

His voice was playful but was also serious. His words hung in the air, a gentle echo that resonated in your heart.

“I…I think I’m falling for you too, Terry," you said with a smile. He smiled, going for a kiss and flipping you on your back to spread your legs wide.

Terry slightly rises, lifting your leg and kissing the ankle down to your thigh, loving the feel of his plump, sweet, and soft lips on your skin, slightly tingling in a way.

"Please, more, Daddy." You begged.

"Mmmm...you have such a perfect pretty pussy…I love it so much; it was made just for me, taste it and bury my dick in it," Terry said before plunging his tongue between your wet folds.

His lips capture your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

You placed your hand on the back of his head as he went harder than before. "Oh, yes, Terry, yes...shit I love your tongue, make me feel so good"

Terry pulls away for a second, rubbing your clit. "I know, baby, you deserve to feel good. Fuck, baby, you know I love hearing talk dirty keep it coming, beautiful."

"Ahh fuck, eat my pussy, fucking eat my pussy" You cried, gazing down at him for a second before back at the ceiling; he grabbed your hands and held you down as he sucked the soul of you.

"You look so beautiful, baby; you're about to cum, right? You're gonna cum for me?" Terry asked, rubbing at your clit.

"Ahh yes, i'm gonna cum yes, I'm gonna cum-!" You whimpered, feeling your legs shake and tense up close to the edge.

"Cum for me, cum for me, mama," Terry said, and your orgasm hit you hard, causing you to let out a scream of pleasure.

As you came down, Terry kissed up your body until he got to your lips and pressed a passionate kiss on you, tasting yourself.

"Daddy, I need you now, please I need that dick inside me again," You cried, stroking his still hard, throbbing dick.

"I'll give you what you need, baby, don't worry," Terry said, sliding you down to the edge of the other side of the bed, slightly spreading your plump legs wide before hovering over you,

His warm hand cradled your face, his eyes filled with love and tenderness. He began stroking his length before moving to slide his dick up and down your wet folds.

"Ahhhhhh!!!" You opened your mouth in an O as you looked at him, feeling the tip of his dick teasing your wet entrance. Terry gently thrusts his dick fully into your pussy.

A wave of deep pleasure washed over you, causing a moan to escape your lips. He continued to thrust slowly and gently.

His presence was both sensual and promising in this loving moment. You tugged Terry toward you for a kiss and pulled away, resting your forehead against him.

"Mmm, Terry ah...right there..." You moaned, placing your hand on the low of his back and pulling him for another kiss.

The warmth of his body against yours heightened the intimacy. The incredible feeling in every sense of his dick deep inside of you that you were squeezing him so tightly.

You titled your head to look at Terry from your neck and his eyes were slightly closed for a second. "You feel that baby, feel how deep I am in that pussy?"

Terry moaned, and you bit your lip with a nod before answering. "Yes, I feel it. It's so deep, Daddy." You said as he slightly moved his body up, and you placed a hand on his chest.

You looked down, focusing on the way his dick moved in and out of you, noticing the steady rise and fall of his breath.

"Faster," You begged as he said, "You wanna go faster?"

"Yes, Daddy, please." You answered, and he changed the missionary to the side, gripping your ass cheek before going a little faster in his thrusts.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You cried, running your hand up and down his firm, toned arm as he kissed your neck, thrusting his dick deep inside of you.

He spread your ass cheeks a little bit wider to go deeper, and with each thrust getting more substantial, the whole bed started making a squeaking sound.

"Fuck, this pussy was just made for me; this is all mine, baby girl? this pussy's is mine" He asked, whispering in your ear while biting and kissing at your neck.

"Ahh fuck yes Terry, all yours." You moaned, couldn't hold back your loud moans, and shouted out his name every time he hit your sweet spot.

"You like that, huh? Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you?" Terry asked, wrapping his hand on your neck softly.

"Ahh, oh....fuck...I love it more than, like, Daddy. I love how you fill me up every time," You moaned, feeling closer to the edge.

Terry pulls out and thrusts back with force; he does this a few times, just loving how his dick leaves and enters your pussy, creamy affected.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum" You cried out, digging your nails into his arm, slapping skin filled the room loud as he thrusts faster then before, loosen his grip on your neck.

Terry slaps your ass while gripping it, matching the rhythm of this pounding thrusts as he said "Cum on your dick, it's all yours baby, squeezing me for that cum, fuck"

Once the words left his lips, you came hard all over his dick moaning his name, and he wasn't that far behind as you felt his hot cum spurting inside of you.

"So....fucking....good!" Terry pulled out of you and watching his cum drop out of your pussy. You smiled happily, calming down from the high.

Terry went and got a washcloth to clean you up. Once he finished, he moved you up to the pillows, laid beside you and enveloped you in his arms.

"You're completely mine, just as I am entirely yours!" he declared, and as you looked up into his eyes, you responded with a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Yes...we belong to each other," you whispered softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. The room was filled with a serene silence, broken only by the rhythmic beating of your hearts.

Outside, the moonlight spilled in through the window, giving everything a magical glow. You snuggled in tighter, feeling his chest rise and fall, knowing this was your spot.

[mochinomnoms]

Hello I saw your event and got interested! I was wondering if you could do #24 with Idia (romantic, fluff, and suggestive if possible) with fem!reader?

idia shroud x f!reader [tags] – romantic, fluff, suggestive [wc} – 3, 241 prompt 24: “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” “Why?” “If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” notes - the only way to write idia is kind pathetic like a wet cat. i love pathetic men a floral inconvenience

According to legend, a Japanese emperor gave blue hydrangeas to the girl he loved, to apologize for neglecting her and to show how much he really cared for her. Their petal shape resembles a beating heart. 

Idia thinks that he was cursed in a past life for doing something awful. Maybe he kidnapped someone’s kid and tried to kill them. Maybe he tried to overthrow the gods and take over himself, but failed miserably. Or maybe, worst of all: broke someone’s limited-edition, vintage Tokyo Mew Mew Ichigo figurine. 

He sure as the underworld that he did something, why else would he be puking up hanahaki flowers like some cringey Canon x Reader fanfic? 

“Big Bro! You really should go to the school infirmary, the petals and stems can cause irritation and damage to the trachea and nasopharynx if not treated properly!”

Ortho was currently hovering over him, fretting like a mother hen over her chick. How ironic, Idia thought as he picked at the petals still in his teeth, it was for the little brother to be caring for the elder. 

“Why do that when I can just have the school delivery bots bring me medicine. Then I won’t have to interact with anyone, I’d literally DIE if anyone saw me like this…”

Especially if the Prefect saw him. The image of her sweet face, and beaming smile…like a scene from a shoujo manga, flooded his mind. He could practically hear her voice, full of concern, asking, “Are you okay, Idia?”

Idia fell into a sneezing fit, petals flying from his mouth and nose as his sneezes continued, one after the other, until he was also thrown into a hoarse, wet-sounding cough. 

“Big Bro! That’s it, you’re going to the nurse!” Ortho, despite being quite small, grabbed Idia by the back of his striped pajama shirt, much like one grabs a wet cat by the scruff of its neck. 

“UUuuuuuuuuuughghuguguguhidonwannaaaaaaaaAAAAAHHHh!” Idia cried out in a whiney, high-pitched tone. 

His brother, perhaps taking pity on his brother, took the shortcut to the infirmary, cutting directly pass the buildings and fields as Idia’s arms and legs loosely flew like cooked spaghetti noodles. Flying through the window that Nurse Goethel often kept open for fresh air, Ortho plopped Idia into a spare bed, who collapsed like a ragdoll into the thin mattress. 

“I’ll go check you in with the Nurse, I’ll be right back, please make yourself comfortable Idia!”

Idia gave a muffled grumble as a response, shoving his face further into the hard surface of the bed with a sense of dread. He could hear Ortho speak with Goethel at her desk. 

Well, he thought, at least she won’t see me looking all gross and lovesick like some normie—

“Idia, oh my god, are you sick?” 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”

A shrill, ear-splitting shriek left his mouth as the flames of his hair blew up into a blazing hot pink. Idia bolted him, a sharp pain hitting the top of his head as he heard you yelp. As he rubbed the pained spot, Idia noticed that you too were rubbing your chin. Oh Sevens, he hit your chin with his big, stupid head. 

“Ooowwwww, damn Idia, you hit hard…” you hissed, though you gave him a sweet smile in reassurance. 

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have scared you…though why are you covered in flowers?”

Idia froze, debating on whether or not he should open his mouth and potentially say something damning, or just stay quiet and hope you’d just get weirded out and leave. 

“Because he’s an idiot who didn’t come to immediately see me at the first petal cough!” 

The nurse came up to Idia with a disapproving glare, handing you a clipboard and pen before slipping on a clean pair of gloves. 

“Prefect, please check the boxes for every symptom I find. I believe I know what it is, but we need to check all our bases.” 

Idia peeked at you from the corner of his eye as you smiled at him, waving your fingers as the nurse whispered a spell to turn her magic pen into a makeshift flashlight. 

“Now, open up and say ‘ah’ so I can see what those flowers are doing to you.” 

Following her instructions, Idia tried his best to be a cooperative and willing patient, if just to get out of here faster. Unfortunately, your presence only seemed to make it harder to do so, as hydrangea flowers bloomed from the pores of his skin, focusing particularly around his hands and neck. 

The nurse, he’s sure, could also see the magic sparkles forming as a new bouquet formed through his throat and shot up his mouth. She tsked, leaning back to allow Idia to hack out the now decent sized hydrangea bouquet. They were a vibrant blue, much like his hair. 

“Ah, go, go on and let it out.” The nurse waved a hand at Ortho. “Dear, please fetch your brother a cup of the tea I have brewing at my desk. Prefect? Please note that the patient has no evidence of root growth in his throat.”

“Root growth!? Is my brother going to be okay?” Ortho worriedly rushed over, the tea spilling over the rim of the foam cup. “Is it a curse or disease? Is my brother growing a plant in his lungs!?”

“Ortho, you scanned me earlier this week, remember?” Idia hoarsely replied, taking the tea to gingerly sip at it. “Nothing in ‘em, or my stomach ‘cept ramen noods.”

“A WEEK?!” The three of you flinched at the shrill gasp of Goethel, who was glaring daggers at Idia. “Mr. Shroud, you’ve been sick with an unknown flora disease and you didn’t even bother to let the staff know? What if you were contagious!!”

Idia shrank into himself as he whispered, “It’s not like I leave my room…” 

“Bateria or the pollen could’ve gotten into the air vents and infected the rest of your dorm, ugh.” The nurse sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before addressing you. “Miss Y/N, if you mark down the lack of root growth, fever, and magical origin of the flowers, what do you get?”

He watched as you flipped through the clipboard, smile slightly faltering as you read one of the papers. You cleared your face briefly, before smiling politely back at the nurse and Idia.

“Based on everything, it seems that Idia most likely has the flower sickness, also known as the love sickness, petal fever, or, most commonly, hanahaki.”

Idia cringed at the cold, monotone sound of your voice. Now he’d done it. You knew, somehow you knew that he had the biggest, fattest, most twitterpated-full crush on you. No, crush was understated. He had dreams of you, the cringiest, domestic fantasy-based shit where he’d imagine you, waking up in bed with him back at the Island of Woe. You had given him a sleepy smile as you curled into side, naked. With a smile and a kiss to his lips, dream you turned over to hover over him, trailing small kisses and love bites down his body, further and further as you whispered to him, over and over, “I love you, Idia—”

A queasy, dizzying feeling fell over Idia as a particularly painful croup caused him to double over and vomit last night's dinner alongside blue, heart-shaped petals. 

“Idia!”

“Big Brother!”

“Shroud—Prefect, hold his hair back! Ortho, grab the trashcan, I’ll go get some cleaning supplies and new sheets.”

Nurse Goethel barked orders to the other two, who quickly jumped into action. Idia could feel a shiver as he felt your hands softly grasp his flaming hair, fingers grazing his cheek as you tucked his bangs behind his ears. He could barely make out your coos, no doubt comforting him. You must be disgusted seeing him like this, having to care for a sopping wet cat of a man. Ortho was holding the trash can, right on time for Idia to hurl some more flowers and stomach acid. 

“Oh, Idia…you poor thing.” You whispered into his ear, unintentionally causing his body to warm up and a chill go down his spine to settle in his abdomen. He was very aware that if he turned his head to look at you, he’d get a faceful of your chest like some harem isekai protag, the thought making him warm further and his tips pink again. 

“I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad, Idia…” Ortho murmured, guilt in his voice. “I should’ve brought you sooner…”

“N-no…” Idia gravelly replied, wiping his mouth clean. “It’s not your fault Ortho, don’t beat yourself over it.”

Ortho still looked guilty, but nodded in affirmation, glancing at briefly at the Prefect. His gaze flitted between the two, and Idia could briefly see Ortho’s eyes go blank, as they did when searching through his knowledge database.

“Miss Prefect!” Ortho chirped, voice now perky much to Idia’s concern. “May I ask for a spare infirmary shirt for my brother? He must be very uncomfortable in his soiled one!”

Idia was now firmly and acutely aware of your hands still on him, thumb rubbing soothingly into his temple. 

“Oh, of course Ortho.” You moved away, hands hovering for just a moment, as you replied, “They’re in the storage, I’ll be right back!”

Idia watched as you walked away into the infirmary storage. Ortho did as well, waiting until you were out of earshot to excitedly whisper, “Idia! I know it’ll be an easy fix!”

“Huh?” Idia rose an eyebrow at his brother, confusion setting in.

“It’s a love sickness, and you love the Prefect—Idia stop looking at me like that—so if you confess to them, the flowers will go away!”

Idia was still giving Ortho a horrified look, as he continued. 

“Based on the timing of your reactions in correlation with close proximity within the Prefect, along with your increased heart rate at their touch, speech, and glances, and the fact that the Prefect stated on December 15th at 11:18:53 pm that she likes hydrangeas, she is the cause of the sickness. Right?”

“Ortho!’ Idia hissed, grabbing at his brother to shut him up despite Ortho not technically having a mouth. 

“Quiet down, this isn’t some otome game where I can cheat and look online for the right responses. Did you see how she reacted earlier when she found out it was hanahaki, how disappointed she looked? There’s no way Y/N—I mean the Prefect, didn’t connect the dots. 

“But, Big Brother!” Ortho whined, “Based on her heart rate and increased body temperature—”

“No is no, Ortho! It’s not going to be such an easy fix, I’ll just get rejected!”

“Technically speaking—” Idia and Ortho both jumped at the nurse’s voice, who was coming back from storage with clean linens. The Prefect followed with a new shirt.

“—you don’t need your beloved to accept your feelings, just confess them. Though it’s quite rare that it’s not reciprocated.”

The nurse motioned for Idia to get up as the Prefect handed him the shirt. She began taking the sheets off as the nurse addressed the two brothers. 

“Mr. Shroud, if you are insisting on keeping this sickness intact for fear of rejection, then I will have to ask Professor Crewel for some more potent ingredients for your prescription. Little Shroud?”

“Oh, yes Nurse Goethel?” 

“I could use your assistance, please come with me, Miss Y/N will tend to your brother,” She had a smug tone and smirk as she said this, motioning for Ortho to follow. “Mr. Shroud, please have no worry, she makes an excellent student nurse!” 

Idia let out a defeated, low, whiney groan as he moped over behind one of the privacy screens. You remained quiet as you collected the dirty sheets. He could hear Goethel’s footsteps and Ortho’s fans fade away as they left further and further down the hall. Idia yanked his shirt off, slipping the clean one over his head, noting it was a tad bit too small. He grumbled in annoyance as he pulled the shirt down to cover his stomach. 

“Idia?”

“Eeep!” Idia yelped, your voice coming from right behind the screen. “Y-yes?”

“Are you done changing? I can take your shirt to the hamper.”

He hummed in response, peeking his hand from behind the screen with the shirt in hand. As you took the shirt and walked away, Idia slowly moved to look at you. Once he was sure your eyes were firmly ahead (and briefly taking a look at your ass), he launched himself back into bed, the smell of clean linen filling his nose. 

Idia sighed, a faux exhaustion settling into his bones as he sunk into the bed. He tensed as he felt you sit on the edge to this right. 

“Idia?” you hummed as he closed his eyes to focus on the darkness behind them, instead of you worried expression. 

He hummed in response. 

“Nurse Goethel said that the remedy is actually quick and easy, right?”

He hummed again.  

“You’ll just keep coughing hydrangeas until you do something, right?”

“...Yea.” Idia replied in a monotone voice. 

You sighed, a bit in frustration he thinks. “So?”

“...So?”

“Why don’t you?” You stretched out the last vowel with a questioning sound.

“Why don’t I?” Idia mimicked you. 

"Why don't you just confess?"

“Wha?” He yelped, looking at you like you’d grown heads like a hydra. “W-what do y-you mean, confess!? Are you crazy?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, “It would help, wouldn’t it? And Nurse Goethel said it’s rare for it to not be reciprocated, so what do you have to lose?”

“First of all, what’s left of my dignity. Second, I’m not some ML in a romance manhwa. And, third!” Idia straightened up to look you in the eyes, a burst of confidence filling his veins in pure frustration and annoyance. “There’s no way that anyone would be interested in some loser like me, so what’s the point—”

“But I like you!”

Silence fell between you two as the realization of your words settled into both your minds. You, with a growing blush and look of embarrassment, and Idia gaping at you like a fish out of water.”

“Huh.”

“I said,” You murmured, twiddling with the ends of your hair. “That I like you. A lot. I think you’re really fun to be around, you’re even though you're shy and kinda geeky, you’re really passionate about the stuff you like. Idia.”

Your hand reached for his, hesitantly like you were afraid you’d burn him. As you laced your fingers together, Idia felt a lump form in his throat. He kept silent though, watching as you smiled shyly. 

“You’re sweet to your brother, and I notice, to me sometimes too. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you coming out to class more often so we could hang? I missed you this week…it was really lonely without you, even with all my friends.”

Still holding his hand, you leaned in closer to his face, looking at him earnestly. Was this real? Did he unlock a secret route with you without noticing? Why did you keep looking at his lips? OMG WAS THIS REAL—

“Idia,” You snapped him out of his thoughts as the distance between you two kept closing. “If the person you like doesn’t return your feelings, then they didn’t deserve you in the first place. I’ll be there to support you, even if you don’t like me the same way, I’ll always care for you as your friend—”

“But it is you.” Idia blurted out. Whether it was due to a mysterious burst of energy or just a slip of the tongue, he didn’t know. 

“W-what! Idia, you don’t have to try and make me feel—” you tried to stutter an excuse, cheeks pink like the fiery tips of his hair. 

“It’s you! I got this cause of you, cause I knew—I thought,” Idia started to ramble, getting up to grab you by the shoulders and shake. “I thought that you couldn’t like some weirdo like me. Are you telling me I could’ve snatched an SSR level kiss scene with you at any time??!!”

It was your turn to be shocked, a bewildered look in your eyes and Idia rapidly spoke, taking little breaths between sentences.

“Do you know what you do to me?? The thoughts, the dreams I have about you? I see you and get all hot and bothered and you’re telling me that I didn’t have to be some maidenless normie this entire time? I could’ve been lockin’ lips and getting my dick we—”

A sharp shriek leaving Idia’s mouth was muffled as you shoved your lips into his, effectively shutting up his rant. He whimpered as you swiped your tongue along his lips, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Idia, perhaps in the throes of passion, or not wanting to miss out on this once in a lifetime pull, reciprocated, albeit with a nervous hesitation. 

You seemed to approve, pressing your chest against his as your mouth moved against his, tongues dancing and moans being shared between half taken breaths. His hands hovered over you until you let go of his neck to guide his hands and place them over your hips. An arousing moan left your lips as your hands gently pushed his chest. 

Idia’s world slightly shifted as he fell back first into the bed, your hair creating a curtain as you separated from him. A line of shiny spit followed you, breaking as he gasped for breath while you leaned back down to press kisses against his neck, flowering the disappearing hydrangeas. 

He yelped as your teeth scraped a particularly sensitive spot, opening his mouth to blurt out, “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” 

You let out a breathless giggle, turning your head and resting your chin on his neck to look up at him with, he swears on the Star Rouge sequel, hearts in your eyes. “Why?” 

“If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” Idia chuckled, “I’m sorry you have to deal with such a coward like me.”

“Idia.” You firmly responded, “Don’t. I like you as you are. We’re both young, we have time to grow. I’ll grow with you, if you’ll have me?

Looking down at you, practically on top of him, Idia opened his mouth to tease your softness, and suddenly froze. The mortifying, though wonderful he had to admit, scene was dawning on him as his entire body heated up and turned red. 

“Uuuuuwwwwwahaaahahahahaha—you’reontopofmethere’sagirlontopofmeisthisanewlevelinyourouteIdidn’tprepareforthis—mmmfph!”

You effectively shut him up with another kiss to his lips, smiling as Idia was shocked into silence with a dopy, wobbly smile forming on his lips.

“Relax, Idia, I’ll take the lead on all the romance stuff until you get the hang of it. For now you can be my player two!”

Idia snorted, smirking at you as he teased, “That’s such a cringey thing to say~”

“You say things like that all the time!” 

The two of you shared a soft laugh, unaware of the audience of two at the door watching. Ortho recorded the memory for the wedding he was already planning in his head, while the nurse muttered to herself about wasting time gathering ingredients for a prescription potion she no longer needed. Despite this, she smiled, happy that her little words of encouragement to the Prefect earlier worked. 

[navstuffs]

Traffic stop

Pairing: Rookie!Leon Kennedy x BustyF!Reader

Summary: Your sports bra malfunctions during a traffic stop with a shy rookie cop.

Warnings: au obvs, happens in raccoon city, wrote with a busty reader in mind but anyone can read it, shy!leon, accidental exposure, suggestive themes, speeding (DRIVE SAFE PEOPLE!!)

Author's Notes: kudos to my husband for giving me the idea/title. if anyone would like to write a smut version of this, i also wouldn't mind, just let me know! i do have another plan for re2 leon in works cause he is my baby. hope you enjoy your reading!

my leon's masterlist | part 2

It is still hot, you think as you exit the gym after an exhausting leg day. You decide to wear your sports bra while driving home since your car's air conditioner has not worked since you bought it. You always think you will have money to fix it or even buy a new car, but you must work with what you have now.

You sigh, throwing your bag and your shirt on the backseat. The pain in your legs will only worsen, so you decide to drive fast to get home, shower, and relax. And oh, yes, hope the wind provides some sort of comfort on your face. Placing your sunglasses in your eyes, you start going, mentally praying you wouldn't see any cop.

But of course, this isn't your lucky day.

Not even ten minutes on the road, the sound of the siren from a car of Raccoon City P.D. is behind you. You groan an audible no, asking mentally what you did to deserve this.

"Perfect. Great," Your murmur.

You pull into a nearby parking lot, take the paperwork from the glove compartment and throw it in the passenger seat, the air already getting stagnant inside the car, making you sweat.

Your eyes roam to the rearview mirror, wondering where the heck that cop was, when you notice the zipper of your sports bra is half open. You attempt to zip it, but it immediately unzips it again, leaving half of your cleavage exposed. You think it doesn't look bad, so you leave it alone. It is not like you were driving topless anyway.

With droplets of sweat on your forehead, you see the cop coming out in your driver-side mirror. Finally, you think as he takes his sweet time to get to you. He looks young. He seems to take a breath before walking to your car, pulling his pants up and his other hand on his gun, and even someone who doesn't understand anything about cops would know this guy is a rookie.

He approaches slowly and carefully, analyzing your old car, and when he finally stops by your window, the first thing you catch is a pair of innocent blue eyes. Staring right at you.

"Good afternoon, ma'am." You read the name tag Leon Kennedy as his eyes go from your face to your sports bra half open. Officer Leon probably has a great view since your car is on the lower side. He gulps, you don't know if nervousness or something else, then stares directly above your head.

"Afternoon."

"Do you know how fast you were going?" Oh, this one is definitely a rookie, with his voice still showing some nervousness.

"Yeap, I know."

You really don't want to prolong this more than it should, and the way Leon Kennedy seems to stare everywhere except you proves he wants the same.

"Look. I was just trying to get home. Just issue the ticket, and I will be on my way. I will behave, I promise."

That clearly sounded more seductive than you meant to be. You don't judge yourself as a woman who could get out of a ticket by flirting; honestly, you didn't care at this moment. Your whole body is getting sweaty and sticky, with a few drops of sweat coming down from your neck, and your legs are literally pulsating with pain. It is worth trying.

And just for the right timing, you feel a single drop of sweat coming down from your neck to your cleavage. Leon Kennedy's blue eyes follow the trail until the drop disappears inside your bra top, and he gulps, licking his lips.

Well, you may be one of those women who can get away from a ticket by flirting.

"License and breas— I mean, car registration, please."

Leon thanks mentally you don't seem to hear his mispronunciation. You grunt, impatience, turning to grab your documents for Leon. When you turn back at him to hand them, your zipper finally gives up, opening it up completely. It is a nice feeling at first, the same feeling you have from having your boobs released after a long day.

For a moment, you both don't move, too mortified. Officer Leon Kennedy is now staring, really staring, at your boobs. He doesn't even attempt to look away, his face entirely red as a tomato. Your immediate reaction is to try to close the zipper, but it seems it had enough. Leon finally turns around, mumbling an apology.

"I am sorry, I am so sorry, Officer!" You groan as you give up on zipping, going for the shirt under your bag in the back seat. 

"It-it is fine!" Leon rushes to say, his voice going high a few tones. If this wasn't embarrassing as it was, you would have laughed at the poor rookie's reaction. But now, great, you were probably going to be arrested for public indecency. You finally find a towel, a medium one, that might work. You cover yourself as best as you can.

After Leon gives you a few moments of privacy, he turns back to face you, and you know, by the expression on his face, you are doomed. You were probably getting arrested for trying to seduce a cop-out of a ticket. 

"You can go, ma'am."

"What? Like that?" You wonder before stopping yourself.

"Well, y-yeah. I can see you have much bigger problems to deal with it. Have a good day."

Leon gives you one good final look, a strange glow in his eyes. It seems he wants to say something else, but the moment passes. Leon gives you a slight smirk, his face still red, and walks back to his car.

You watch Leon drive away, your gazes somewhat crossing before he disappears into traffic. You sigh, the external heat forgotten, hoping this isn't your last encounter with Leon Kennedy.

[tojisun]

simon is a thirst trap king okay ???

especially in a relationship with you. he loovveesss sending thirst trap videos and pics cause he's a fucking whore and he LOVES your reactions.

imagine he sends you this video of himself walking in the rain in a thin t-shirt that hugs his muscles:

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8JJerVp/

I'M S(CREAMING) 🛐🛐🛐🛐

also simon lowkey has a tik tok where he posts these thirst traps because YOU want him to 😭

OH MY GODDD

im giggling but simon is a thirst trap king for sure!! his body is great, with the scars and all, and he knows it and i love that so much!

it starts with a gym pic—a black compression shirt, some shorts, and his beautiful tatted delts on display. has your mouth watering so you send him appreciative comments, chirping how he looks good and that wow he should really come home soon. (he did lol)

then it exploded into something permanent when you posted it on your socials—“ribbon challenge with my man” and it’s him tearing through the pink bow on his bicep by flexing, and people, rightfully so, are interesteddd

he starts an account per your suggestion, and every post a video he’s already sent you so he always dedicates them to you. he always tags your user in every post, and there are no hashtags or anything, and he limits the comments to only you because you’re truly the only target audience he needs 🙂‍↕️

sure his friends start featuring in them (number one liked video was when he dumped his phone on price and this man was so sleep deprived, he thought he’s on a facetime call or smthn and just started murmuring, “hey. yeah how are you?” (this greeting is just muscle memory) “sorry i can’t hear you well because the kids (he means the boys) are loud but when are they not. hello? i cant hear you—” he brought the phone close to his forehead. “hello? simon! the call’s been dropped, i think!”) but it’s always videos of him flexing, or showing off his back, or his tits to you first then to the masses LOL

but yea this man thirst traps well. needs to tease you first, you know?

(you start retaliating and, well, simon can no longer let the lads borrow his phone)

[quixotical-lymbo]

HIIII, could you write a short fic about Wukong x Macaque x afab reader (cause reader would most likely be the one to get pregnant except if one of the other two would shapeshift but idk)

basically debating or not if they should have kids? like one is on the fence, the other is totally for it and one has literally never thought about that before 😭 (just chaotic ASF)

please with whipped cream and a cherry on top !! and if not it's ok :3

Pairing: Wukong x afab!Reader x Macaque Rating: SFW-ish Summary: Getting ready for bed leads to a discussion about a potential next step in your relationship with your partners.  Warnings/Tags: Wukong himself is a warning, suggestive themes but not very explicit, chaotic, fluff, typical arguments of you know who, topics of pregnancy and children. Word Count: 1900+ words 

You ducked your head and spat the remains of toothpaste and spit into the sink bowl, only to raise your head to face your reflection in the mirror. You glanced over your face to make sure there was no trace of toothpaste left before turning the faucet off and placing your toothbrush in the nearby cup along with two brushes within it. 

You hadn't even taken two steps inside your shared bedroom before hearing the hushed whispers between your lovers—it was a rare sight to see both monkey's in the same bed. Both were wearing the pajamas you specifically bought for nights like these—where the three of you had enough time to spend it together, even if that meant just sleeping within each other's vicinity.

Macaque wore a two-piece pajama set; a t-shirt with dark purple pants that had stars littering the pant legs. Wukong had a brighter nightgown with a sun symbol knitted on the chest area, a nightcap, and insisted on getting the eye mask with realistic eye designs on them. 

Although these peaceful night's weren't always…peaceful. That was to be expected.

Macaque's smirking scowl and Wukong's frown gave you enough hints to know that whatever they were talking about was something semi-serious. You cleared your throat before giggling at the sigh of them scrambling to look like they hadn't finished a heated debate for the past five minutes.

You crawled onto the bed and laid within the free space between them. Wukong turned to face you as did Macaque. The latter brought the blankets up to cover all three of you before the lights were turned off. 

Soft, slow exhales filled the silence. You were ambushed by the warmth on both of your sides, Macaque's arm possessively thrown over your torso and Wukong's tail snaked around your leg as he held your bicep gently.

Your eyes stared at the ceiling above, recalling the events of the day as your breathing slowed with every fleeting memory. Your vision blurred before the darkness consumed your thoughts and you began to lose feeling in your fingers. The heavy, comfortable weight of exhaustion finally had its hold on you. 

"...?" 

Your eyes fluttered open as you lazily turned to the monkey who had called your name ever so gently, as if afraid of startling you awake. You found a pair of pretty golden eyes staring back at you in the dark, the sight causing you to hum–urging him to continue. Beside you, the hand on your bicep squeezed lightly as Wukong tensed up. 

"Macaque…" Wukong's warning tone woke up a bit. The confusion added with the sudden tension that settled in the room made you nervous. 

"Huh?" You were left even more gobsmacked than before. Perhaps you didn't hear him right. "Do I want…lids?" 

"Do you want kids?"

"No, no, sweet stuff." Macaque kissed the side of your head, his words tickling your earlobe as he murmured into your ear. "Kids. Do you want them?" 

"Where is this coming from?" 

"Yeah, we'd looove to know," Wukong drawled as he sat up, his eyes narrowing at his dark-furred counterpart. "It's not like some of us have to wake up early tomorrow, oh noooo, let's drop an entire mountain of a topic on us and not sleep for the rest of the night." 

Macaque clicked his tongue as he rolled his eyes, "You're exaggerating." 

"Exaggerating?! You're the one who-!" 

"-guys, guys, calm down," Your sharp voice silenced the two as you moved to sit up with Wukong. The aforementioned simian clamped his trap shut as he laid his head against your shoulder, Macaque was the only one still laying—his arm now stroking shapes on your belly. "Mac, babe, is this a actual question or are you just horny-" 

 "Serious." Macaque interjected. 

"-Alright," You sighed as you rolled your head on your shoulders. You mumbled a quick apology to Wukong as your head bumped against his. "Guess we're doing this now…my honest answer? I dunno, never really gave kids a lot of thought…what about you guys?" 

"Kids are okay," Wukong admitted. "I mean, look at MK, he's great and all…but a baby? Raising an actual child is a lot more difficult than one might think."

"Like you know anything about raising a child," Macaque snickered as he peeked around your body to smirk as Wukong sent a heated glare his way. "I know it might be difficult for most people to actually be responsible, but for me? I could take such good care of our child, sugarplum." 

Macaque continued. His hand ran up and down your thigh as he slowly rose to lay most of his weight against you. Your brow rose in amusement at the glint shimmering in Macaque's eye. "Think about how cute they would be, our mini me running around the house and-"

"-...causing a mess, like a certain troublemaker I know," Wukong interrupted. "Look, hun, I would love nothing more for OUR-" Macaque didn't have time to react before you were yanked out of his hold and pulled into the king's lap. "-kid to exist, but aren't MK and Mei enough right now? Heh-...I mean, think about how much they are…like imagine me but smaller, cuter, and ten times more-" 

"-smellier? Yeah, what a nightmare that'd be," Macaque grabbed you by your ankles. You squealed before laughing as you were pulled underneath Macaque, who hovered over you with his hands groping the meat of your thighs. Macaque grinned wildly as he leaned down, "If he thinks having a kid is too much for him, then he won't have to worry about that for a couple of months since you'll be having my kid first." 

"Slow down, tall, dark and handsome…you haven't even taken me to dinner yet," You teased as you reached up to caress the side of his face. 

Macaque's content filled sigh sounded heavenly as he melted against your touch—such affection that could leave him in that weakened and vulnerable state. Macaque nuzzled his cheek into the softness of your palm. 

Wukong's face scrunched up at this display before he slapped his hand over Macaque's face and pushed him out of your frame of view. He too began hovering over your laid form while he hissed at Macaque, "Who said you'll be having the baby first? This is a joint decision between all of us! Don't be selfish, bud." 

Macaque chuckled as he swatted Wukong's hand away, "You seem pretty against the idea of having a kid, no point in involving you since you won't be the one carrying." 

"Psh, well, who would want a kid now of all time or with you? We just got finished with the whole end-of-the-universe situation and barely had a break since and you want a kid now?!" Wukong threw his arms in the air. 

"Is there going to be another chance for us–all of us–to be together like this? I dunno, before another disaster starts again? You know just as much as me that this 'calm before the storm' is not going to last forever," Macaque snapped back. "And I much rather spend that time knowing I'm doing everything I've ever wanted to do with them, and what does that say about you? Oh right, always the one to hide away and never confront his problems, typical Wukong—thinking only about himself and his interests." 

"Ha! my 'interests' are what keeps us safe and thinking rationally! Obviously that means 'm the more responsible one here!" Wukong bared his teeth, his tail swishing behind him in short, swift bursts. 

"That's a first, congratulations."

"Oh, you pretentious fuck-" 

Before you could stop them, hisses and snarls were unleashed as Wukong launched himself at Macaque and tackled him off of the bed. You rolled onto your stomach and pulled yourself to peer over the edge to watch the two of them duke it out. You rested your face in your hand half-relieved that they were 'play' fighting instead of actually tearing each other's throats out. You winced as Wukong put Macaque in a headlock, but Macaque managed to escape long enough to flip their positions. You ducked just in time as Wukong's nightcap flew past your head. 

"Hey! Watch it!" You spoke, but your words fell on deaf ears as Macaque got pinned for the nth time with Wukong's hands squeezing at his throat. 

It was safe to say the argument wasn't over even when they continued to tumble around on the carpet. 

"-and you're only thinking with that tiny thing between your legs-"

"Oh? That tiny thing that had you choking so hard you were cu-" 

"-GUYS!" 

The two monkeys stopped and turned their heads to stare at your unimpressed face, Wukong's nightcap hanging loosely from your index finger. Sheepishly, the two crawled off of each other and knelt before you. You leaned forward and placed Wukong's cap back on before rubbing the underside of his chin, the king's face turned to mush as he was left leaning forward when you pulled your hand away to run it through Macaque's hair. 

"Look, I see both sides. I get that we might not have enough time as we do now, but there's no need to rush something so…important." You admitted, your eyes straining in the dark to carefully observe their expressions.

Macaque's eyes strayed from yours as Wukong's chest slightly puffed out. A sigh left your lips while your rehearsal of playing mediator for both sides ran in your mind. "I'm happy that you're ready to participate in such a big commitment with us, Macaque, but right now? Everything is fine and we definitely need to talk more about this than just deciding to have kids without a proper discussion-" 

"HA-!" 

"-but, on the off chance that something does happen then I'm not entirely against having a child right now." The corner of your lip twitched upward as Wukong deflated. It was Macaque's turn to stare smugly at Wukong.

You shook your head and slipped off of the edge of the bed to sit before the two, wrapping your arms around each of their heads as you brought them close to rest your head against theirs. "Wukong, I need you to know that even if we aren't ready for such a responsibility right now, at least we'll have each other…right? And when have you ever shied away from the chance to be irresponsible?" 

Wukong let out a breathless chuckle as Macaque snort made your grin stretch. 

"This is…different." 

"Yes, it can be scary and something we'll never be ready for…but I'll be glad knowing I'm doing it with you two," You lowered your hands from their head to their cheeks and planted a kiss on Wukong's nose before turning to peck Macaque's temple. Wukong lurched forward to pepper your cheek in kisses as Macaque grabbed a hold of your retreating hand to kiss each knuckle. 

The sweet and tender moment broke as you wiggled from their kisses to ask, "So…are you two gonna kiss and make up now?" 

Wukong and Macaque blinked at you before turning to meet each other's bewildered gazes. 

"Over my dead body," Macaque teased as he grabbed a hold of Wukong's nightgown in his fist.  

"Hmph, that can be arranged again," Wukong taunted as he pushed his forehead against Macaque's. 

You simply watched on as they began to aggressively hug it out. 

What a sight to behold before bed. 

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!

[photo1030]

Pls do a fic or smthing where readers old guy friend finds her and they reconnect and they’re both crying and Arthur is like who is this and reader is like he’s my closest friend from home I haven’t seen him in ages and Arthur is all jealous kinda

Hi, Kids!

So sorry for the wait. Life has been busy, but I've been plugging away on this one. Thank you so much for this "ask"! This was actually an idea that I had for my regular "Arthur x reader" fic, so I was happy to oblige. I wrote this to coincide with my reg fic and I decided to go more angsty than smutty for this one, so I hope that is OK for the Anon who asked.

**Special thanks to @readingcoco for beta-reading for me. Your help was priceless.

LEATHER AND LACE - SAY HELLO TO AN OLD FRIEND

Summary: Arthur is none too pleased when you run into an old friend from your previous life. 

*This is not my image. This belongs to Rafa on Pintrest. Beautiful work there.

Masterlist

Tagging: @daisybvck

The banging of an anvil echoes heavily in your ears, the deafening ringing thumping in your brain. You and Arthur have wandered into the busy town of Cripple Creek to see the local farrier. You have spent the last day hunting and while coming down through the valley pass, your horse, Blue, had thrown a shoe. Never one to neglect your horse, you insisted Arthur take you into the closest town to get him some attention immediately. 

Now, Arthur is a firm believer in taking proper care of one’s horse, as a man’s horse means his survival. But the way you fuss over this spoiled animal as if he were your child causes Arthur to just chuckle and shake his head at you. 

Coming out of the farrier’s building, you shield the sun from your eyes as you look around at the townspeople. The area seems pleasant enough. It is a depot location for one of the railroad lines, so there is a lot of traffic. People are coming and going, always in a hurry to go somewhere or nowhere. But always in a hurry to get there all the same. 

You passed several pungent livestock farms on the way here, but now you can inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh air being pulled into your lungs. A slight breeze kicks up, lifting the soft tendrils of hair that frame your face to sway gently in its wake.

Arthur looks over as he lights his cigarette, amused at how your eyes roll closed and your whole body relaxes in a rare moment of peace and quiet. He really should get you out of that camp more often. Maybe he’ll hold off a bit on returning home, and the two of you can spend some more time alone together.

You can feel the bulk of him leaning in closer to you as his gloved hand runs down your spine to land on the small of your back. “Well, what do ya think? Should we get a room for the night or just rut about in the woods like we usually do?” 

Your lips pull into a smile at his suggestion, and when you open your eyes, you are met with Arthur’s twinkling suggestively at you. Your face immediately brightens as you turn your body into him, hands finding their way to his broad chest. Your fingertips play with the upturned collar of his faded black button-down shirt. Giggling with excitement at the idea, you push up onto your tiptoes, your nose flirtatiously inches from his. Arthur’s hands settle comfortably at your hips, his arms enfolding you.

“Y/N? Y/F&LN, is that you?”

 A vaguely familiar voice distracts you from answering Arthur’s question, but you can’t quite place it. Turning your head in confusion, you search for the source, and suddenly, your eyes widen with recognition. 

“Robert?” Your gaze lands on a tall, slender man making his way through the crowd towards you. He is well-dressed in a blue and gold brocade vest and has auburn hair neatly combed back. He’s sporting more facial hair than you remember, giving him a distinguished look. He’s a bit older now, but you’d recognize that wide, toothy smile anywhere. An unexpected shriek of excitement escapes your lips as your hands slip away from Arthur. “Robert!!”

Arthur stands there dumbfounded as he watches excitement overtake your whole body as you run into the waiting arms of this mystery man. Who in the hell is this person? And why did you just abandon Arthur to embrace him like that? You and this strange man hug each other tightly, laughing and smiling as if God himself had gifted you each other.

“I thought you were dead, Y/N!” the man exclaims, holding you at arm’s length so he can take a good look at you. 

“I thought you went to Europe! I thought I’d never see you again!” you laugh incredulously. Shaking your head in wonder, you throw your arms around the man’s neck again.

Arthur stands quietly, eyebrows knitted together, lips pulled into a thin line. He doesn’t like this one bit. The only person he’s ever seen you this excited over is him. Arthur’s fingers tap impatiently along his belt where his hands sit idle, as he waits for you to finish this reunion. Eventually, he clears his throat to try to turn your attention back to him.

Finally remembering yourself, you turn towards Arthur. “Arthur, this is Robert, my best friend.” Arthur’s eye catches how your arm eagerly loops around the man’s elbow. “We knew each other as kids. We grew up together back east!” You continue to gush as you present your old friend to your current lover. “Robert, this is Arthur.” You motion to the mountain of a man standing to your right. 

Robert’s face lights up as he boldly strides closer, extending his hand out to shake Arthur’s. “So nice to meet you, Arthur!” His voice chirps with bravado and swagger, instantly making Arthur’s skin crawl. When Arthur doesn’t reply with the same enthusiasm, Robert turns back to you, eyebrows raised with curiosity. “So, is this your…husband?”

A slight giggle comes from your lips at the suggestion. “No, we’re not married. But he is mine.” You smile proudly at Arthur, your hand reaching over and squeezing his. Arthur smiles down at you as his body drifts slightly closer to yours. His strong arm snakes around your waist until you rest protectively against him. When he sees you beaming at him, it sets him at ease a bit with this intruder and he tries to relax a little. 

“Robert, is it? Well, Robert, looks like you and Y/N go way back, huh?” Arthur asks, trying not to come off as annoyed as he feels right now. 

“Oh boy, do we. We used to get in all kinds of trouble together.” Robert waves his hand in emphasis, then reaches out to tap your arm. “Y/N, remember when we used to sneak out and stay up ‘til 3:00 in the morning?”

You cover your mouth in embarrassment. “God, if my father ever found out what we were up to, he’d have taken a belt to me for sure!” you roll your eyes.

Robert’s dark eyes fall upon you with a sweet and nostalgic look, one held with affection of a time long past. “Used to be you and me, spitting off the edge of the world, right?” He leans over to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from Arthur and into his side.

You smile affectionately back at your friend, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. You and me.” 

‘You and me’ - The phrase sticks in Arthur’s brain, a phrase you should only be using in reference to him… not some other random fella. His lip curls into a slight sneer of contempt, however, you are too caught up in the camaraderie with your friend to notice. 

“We need to catch up! Come on, let’s get a drink and a bite to eat. I want to know everything that’s been going on with you since we last saw each other,” insists Robert, tugging on the sleeve of your white cotton tunic. 

“Oh, yes!” You turn towards Arthur. “Can we, Arthur? We have time, don’t we?”

Right now, Arthur wants nothing more than to get you away from this man, this town and everyone else in the world. But he can’t say no to that wishful look on your face. He doesn’t have the heart to crush your hope. That has always been Arthur’s weakness:  he can never say no to you. 

“Fine, I guess we got some time to spare,” Arthur reluctantly agrees, trying to hide the disdain that threatens to break through his patient facade. You clasp your hands together, giving a little hop of excitement.

The three of you turn to head down the side of the street, with you and Robert chit-chatting incessantly the whole time. As you stroll along, Robert explains how he has become a lawyer and is traveling to California to take care of some estate affairs for a prominent family. He is just stopping for a layover in Cripple Creek to catch a connecting train.

Instead of going to a saloon, you reach a little restaurant along the main strip in town and head inside. Robert orders a bottle of the best liquor the bar has to offer, and you all sit around a table as he proceeds to tell you of all the gossip from back home. 

Robert is so animated and full of life and fun, not caring at all about the judgmental looks of others as he loudly tells you anecdote after anecdote. But he’s always been like this. For as long as you’ve known him Robert doesn’t care what anyone thinks and therefore is free to do as he pleases. This is something that you have always loved about him and why you were such good friends when you were younger. He was a breath of fresh air in a stuffy upper-class world. And to be honest, you always had a bit of a crush on him, too.

“So, David and Clare got married, you know,” he smirks. Of course, Robert is referring to your ex-fiance who you were betrothed to, who, as it turned out, was sleeping with your friend the whole time. 

“I figured as much,” you reply dismissively.

“Huge obnoxious wedding, of course.” Robert waves his hand with a flourish.

You huff out an unimpressed chuckle. “I figured as much,” you repeat again.

“Wasn’t even six months, and the rumors were flying about his infidelity.” Robert laughs at the absurdity of it. You roll your eyes and take a large swig from your glass. “You dodged a bullet there, my friend.” Robert gives you a wink. 

Arthur has to stifle a snicker at the irony of the man’s choice of language.

“Probably should’ve just married you myself,” smiles Robert. The statement makes you blush a bit under Robert’s affectionate gaze. But it is a statement that sets Arthur on edge. 

Arthur patiently pretends to listen as you and Robert continue to laugh and joke about old friends and the social scene you left behind, the pair of you growing more and more chummy, until eventually, you find yourself resting a hand on Robert's forearm as you speak. Arthur clenches his fist tightly under the table, his eyes staring at your fingers and watching as they absentmindedly dance along Robert’s arm. It is not intended to be a flirtatious move, as it is a mannerism that you often do when you are excited about what you are talking about. But it is an action that Arthur resents all the same right now. 

You try your best to involve Arthur in the conversation but to be frank, you are discussing people and places that he has no frame of reference for. The only thing that does pique his interest is the way Robert keeps referring to you. That certainly has Arthur's attention. But he has to be careful. He can see how happy you are and doesn't want his temper to burst your little bubble. However, if he had his way, he would be grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the closest hotel to make you forget your own name, let alone another man's.

Arthur hates that you have this “other language” and bond with someone who is not only outside the gang, but outside his class altogether. He’d forgotten where you came from and what you’d given up to be with the Van Der Linde gang and him along with it. And this conversation with this ghost of your past only confirms it. Arthur tries not to glare at Robert as he takes in the man’s fine clothing and clean hands that have probably never seen a day of labor in his life. 

The whole thing is a harsh reminder that Arthur may not only be holding you back in life but actually pushing you down. 

“So,” Robert finally turns his attention away from you, ”What do you do for a living, Art?” Robert asks innocently.

The very sound of Robert’s voice makes Arthur bristle. “The name…is Arthur,” he grits out. “And it’s none of your damn business what I do.” At this point, Arthur wants nothing more than to plant his massive fist in this pompous fool’s face.

You instantly pick up on Arthur’s annoyance. You can see his steel blue eyes set hard as his fist clenches around the glass in his hand. Arthur’s head tilts slightly to the side as he watches Robert, and you know from experience that he is measuring the man up. Robert is only being nice, ever the extravert, but he has no idea what sort of man is sitting across from him. 

“Easy now, Arthur,” you chuckle nervously as you pat his burly forearm. “Robert is only asking out of curiosity.” Arthur shoots you a look that you can’t quite place. “Arthur does a little bit of everything,” you quickly answer Robert to avoid further awkwardness. “He’s done bounty work, loan collecting, things like that.”

“Interesting,” muses Robert. 

“Well, I’d rather be an honest sinner than a lying hypocrite,” asserts Arthur as he levels his gaze across the table at Robert.

“I assume you work with horses quite a bit, too, then?” Robert pushes as his eyes roam up and down over Arthur.

“I do.”

“Figured as much. You seem pretty ‘rough and rugged’ like the cowboys we read about back in the city.” Arthur’s eyebrows knit as his mouth turns into a slight frown. “Oh, I don’t mean anything by it, friend! You look fantastic!” Robert insists. “In fact, I couldn’t be happier for Y/N. Looks like she’s got herself a real man. Those sniveling, uppity simpletons back home were never her type.”

“And I assume you are?” Arthur asks. This causes you to look at him questioningly. 

“Me? Oh, no. We were never like that.” Robert waves the comment off, not reading the underlying meaning of Arthur’s question.

“He’s right. Being married to Robert would be like being married to a puppy,” you joke, trying to lighten the ominous mood that Robert is thankfully oblivious to.

“True. But, you have to admit, we would have made quite the pair, wouldn’t we?” Robert leans over and nudges you in the side with that wide smile of his again. 

Arthur roughly grabs his glass of whiskey and throws it back, the bitter liquor hitting his throat, before he slams the glass down onto the table. 

“What are you gettin’ at, there, Robert? Hmm? You think Y/N would be better off with you than me? Is that it?” The icy stare that Arthur throws at Robert is cold enough to frost the windows of the room. His chiseled jaw sets tightly, his body tense as if about to explode. Your stomach drops as you realize that Robert has indeed crossed a line with Arthur, whether he has intended to or not. And you find yourself at an impasse:  do you stand by your man, or do you defend your oldest and dearest friend?

Finally, seeing that Arthur is not amused by his antics, Robert takes the hint and clears his throat nervously. “Well, it has been so wonderful to catch up with you, Y/N!” He stands up from the table and adjusts his vest, running his hand over his hair to make sure everything is still in its place. You and Arthur stand as well in anticipation of the farewell. You are reluctant to say goodbye to your friend, and Arthur is anxious to leave. 

The three of you silently file out of the little restaurant together and onto the busy sidewalk.

“I truly hope we can do this again sometime soon, Y/N. Maybe if I swing through these parts again, I’ll reach out.” Robert says hopefully.

“I’d like that, Robert. Please do.” You affectionately place your hand on his arm. “I’ve missed you quite a bit since I’ve been out here.” You give each other a tight hug, one that lasts a bit longer than Arthur’s liking. But then again, Arthur doesn’t like anyone touching you for any reason. 

“Arthur, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Robert smiles and sticks his arm out to shake Arthur’s hand again, which he reluctantly does. Arthur’s large hand dwarfs Robert’s as it clamps down extra hard. “Take good care of our girl, yes?” 

“Sure,” Arthur deadpans. “Our girl.”

Robert gives you both an awkward smile and turns to head back down the street towards the train depot. Your eyes follow him as your chest feels heavy at having to say goodbye to a part of your past. 

When you turn back to Arthur to thank him for his patience, you are met with his hard face. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he snaps. 

Sighing in exasperation, you cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t give me that.” You knew this argument was coming. 

“Just that you seem awfully close with that Robert fella.” The contempt in Arthur’s voice is not lost on you.

“Well, yeah, he’s my best friend.” 

Arthur’s jaw clenches just a bit more at your answer. “Uh-huh.”

Your head tilts slightly to the side, eyes narrowing as you study him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Like I said, you two seem awfully close.” His voice drops low and slow, almost spitting out the words like a spoiled piece of meat.

“That’s because we are. He was the only true friend I had, Arthur.” You shuffle your weight from hip to hip, becoming increasingly uncomfortable under Arthur’s scrutiny. You suddenly feel like one of his marks.

“Uh-huh.” Arthur’s simple responses quickly escalates your annoyance as you watch him pull a cigarette out of his pocket, striking the match on the nearby building with enough force that the wooden stick almost snaps between his fingertips. 

“Oh my God, are you jealous?” you ask, disturbed at the turn in the conversation. 

“Nope.” Dipping his head down, his eyes are hidden by his dusty, worn hat as his fingers bring the cigarette back up to his lips. 

“No?”

“Alright, maybe I am,” he suddenly spins on you, face turning crimson. “Maybe I don’t like how excited you get to see another man. Maybe I don’t like you all laughing and smiling at someone else.” 

Your heart begins to pound in your ears, taken aback by his surge of anger. “Arthur-”

“Don’t!” he barks at you. “Just…don’t! I can’t compete with that, and you know it!” He points his finger accusingly at you. 

“Arthur, I'm not asking you to compete with anyone! In fact, there’s a reason why I left all that behind.” You step towards him, arms raised to embrace him, but he blocks your hands with his own.

“Save it!” And he storms off, leaving you standing there on the sidewalk. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, leaving you queasy. A storm of guilt, frustration, and yes even anger, rages inside your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you try to make sense of what just happened.

“Damn it, Arthur,” you mutter. 

—---------------------------------------------------

Rather than chase after him, you decide to leave Arthur be and give him time to cool off. There’s no talking to him when he gets like this, as it usually escalates into a fight if you push it. You feel awful for making him feel bad, as you are well aware of how self-conscious he is. But then again, what about your feelings? You have every right to visit with an old friend and a dear one at that. Yes, you know how it looks. You and Robert always did have a special bond that bordered on the flirtatious side. But you love Arthur. And he knows that. You love him with a depth that could swallow the stars. And you are getting tired of having to constantly prove that to him.

After an hour of wandering the local shops to stall for time, you decide to find Arthur, knowing exactly where you’ll find him. Your boot heels click along the worn floorboard of the porch outside of the saloon. You can hear the chatter and piano music coming from inside. You look through the window, eyes searching for your target. Between the small sea of dusty hats and hulking shoulders, you catch sight of that familiar form that you seek. 

Walking into the building, your hands roll over each other, fingers intertwining, as you take a shaky breath when you approach Arthur at the bar. You glide onto the stool beside him, fidgeting slightly to get comfortable. He sits quietly, still brooding with a menacing vibe radiating off of him. You motion to the bartender, who walks over when he catches your eye. “What’ll it be, Miss?”

“A beer, please.” 

“Comin’ right up”. It only takes a minute for him to grab a bottle and set it next to the coin you’ve already placed for him. His thick, ready fingers pick it up off the bar top with a pleasant nod of approval as he sets about his previous task. 

You spin the bottle between your fingertips, looking at Arthur from the corner of your eye. “So, are we going to talk about this?”

He continues to sulk quietly, lifting a shot of whiskey to his lips and downing it in one. His jaw clenches at the sting of the cheap liquor, but he promptly pours another shot into the diminutive glass, the bottle half empty at this point.

“Alright, fine.” You take a swig of your beer.

“Where’s your ‘friend’?” Arthur grunts without even looking at you. 

“Robert is about to get on a train.”

“Mmhmm”.

“Arthur-”

“Alright, look, I’m sorry,” he interupts, slicing his hand through the air as if to end the argument right here. “Please don’t make a big deal outta this.”

“What were you worried about? That I’d run off with Robert?”

“Wouldn’t you?” he blurts out bitterly.

“You can’t be serious?” Your face twists up in shock. He only answers you with a snort of derision. “Arthur, I was excited to see an old friend. That’s all,” you stress emphatically. “You have to remember, I am surrounded by your people, your family, all of the time. This is the first time I’ve seen someone from my previous life.” Your tone unwittingly begins to take on one of annoyance as you try to plead your case. But it is an argument that is falling on deaf and angry ears.

“I’m sorry, I thought the gang was ‘your people’, too,” he bites back. Arthur can be a reasonable man until he is provoked, and then reason doesn’t factor in at all. 

“Well, they are,” you backpedal sheepishly at his harshness. Your gaze falters to land on the bottle in your hands before attempting to meet Arthur’s again. “But you know what I mean. You can’t be angry because I was happy to see someone from my life that, heaven forbid, didn’t involve the Van der Linde gang.” 

Artur just pouts in silence. You are getting really irritated at this point, but trying to remain calm and not cause a scene.

“So you’d just let me run away with Robert rather than talk to me and ask me to stay with you? Is that it?” you huff.

“Couldn't help but notice how excited you were to hear about everything back home. Almost like you miss it. Pretty damn clear after your little visit today that you don’t even belong here. Maybe you should.” And another shot gets poured into the glass.

Damn it, and there it is. The thing that always seems to be present in your relationship:  the idea that you still don’t belong, even after all this time and everything that you’ve done. Arthur still doesn’t see you as “one of them”. And it is a sting that doesn’t sit well with you at all. 

Your eyes begin to well up as you try to fight the lump forming in your throat. ”I can’t believe you just said that to me.” Your lips tremble slightly with emotion, a mix of betrayal and anger swirling and bubbling up inside you like one of Pearson’s stews.

The very insinuation is hurtful to you. You have turned your life upside down for the gang and for him. And yet, it seems it will never be enough. It’s as if you are being punished for having a decent life before you were thrust into this new one. You didn’t fit into society back east, and it seems you still don’t fit here either. 

“Stop with the theatrics. I ain’t in a mood for it.” Arthur slings back another shot of whiskey. 

“You really are an ass sometimes, Arthur,” you stammer in disappointment.

He immediately slams his shot glass down on the bar, shattering it. The action startles you, your eyes shooting wide open. Arthur finally turns to face you now, his eyes burning into you so intensely that it causes you to cringe. You know damn well that you’re not perfect. But, it always made you feel special that Arthur seemed to think so. But the look he’s giving you right now is plain enough for you to know that he no longer believes it. 

And the wounded expression on your face enrages Arthur even more. The sight of you cowering like a lamb to slaughter because of his anger is too much. He’s furious at the everything right now:  you, Robert, this town, and more importantly, himself. He grabs the whiskey bottle on the counter and whips it at the wall, sending shards of glass flying into the thick smokey air to rain down onto the immediate vicinity. 

With your breath shaking, you slowly stand and back away from him. For the first time ever…you are afraid of him.

The tumultuous noise alerts the bartender, who promptly yells at Arthur. “Hey, watch it! You gotta problem, you take it outside! Don’t be causing a ruckus around here!” He shoves his thick, meaty finger towards the doors. 

“Mind your own goddamn business ‘fore I give you a problem!” Arthur shouts back, now standing as well, leveling his gaze at the bartender. 

With Arthur distracted by the barkeep, you turn and push your way through the now-curious crowd and make a dash for the door. 

Your feet clumsily carry you down the steps as you sprint into the street, eyes watering and hands trembling from anger. 

“Hey! Hey! (Y/N)!” It doesn’t take long before you hear Arthur’s gravelly voice hollering down the street for you. 

“Leave me alone, Arthur!” you shout over your shoulder, not even bothering to turn around. Tears of anger are dangerously close to flowing as you walk even faster, your arms pumping back and forth to propel you further down the road. But Arthur is quick to catch up to you with his long strides.

“Where you goin’?” You can hear him quickly stalking up behind you, his spurs jingling heavily in the dirt of the street. 

“Doesn’t matter, right? I don’t belong here, remember?” You throw his words back into his face with such a biting tone. “Maybe I’ll see if there’s a seat next to Robert on the damn train!”

“Like hell you will!” Arthur yanks on your arm, his grip painful like a vice, spinning you around. 

But before you can even think clearly, your hand flies as if of its own accord, and you hear the sharp smack land across his cheek, cracking in the air before you feel the sting against your delicate hand. Arthur’s head snaps to the side from the strike, his eyes twisted shut from the impact.

Gasping, your eyes shoot open in shock as your hands immediately cover your mouth. You stand there, silent and trembling. Your chest heaves with broken breathing and choked sobs as you take a few steps back from him. You hate him so much right now. Not because of what he’s said, although that is bad enough, but because he has pushed you to this point. You never, ever want to hurt him. Arthur is dearer to you than life itself. You had never imagined raising a hand or weapon to the man you so desperately love, and yet, he has pushed you, backed you into a corner, to do so. 

“Oh…I’m sorry,” you utter, the sound barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.” Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears as your unwavering gaze never leaves his face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. As you blink rapidly, a tear finally escapes your lower lash to cascade and roll over your hot cheek. 

Arthur freezes before his gaze slowly turns back to you. But what he sees shocks him. The very sight of you in your heightened state almost breaks his heart in two. Shame coats his insides as he realizes his jealousy has gotten the best of him. And the pain and fear in your eyes is worse than any bullet to the gut, rocking him to his very core. 

Arthur’s expression journeys from one of rage to shock to one of absolute remorse. He says nothing, which begins to terrify you even more. Arthur is known for his temper, even taking his frustrations out on you when needed. You pride yourself on the notion that Arthur may be difficult to handle but never for you. You have always been able to read him, to know his mind better than himself, which is why he relies on you so greatly. You set his world to right when it goes off-kilter. But now, you feel a great divide between you. You stare at him with no idea of what will happen next. 

Arthur’s strong arms extend out towards you as a silent apology. But instead of falling into them, you shrink back from him. He halts immediately, turning his palms up in surrender. But slowly, he steps a bit closer to you. Arthur reaches out again, wrapping his hands carefully around your biceps. He can feel you tremble slightly under his fingertips. 

Regret sits heavily upon his brow. You can see the self-reproach embedded into his eyes as he stares into yours, searching for forgiveness that he prays you’ll grant him.

Your eyes leave his face, a silent understanding settling between you as you focus on the buttons of his shirt, watching as his chest rises and falls with his calming breath. 

With a deep sigh, he silently escorts you into the privacy of the immediate alley, gently pushing you back against the siding of the post office. 

“You’re mine.” Arthur does not say this out of anger or possession. Nor has he faltered into a blubbering mess. He simply utters the statement as pure fact, no question.  

“Am I?” you stammer. Your eyes lift to search his, looking for any doubt that may still linger. 

“You sure as shit are.” Arthur’s voice is low but carries the loving undertone you always take refuge in as the slightest hint of a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“Really? Ten minutes ago, you were ready to let me walk out that door. Told me that I shouldn’t be here.”

Arthur pulls his lips inward at the dismay in your quaking voice. “I shouldn’t ‘ve said that. That was me being a goddamn idiot. But, it is true, ya know. You don’t belong in that gang, Y/N. I keep tellin' ya you’re too good for it. You deserve the finer things in life, things like Robert can give ya.” 

Your shoulders fall with a painful sigh as your eyes gently drift shut again. You are so tired of having this same conversation over and over again.

“But,” he continues, “I do want you there. I want you with me. I need you, Y/N. We need you. It’s selfish, I know.” His chin bobs slightly in acknowledgement. “God forgive me, but we do.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Arthur. I want to belong somewhere. And to someone.” You look at Arthur with an almost desperate expression on your face. Your whole life, you’ve been floating like a leaf in the wind, bobbing about with no particular place to land. You thought you had finally found your place, your home, with the Van Der Linde gang, no matter how unlikely it seemed. And when Arthur threw it back in your face, it was like being pushed off a cliff to free-fall backwards with no one to catch you. 

He lifts his rough hand to cup your face, his thumb ghosting over your cheek. “I won’t ever let you go, Y/N. Not ever. Not even if someone else comes along.” Your eyes begin to flutter again as the feeling of his skin on yours reassures you. You wrap your own hands around his wrist, holding his hand in place as you lean your face into his warm palm.

“Arthur, I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. The way you make me feel when I look at you is why I could never look at another.” Your eyes sparkle brightly in earnest, the last of your tears rimmed along your lashes. 

He only hesitates a moment before he pulls you close to him. He secures you safely against him where you belong, your chest pressed up against his as powerful arms coil around you to lock you in. Arthur lowers his face to nudge your nose with his before planting his lips to kiss you slow and deep, taking your breath away.

When his lips separate from yours, Arthur briefly rests his forehead on yours before pulling back to look into your face once more. His eyes are intense and reflect a deeper shade of blue than you’ve ever seen. A wolfish grin begins to emerge under that peppered beard stubble as his finger tucks a rogue strand of hair behind your ear.

“Like I said, Y/N, you…are…mine.”

[theorphicangel]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 | 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: where better for Toji to ponder on his journey of love than during a late night meal with you?

tags: suggestive and allusions/ mentions of sex but no description (18+), fluff :)

Your bedside alarm clock reflected the red numbers of 10:34pm when you finally heard a key through the door.

With aching limbs you manage to escape from the messy and tangled bedsheets. The scent of sweat, sex and his perfume imprinted on your skin. With a shiver, your bare feet meet the cold oak floor as you manage to pick up one of Toji’s shirts.

It was a black shirt, one which was clearly too big for you but that’s what you love about it.

The black fabric reached past your thighs and tickled at your knees which were bruised and marked with his kisses. Before taking another step you took a moment to breathe in Toji’s husky scent mixed with the cologne you had bought for his previous birthday.

What snaps you out of your daze is the call of your name which was muffled by white walls and a closed door. With excitement and yearn, you don’t hesitate to find your way to your lover. He was only gone for a little over thirty minutes yet a minute somehow feels like forever without him.

Opening the bedroom door with a slight creak you’re met with the delicious sight of Toji standing in your open kitchen. The first thing that you notice is that his raven locks are damp, dripping down his neck. His black leather jacket mirrors this, soaked through and through.

“Tried my best not to get the food soaked for ya, s’raining like a bitch out there.”

That’s when you notice white bags sitting on the countertop and the aroma of your favorite takeaway fills the room like a flood. Normally, you would rush over to where Toji stands, more than eager to dig into your food yet instead your figure stands frozen at the view of Toji all soaked and wet in your shared kitchen.

If you could take a snapshot of his figure you most definitely would, the faint ache between your thighs threatening to return for an nth time.

“Why’re ya standing there like an idiot?” Toji mutters, noticing your figure yet not even turning around to look at you. He had noticed your presence almost immediately but was waiting for you to approach and dive into the food. He had gotten your usual order plus a few desserts if you wanted it.

With quiet footsteps you creep towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. The cold and dampness of his leather jacket sharply contrasted with your warm figure, his jacket dampens your shirt causing goosebumps across your body.

“M’ wet, lemme change first.” he tuts. Outloud, he doesn’t say this but the thought of you getting sick did cross his mind.

“Missed you.” It came out as a mumble, barely coherent to him, nothing more but a mere vibration on his back. Yet – and you weren’t sure whether this was due to his previous profession as an assassin – no matter how quiet you were, whether speaking or moving around the house, Toji always heard you.

You teased him for being a super secret spy but really his skills were that defined.

You feel a huff escape from his lungs, “I wasn’t even gone for an hour.”

“Still miss you.”

“Mhmm, you’re a clingy brat aren’t ya?”

“Only for you.” You reply with a smile and before he knows it you’ve peeled away his leather jacket exposing his physic in a black shirt. Sure, that’s a little damp too but you leave him be.

You rest the leather jacket out to dry and a thought passes on whether you should get Toji his more comfortable clothes, as soon as he sees your brows furrow he’s read your mind and waves a hand in decline.

Must be a secret mind reader too.

“I’ll be fine for now, doll.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, a minor hum echoing throughout the house. It’s a small yet modern apartment, perfect for the two of you. Before, Toji was used to bouncing around between homes under a temporary contract but upon meeting you, he finally got the chance to find a space he could call his permanent home.

Toji’s emerald eyes pore over you now, cheeks stuffed with as much food you can muster into your mouth. You’re glowing and happy, he notices, and very comfortable in his shirt. He muses over your features, watching how your nose scrunches up at every taste of explosive flavor and listens to your hums of approval.

He’s staring so much you think that you have something on your face.

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand frantically. “What?” you asked, voice muffled as you chewed your food.

Talking with your mouth full would be a classic pet peeve for anyone, but for him, there was nothing which could deter him away from you.

Toji hesitates before responding and you notice a certain gleam in his eye. A gleam that you’ve rarely been a witness to. You can recall maybe three of the times you’ve caught the same look in his eye. Once, during the first time he stayed over and the two of you stayed up talking till the early hours of the morning, you had learned so much about him then.

Another time was just after a session of sex, you swore you were so sweaty and gross at the time but he claims you just looked so pretty at the time.

The only other time you caught onto that gleam was when he had proposed to you. It came out a little rushed and timid from the ex-assassin but the look in his eyes told you all that you needed to know. The man was whipped for you.

Little do you know that there have been numerous moments where that certain gleam appears but you’re just too oblivious to catch on.

“Marry me.”

“I am, idiot.” you mimic his nickname from earlier. The engagement ring sits perfectly on your hand, the ring which Toji had spent months saving up for. Sure it was pricey but not as pricey as the rings for your wedding which he was currently searching for. Maybe he’ll pick up some jobs from Shiu again to afford it, no killings of course.

No, he doesn’t think he could return to that again but perhaps some jobs as a bodyguard would suffice.

“What’re you thinking about?”

You catch him off-guard, a deep furrow of his brows creating a frown. You’ve known Toji for too long to notice that something was wrong.

“Is something wrong with the food?”

“No,” Toji mutters, “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

You let out a snort before taking another bite of your food. Again you speak, cheeks full with food.

“You sap.”

“Weren’t ya the one who tried to suffocate me when I was only gone for twenty minutes?”

“Thirty actually.” you correct before taking a bite of your food.

“Who’s counting?”

“Your fiancée.”

Toji can’t help but feel his blood pressure soar at the mere mention of the engagement. There, deep within his gut came a tingling sensation of the newfound emotion of happiness he had found, a sharp realization that this was not just some too good to be true fantasy but you were actually going to be marrying him. And only in a couple months time.

Sure, fiancée sounded great but Toji reckons the sound of you being his wife will do inexplicable things to him.

Toji feels his heart swell just at the thought. “Say yes, again.”

“A thousand times over.”

A small smile appears on his lips, Toji shakes his head, his fork stabbing into the takeout platter next to you. “Who’s the sap now?”

The rest of the meal continues under a light atmosphere, a feeling of warmth continues to gush through Toji’s body. This is exactly where he needs to be and there was no other place where he would rather be. It’s the nights like these that really counts for him.

Nights like these which he wouldn’t exchange for anything else. He can only hope that you feel the same and you easily reassure him with a smile, similar to the one you gave him at your first ever encounter.

If there’s one thing he’ll try his damn hardest to do in this life it’ll be keeping you happy.

Till death do you apart.

reblogs are much appreciated!!

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[bettystonewell]

What Happened Last Night? - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: After burning the Book of the Damned and escaping the Styne's, you all have a night of harmless celebrations back at the bunker. At least, it was harmless until Charlie suggested a game of Never Have I Ever, and the rest of your night became a blur. Friends to Lovers 18+ only

Word Count: 6,400

Tags/Warnings: Language, Dubious Consent (implied drunk sex), SMUT —————————————————————Part 2 || Read on AO3 || Mastierlist

After some bacon, toast, painkillers, and more coffee to wash it all down with, you escaped the common area of the bunker to the confines of your room. With no white sheets, no clothes on the floor and nothing to remind you of Dean, it was a perfect, cosy haven to mull things over in.

Last night was still a blur, but his face at the table was not and the confusion and disappointment you’d seen in his eyes left you feeling less hungover and more sick. 

A lump had formed in your throat and your stomach churned as you fought your memories to remember some order of events. What was said? Who’d instigated things, and how far did you get? 

You couldn’t remember if you had slept with him or not, but it was something you’d wanted for a long time. Not just sex, but to be closer to him. And if that became a permanent arrangement, well, you wouldn’t be upset by that. 

Would you go as far as to say you wanted a relationship with him? Probably not, but then again…

Oh god. 

You had it bad. And now you’d fucked things up. 

Fuck. What if you’d fucked things up?

What if he wanted nothing more to do with you or it had all been a onetime thing? Something to let off steam because of the mark or any other crappy thing in his life. 

He had quite a lot of things…

But if it had been a one-off, and you didn’t even get to remember it? Well, that was crappy too.

Maybe you should move? Hah. That was a bit extreme. The bunker was your home too and had been for over a year. You wouldn’t move out for something like this, but maybe you could take a few days away? That’s all that was needed for the whole thing to blow over and for you to pretend nothing had happened, right?

Right?

No, you couldn’t do that. Not without talking to him first, anyway. You owed yourself that much, and you owed him that much, too. Especially after the look he’d given you and what he’d said to Charlie about sorting out your shit. 

So, after giving yourself a few hours of mulling, you decided there was no time like the present - to sort out some shit. 

You left your room and walked down the cold and sterile corridor. You stepped right up to his door square in front of it and reached your arm out to knock. But as your fist touched the wood below the brass-plated Aquarian star at the ready, you hesitated and withdrew. 

Why were you doing this again? ‘Cause it seemed like a bad idea now. His door was closed and you assumed that meant he didn’t want to be disturbed. 

Yeah. He didn’t want to be disturbed.

This could wait til later when his door was open. Later that night, or maybe tomorrow.

‘Definitely tomorrow.’

And once again, you were on the move. You spun back around on your heel in the direction you’d come from and took a step forward, just when room 11’s door clicked open and Dean called out to you. 

“What’re you doing?” 

Shit. 

You’d stood there in the hall waiting too long. Damn hunter senses. He must’ve seen your shadow under the gap between the wood and the floor. Or heard the soft thud on his door from your knuckles.

He was leaning against it with his arms folded and his legs crossed beneath him when you turned back and it took your breath away. His flannel was missing and the form under his simple, black t-shirt was solid and defined. 

“I um… Thought we could have a do-over,” you said. “Talk about last night.”

Last night…

Of all the things you recalled about last night, images of his bare chest showed up the most. Your fingers and tongue had been very up close and personal with it. Tasting the salt from his skin along with the alcohol he held on his breath.

You had it bad alright. 

He must’ve known it, too. You saw the grimace on his face turn into a smirk when he saw how your eyes roamed. “But you changed your mind?”

This was great. Just great... Although at least he was open to talking with you.

He flicked his head to the room behind him without another word and that’s how you found your way back to his bed, sitting side by side at the foot-end of it with a safe distance between you.

His room was now neat. The white sheets you’d found covering you earlier that morning were folded and tucked in over the blanket, with no creases in sight. While the floor surrounding the bed was no longer scattered with clothes.

There was no evidence whatsoever of whatever had transpired last night. All gone like the words you’d spoken to him had from your memories.

“So,” you said. 

“So?” Dean said back. 

You noticed the way he slouched his shoulders and drooped his head. A far cry from the confidence he’d just displayed in the hall. Now his arms rested on his thighs and his hands clenched into fists. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was just as uncomfortable as you were, but why?

He hadn’t woken up in your bed. He hadn’t worn your clothes. (Not that he’d fit them.) And he had forgotten nothing - apparently. Yet he looked as uncertain as you felt when he turned to look at you again.

He was waiting for you to say something and by the right you should’ve. You came to him, after all. But through all the brooding you’d done, you hadn’t decided what to say. You had been so focused on trying to remember last night’s activities that you had forgotten yet another important thing. 

Having no idea how to start, you did what you always did when you were clueless about what to do and apologised. “Ah. Sorry for bolting on you earlier,” you said. “I kind of freaked out a little when I woke up and I, well, I panicked.”

While it may not have been appropriate or the perfect solution, it seemed to work because he unclenched his fists and sat upright. “You really don’t remember?” 

“Well… Bits of it. I know we started something. I just don’t know how far we got.” 

And there it was. That disappointed look in his eyes you had seen back at the table had resurfaced, this time accompanied by regret.

What else could you say besides, “Sorry,” again? Your own screwed-up expression making an appearance.

“You think saying sorry makes it better?” he spat.

“Why are you so pissy?” you spat right back.

You knew it was the wrong thing to say, but you couldn’t help the words that spewed from your mouth. You’d apologised against your better judgement. The least he could do was say something kind in return. 

“Pissy?” He sprung off the bed and spun around to tower over you. 

Oh hell no! 

He still had a height advantage, but you weren’t going to take his attitude sitting down and you stood up too. “You’re getting all offended because I don’t remember what happened. But newsflash, I was drunk. What do you expect?”

“Newsflash. You were drunk, and we almost had sex! It was lucky you passed out before anything really started.” 

To say relief washed over you in that moment was an understatement. 

You’d almost had sex, not had. 

If that were the case, then that meant you hadn’t fucked up completely and your friendship with Dean was still salvageable (you hoped). There was also no longer any need to worry about asking awkward questions such as whether he had come inside of you or had used protection… 

Nope. You were good in that department.

You’d passed out. 

No wonder you remembered nothing. You’d been drunker than you realised and it was a wonder you’d recalled anything at all. ‘Stupid Charlie and her stupid drinking game.’ Though you knew when you saw her again, you’d be all smiles. 

Nothing could get you down except for the look that marred Dean’s face. His eyes pierced through your short-lived happiness like a pin to a balloon and as it deflated, you muttered yet another, “Sorry. I don’t normally pass out like that.”

“Would you stop saying you’re sorry? Do you think I’d wanna continue when you were that drunk? And after what you told me.”

Shit. What did you tell him?

Oh no. No, no, no. That’s it. If you’d told him you had feelings for him, then you were moving out. Whether he reciprocated them or not, the sheer embarrassment was enough of an excuse to leave for good. 

Just after you asked, “Dean. What happened last night?” 

His eyes softened and his stance relaxed. “We continued the game. Where Charlie left off… Her last turn.”

Her last turn. Your mind scrambled through its cracks and corners, pulling the face of a drunken Charlie to its forefront. Her flushed cheeks and her words, “Never have I ever gone down on a guy,” replayed over and over in your head.

That’s when Sam had had enough and called it a night. Cas had been confused and followed him while Charlie, who found the whole thing hilarious, had made the excuse to use the bathroom and never returned. 

Did you down the shot for that? Yes. Yes, you did.

And you asked Dean if he wanted to keep playing after, turning the tables on him when he’d said yes. He’d taken a swig to, “Never have I ever gone down on a girl,” and it had only gotten raunchier after that.

“It started flirty,” Dean said, confirming your memory. “But then it got more, I dunno, personal, and it stopped being a game. And then you said something about risking friendships and when I asked you what you meant, you kissed me.” 

Nuh-uh. You called bullshit. “I was on the other side of the table.”

“You came around to me,” he retorted. “Sat yourself in my lap and grinded your hips a little.” 

You didn’t miss the small pull of his lips and the flash of ardour in his eyes that betrayed his tone, yet, still you were quick to be defensive. “I did not.” 

You had it bad, but you would never just act on it like that, would you?

Though as you strained your hardest to think back, your brain brought forward an image of your legs on either side of his and a twinge between them and the pit of your stomach that you’d felt then…

And now. 

“Okay, maybe I did,” you said as you lowered your eyes, sweeping over what had been your denim seat.

Fuck. You horny little minx.

“Hey. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining.” Without even looking, you heard his grin. “Why do you think I offered for you to come in here with me in the first place?”

Because he’d wanted this too, you realised. And he must’ve been enjoying himself just as much as you had until you’d passed out on him.

“So, when did I pass out?” you asked.

Rather than answering, Dean walked around to the nightstand on the back wall next to his bed and picked up something small enough to fit in his hand. It crinkled under his touch, sounding more like the soft plastic of a candy bar than anything else. 

Your suspicions told you otherwise though, and when he came back around and took your hand to place the object in your palm, you didn’t need to look at it to recognise the feel and shape of a condom still inside its wrapper. 

There was the definite answer to your question about protection.

You tore your eyes away from the colourful package to see him looking uneasy. His hands were stuck deep in his pockets. “We hadn’t got that far,” Dean said with an awkward chuckle.

“I was getting prepared. I leaned over to grab that and when I came back to, you know, continue, you’d passed out… You woke up still wearing your panties, yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“Right. Cause we didn’t take ‘em off.”

“But you dressed me? I was wearing your shirt when I woke up.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Nothing happened, though. I uh… We didn’t get past second base. Though we were getting there… I might’ve run my hand over you, and you know, you rubbed yourself over my leg, but nothin’ more than that.”

“Yeah. I get it.” He’d painted the picture well enough, and it explained why you were struggling to remember more than you had. “Uh… Thanks,” you said, giving him a meek smile that his face screwed up over. 

“Yeah... Of course...”

Still holding the condom in your hand, you sat down on the bed, running your finger over the sharp edge and staring anywhere but at him. Embarrassment washed over you, and he appeared to share the same sentiment. Hah. The ever flirtatious Dean Winchester, confident around every other woman but you.

So why didn’t it make things easier? You were on a level playing field and yet tension still filled the air.

“So what now?” you asked. 

“What do you mean?”

Dammit. Why’d he have to answer your question with another one? 

“I dunno. We almost had sex and I can’t remember any of it, but you do… Do you wanna pretend nothing happened or…?” 

“Do you?” 

There was a definite hitch in his voice that had you raising your head to meet his eyes. “No. You might regret what almost happened, but I don’t.”

“What makes you think I regret it?”

You raised your brow and shrugged. “Look at you. You’re not exactly screaming confidence right now.”

“Doesn’t mean I regret it.” His body language still said otherwise.

“Really? Cause that’s not what I’m getting from all this.” You sighed and hung your head again. This tension. All this movement back and forth was putting a strain on your neck. It was bad enough there was one in your heart.

“Hey.” He stooped down to crouch before you and placed a hand on your knee. His touch was as soothing and gentle as his next words tried to be. “Really. I regret nothing. I just don’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you.”

Taking advantage of? “You can’t take advantage of someone if it’s what they want, Dean.” 

How could he not know it’s what you’d wanted? According to him, you’d been the one to start things off. Was that not obvious enough for him?

Of course it was. 

Which meant this wasn’t something he wanted after all, and you had embarrassed yourself more than you’d thought. Fuck. You were so fucking stupid. What had you done?

You’d said and done way too much. That’s what you’d done.

“I need to go.”

Without hesitation, you brushed his hand off your leg and picked yourself up so you could make your way to the door, but a newfound grip on your wrist held you in your tracks. “I thought you wanted to talk?”

“I did. And now we have,” you said through gritted teeth. “Let me go.”

But he refused.

His free hand pried the condom packet out of yours and shoved it in the back pocket of his jeans. He then stepped up to you, chest to chest and angled his head down to yours, watching you through an intense gaze. “What do you want, sweetheart?” 

What did you want? You wanted him. How was that not obvious by now? Did you really have to say it? 

“I…” you stuttered.

He leaned in close, captivating every piece of you. From his mouth and the warmth of his breath that escaped it to brush against your cheeks and lashes. To your beating heart that raced above a stomach that was bubbling with butterflies. 

“Don’t forget you told me things last night. You might not remember ‘em but I do and I’m pretty sure you’ve been wanting something from me for a while… Now, what do you want?” he asked again before speaking lower. “Cause maybe I want it too.”

Maybe he wanted it too?

His words were a switch, and they forced you into action.

“You, I want you,” you breathed, closing the gap between you to press your lips to his.

Your eyes closed and his hands started roaming over your body. Fingers brushed over your cheek and combed through your hair up top. While lower, they smoothed over your clothes, sending shockwaves of need to the skin beneath them.

Dean’s bicep contracted under your palm while the muscles of his stomach and chest rose and fell below the other.

What a kiss. What a delicious, indescribable kiss.

So familiar, yet oh so new.

Every touch was pleasurable. Every nip and graze was precise. His taste, his scent, the small, inaudible sounds he made. It was all there in what brief memory you had from last night and it continued to keep you entranced as you allowed yourself to experience it again for the first time. 

He placed kiss after sensuous kiss over your mouth, your neck and your collarbone, eliciting a quiet hum when he moved to that spot below your ear. Your hands raked through the tufts of his hair, from the short and spiky ones on the back of his neck, to the finer ones he kept longer at the sides. 

His grin was huge when you pulled apart to catch your breaths but he still sounded sincere when he asked, “You sure you want this?”

Did he really need to ask you that now? At this moment, when you could be doing plenty of other things?

Yes, you wanted him. You’d wanted him last night and days, weeks, months, years before that. Since the moment you’d met, it was all you ever wanted and while you knew you may regret things tomorrow or the next day, you couldn’t deny yourself from the moment because it was right in front of you now.

“Yeah.” You smiled in earnest, watching his features as your arms snaked their way around his back to press yourself into him further. His chest was hard against yours and his groin, impressive. There was a distinguishable shape beneath the layer of denim and whatever he wore underneath it. 

You couldn’t help the fresh round of warmth that spread across your cheeks and matched the yearning in the pit of your stomach below as his tongue invaded your mouth again.  Running over every crevice it could reach as his hands came to the hem of your shirt, pushing his fingers up to knead any piece of skin they could. 

With practised hands, they traced their path over the bruises from last night, gliding past your navel and manoeuvring under your bra, just as you recalled. Only this time, you felt the moment he’d unclasped it to give himself easier access to your breasts.

He pulled away from you only to remove your shirt and fully expose your chest to him. His eyes wandered over the marks below your collarbone and on the side of your hips with pride. “Never have I ever done that,” he said with a satisfied hum.

Huh?

He chuckled at your confusion. “You took charge of the clothes we lost last night, including mine.”

You groaned and buried your face in his shirt, feeling him shake against you. Fucking hell. Last-night’s-you was overzealous and needy. “I’m so sorry.”

Dean’s chuckle grew into a burst of laughter. His hands gripped your shoulder and forced your head to look up at him before he placed a simple kiss over your mouth. “No more sorries, alright? Never have I ever apologised during sex.”

“What?” You could see the humour in his statement, but why the fuck was he saying it like that? 

“Just playing the game.” 

He stepped back and removed his shirt in one fluid motion. 

Well, hello Dean.

Until last night, you only saw him with his shirt off when you were helping him dress a wound, and half the time he had blood all over him - that was never attractive on anyone - but now you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. 

“Now. You apologised. You gotta take your bra off for that.”

“So, why did you remove your shirt?”

He shrugged and his muscles rippled through the motion. “My game, my rules. Bra off.” He nodded his head at the offending item.

That was enough for you and you did as you were asked. One strap, then you had it off with the next, and the second it hit the floor, Dean pounced on you.

Wrapping one arm around your waist,  the other brought its hand up to cup your newly exposed breasts, while his head lowered so his mouth could wrap around the other, flicking his tongue over your hardening nipple and suckling with a tender pressure when it formed into a bud.

Boy, what a tongue. There was no way he’d done this last night. And If he had, you didn’t deserve to reap the rewards from it now. 

The sensations he gave you were intoxicating. 

His scent, even more so.

The gel from his hair that whisked under your nose, the motor oil on his fingers that danced over your skin and the whiskey that still seeped from his pores - vanilla and spice. It all added to the smell of gunpowder that always lingered in his room.

Releasing you with a pop, he raised his head to glance at you through half-lidded eyes. His expression had a carnal look to it and when he opened his mouth to speak again, confidence oozed from deep within him. “Your turn.”

“Never have I ever?”

He nodded.

“Ah…” You had no fucking clue what to say, but those green eyes stared at you with such anticipation that rather than taking your ‘turn,’ you flung yourself at him instead.

Your hands caressed either side of his neck and just bare of planting your lips on his own, Dean’s arms swooped around your waist and thigh to lift you off the floor. 

He carried you back to his bed with a hurried step and had you caged beneath him in the blink of an eye.

It was exactly where you wanted to be. Screw his game. Screw last night. You were sober and more than ready for him.

Arousal pooled at your entrance, separated by mere layers of fabric from his thigh. Without the heavy denim, he surely would have felt the wetness seeping through. The thick muscle pushed against you, encouraging your legs to spread further apart. 

He might not have been able to feel you, but you felt him. His length was a solid bulge against the lower part of your pelvis. 

He had to be thick. Long too. And you wondered how you managed to pass out when Dean’s ‘monster’ was well within your hand’s reach. 

They now trailed over the smooth skin of his toned back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he pulled air into his lungs. 

“You know last night you asked me to fuck you?” 

Oh god. How eloquent of you. “I’m never drinking again,” you muttered under your breath.

“But drunk-you was so fun and honest… She told me she gets jealous when I hook up with other girls I meet at the bar, and d’you know what I told her?” 

‘Hopefully to shut up.’ Drunk-you needed to learn how to filter better. As well as when to stop drinking. 

“I told her I hate watching her flirt with all the douchebags she talks to...”

And with that last sentence, he had you captivated again. His body, his face. Those green eyes watched you with reverence and shined brighter than they ever had before with you. “Cause I want her just as much as she wants me” 

Dean pulled away from you with a smirk and brought his hands to the fly of your jeans, helping you with them and the panties underneath. “I’m not just gonna fuck you, baby, I’m gonna take such good care of you too... And then when I’m done, I ain’t letting you leave this bed.”

Fuck.

It was finally happening. 

Here you were and there he was, towering above you. A knee on either side of your leg and hand over your hip, gripping the extra flesh there with a welcomed pressure. 

Dean was sex on a stick, and right at that moment, he was yours.

Before you knew it, a finger swiped through your centre and the calloused pad of another was on your clit. 

“Fuck,” you inhaled with a hiss through your teeth. 

It was finally happening.

“You’re so wet for me already. Bet you’ve been like that the entire time. Since last night? Or maybe just at my door?… I saw the way you looked at me.” 

“Don’t get so full of yourself,” you jeered, and he chuckled. The sound reverberated through his chest and travelled to his fingers and brought out such delicious sensations to your core and further beyond it. 

“You’ll be full of something soon enough,” he said with promise.

And you couldn’t wait.

Your skin was on fire. Your cunt was on fire, too. Attempting to clamp on something or draw Dean’s fingers in, and whether he knew it, that’s the next thing he did, pushing one thick digit up into you.

It curled over, skimming over the cushioned walls that lined your entrance with come hither motions.

You cried out his name when he found your sweet spot and grabbed hold of his wrist when he inserted a second finger to join it. All the while, he watched you with interest and a feverous gaze as his fingers worked you into a frenzy. 

Expectations met with reality. No one, not even you, had touched yourself in this way in such a long while and the sounds he had you making were proof enough. Dean was skilled and every rumour you’d ever heard of him was true.

“There?” he asked when your back arched off the bed.

“There.” Fuck. Right there. 

He flashed you a cocksure grin before shuffling backwards and lowering his head to join his hands. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Dean was down there and you weren’t prepared for that. You hadn’t shaved or paid particular attention to yourself to be ready for this. Drunk-you might not have cared but sober-you sure fucking did.

Your hands scrambled to pull him away from you and when that didn’t work, you attempted a retreat. 

But he gripped firmer on your hip, never faltering with the other hand that continued to work on you. “I told you I’m takin’ care of you tonight.” 

His warm breath passed over your folds and it had your legs trembling. 

“You’re so close, baby girl. So tight around my fingers… Wonder what will happen when I taste you,” he murmured.

Soon his soft, succulent lips surrounded your clit, and that’s all it took for the pressure boiling within to release. Your slicked cunt clamped on Dean’s fingers like a vice around wood as you cried out his name again.

He continued to guide you through it, even as he rose to face you. The same grin from earlier spread across his face and a newfound glisten surrounded it. 

“How’re we doing up here?” he asked.

How were you doing? You were “Fan-fucking-tastic,” and struggling to regain a regular breath. 

Your hands wrapped around his head, pulling him down to capture his lips with yours, awarding you a taste of yourself, but better still, another taste of him.

Despite being thoroughly taken care of, you still desired more. You needed to touch him, taste him and have him inside of you. So your hands trailed lower, running across his heaving chest and abdomen, to the rough denim that constrained him, palming him with one hand and attempting to move his belt with the other.

“Never have I ever gotten in here,” you said, earning you a chuckle and a swat of your hand. 

“I’m taking care of you, remember?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t do the same for you.” 

He considered you for a moment, but shook his head. “Maybe next time.” With a peck of your lips, he withdrew back, stepping off the bed to unbuckle his belt. “I wanna feel you wrapped around me now.”

You could get used to this. And you were going to hold him to that next time, but for now, how could you say no to those green eyes? 

They stared down at you, travelling the length of your body with a hungry gaze. Your own doing the same to him.

You heard the clink as his belt hit the floor and you heard the shuffle as his feet stepped out of his pants. But your eyes? You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the way his erection sprang up against his stomach. It was standing unashamed.

“Like what you see?”

Fuck yeah, you did.

Genius Charlie and her genius game.

It was impressive, just as you’d thought, with a slight curve and a thick bulbous head.

You watched as he pumped himself and replied by sitting up and crawling over to him to replace his hand with yours. He was warm and heavy, and he grunted when your fingers curled around his girth to find the pressure he liked most.

‘There we go.’ You grinned when you were awarded with a soft moan and a thrust of his hips. 

“I thought I was going to take care of you?”

“So did I. But you weren’t moving fast enough.” 

Another moan escaped him - a deep growl from somewhere within his chest.

You wanted to see if he’d do that again, but his fingers pried yours away from him and he pulled you to stand with him on the floor. Your chest met his and his length met your stomach, while those same hands came round to grab your rear and pushed your pelvis into his. 

The sharp edge of the condom wrapper dug into the thick flesh of your rump and you reached around to take it.

Dean released you to step back, watching as you got down on a bent knee to see him up close. His hand took one large clump of your hair and tugged, gentle but firm.

‘Never have I ever gone down on Dean Winchester,’ you thought. But there was a first time for everything.

You played your game in earnest, unbeknownst to him, opening wide to take the now-reddened tip into your mouth with one gulp.

“Fuck,” he said above you.

Your tongue flicked over the small slit, tasting the first drops of pre cum that had collected there. Not salty, or sour, or bitter, but something you couldn’t describe. To say it was unpleasant was a lie because it was Dean, and because it was Dean. Any doubt or reserve you’d had before last night went out the window. 

And you went to town.

You sucked, licked and stroked him up, down and all over, listening to his sounds and any cues he gave you. When his hand gripped your hair tighter, you doubled your efforts of the current manoeuvre until he could take no more.

“Woah.” His hand pulled you back. “Dunno ‘bout you, but I was hoping to get past third and hit home… I don’t think I can wait another night to be inside ya.”

Neither could you, and you stood up again, handing over the small foil packages still held onto. “Then take care of me, Dean.” 

He flicked his head towards his bed and you moved without question, sitting in the middle with your legs crossed. Unsure of where else to go or how else to sit. Should you lie back? Did he want you up on your hands and knees? Would he let you ride him?

Yes, your thoughts were fleeting, but your mind was a whirlwind of anxiety.

The kind that made you feel alive. 

You were cold without his touch but heated with a need for him that only grew stronger as you watched him calm himself enough to put the rubber on.

Then his eyes met yours and he was over you within seconds. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” 

“Never have I ever apologised during sex?” 

He answered you with a kiss and you knew this was it. The main event that you’d been building to.

Finally.

Your hands took on a will of their own and moved to roam where they saw fit. A set of fingers traced his tattoo as you knew they’d done last night. The other moved further north, tracing over an arm and shoulder to wrap around his neck. It kept him in place for the time being, scratching fingernails through his dark blonde hair and over his scalp.

Both of his knees sat between your thighs while an arm kept you caged below him. Not that you planned on going anywhere. 

His weight stayed off of you as a hand moved below to cup you above the tuft of curls that covered your entrance. He pushed a finger between the folds beneath and stopped to grace your clit with a few small circles before dipping further into your centre.

As much as you wanted things to move further along, you appreciated him making sure you were more than ready. He was big and while you weren’t inexperienced to think he wouldn’t fit, you knew there was a satisfying stretch waiting for you.

“Dean.”

“Mmm.” He hummed into your lips. His tongue mimicking his finger below. “You want something?” he asked when he pulled away to give you his full attention.

“Yeah. You.”

Your hand reached to grip him, being careful to not shift the condom that fit him snugly, and encouraged him closer.

His head dipped to nibble at the spot he’d discovered last night by your ear as the tip of his thick length caught at your entrance. 

Your cunt fluttered in desperation, trying to clamp onto it or anything else. He was so damn close. And you hoped your impending orgasm was closer.

“Dean,” you breathed. Your body, gasping to fill the air into your lungs to calm you the fuck down.

“You think you’re ready for me huh?” He muttered against the crook of your neck. The coolness of his breath created a pleasant contrast against the heat radiating from your skin, and you bucked your hips in response. 

The man was skilled, yes, you’d already established that, but the way he hit home in one swift stride had you reeling.

There he was, in all his glory. Thick, hard, and throbbing deep inside you.

The stretch, the fullness and the completion you had not been prepared for. ‘Fuck me.’

Or rather, thank drunk-you.

Thanks to drunk-you and Charlie. Because if it hadn’t been for the copious amounts of alcohol you drank last night, you would not be here right now. High on cloud nine, with Dean Winchester between your legs.

Finally.

His fervent kisses covered your mouth, and a hand splayed over your hair, intertwining thick fingers through thicker chunks of locks. 

He still hovered over your tingling form and you had to wiggle your hips to get his attention. Your body was well adjusted, and you just needed him to move.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said as he took the hint and set a pace you so desperately tried to match.

Fuck indeed. 

Everything was right in the world. Stars aligned (and all those other fancy words you couldn’t think of in the moment happened too) as his hands wandered over your body and your legs glided up and down his. Any attempt to feel him on every part of your being, and encourage him to keep going. That was your ultimate goal. 

Dean pounded into you and you taking it like a trooper. Whispering encouraging words and praises into his ears as he continued to fill you repeatedly. 

“So good.”

“Harder.”

“Just like that.”

And of course his name. “Dean.” It came off your tongue with ease, as your own name did from him when he flipped you both over and pulled you back down.

This new angle had him deeper within you and once again, your legs trembled. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby?” he drawled. 

But you couldn’t respond. The way he did that. And then that again? Man. He told you he was going to take care of you and damn well, he was. 

The heat was rising, and you were trying to stave it off. You wanted to hold out as long as you could but it was proving difficult when a firm pressure began circling your clit.

Your head buried itself in his shoulder, attempting to distract your body and return the pleasure he was giving you but it was all too much.

“Dean,” you breathed. Shit. “Oh shit.”

Your movements stilled but your body did not. 

It shuddered over and around him. Gripping his length and attempting to draw it in further.

“So beautiful. Coming all over my cock,” he said with a snap of his hips, never relenting, not even once as he chased his own orgasm. 

He thrust again and again. Sweet, unrelenting friction that only extended your high.

And then it happened.

You felt the moment he spilled himself into the condom, the throb of his shaft, the tightening in his stomach and legs, and the groan that escaped him. “Fuck.”

Your sentiments exactly. The man was talented, and you were the luckiest girl alive to have experienced it almost last night, and again just now.

You had no regrets, and you looked into his eyes to see none from him either.

“How you doing down there?” you asked with a chortle to go along with your teasing tone. 

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he said.

With still trembling legs and a shit-eating grin to match his, you lifted yourself up and somehow managed to bring yourself to flop onto the bed next to him. You snuggled into his side and he welcomed you with an open arm and another lingering kiss.

What happened last night? Who fucking cared. What happened after this was far more important, and you made a mental note to thank Charlie (with as little detail as possible) when you saw her later.

Nah, tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.

Part 1 || Read on AO3 || Masterlist—————————————————————Thank you so much for reading! I’ll be slowly bringing my other stories over in the coming weeks 😚

Coming Soon! - Another Notch on His Belt - 17/01

(Dean’s POV - 18+ only - 1.2k words) Every little part of him is holding onto every little piece of her, and any other woman he’s been lucky enough to escape his life with. Even if it’s only for the night. A delve into Dean replacing intimacy with sex. If you’d like to be tagged, lmk.

[imsadstuff]

A Royal Romance - Teaser 1

Author Note: So, as promised, I am putting out the first teaser for this fic, read it, like it, and comment if you want to be added to the tag list. Let me know of all of your thoughts, feelings and even suggestions. Please note that this is just a small part of the fic, if it looks like it's a normal meet cute romance, it is not, it's a twisted royal romance.

Genre: Romance, Angst, Love Triangle, lots and lots of romance

Warnings: Mentions of smoking and drinking

Link to my masterlist if you want to check out my other stuff : here

“Congratulations!!!” Mingyu hollers as he sees Jungkook right before going on stage. The two friends hug each other, first time tonight when Jungkook greets someone comfortably. They met ages ago, in high school and even tho Mingyu is a high-profile model, they’ve stayed close.

“I’m so nervous I may throw up” Jungkook mutters to his friend as he adjusts his suit, it’s right at that moment that there’s a loud commotion, and all the sudden, the press if focused elsewhere.

The two men silently try and focus in on the cause of it all, their eyes stay fixed as a woman with a glamorous golden dress and her shiny hair come into focus. She isn’t just any other woman, she’s princess ___, and that just makes Jungkook more nauseous.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she” Mingyu mutters as the men continue to shamelessly stare as the princess walks closer to the event.

“Breathtaking” Jungkook can feel a few cameras on himself too, but he can’t help but look away. Everything about her grabs his attention, her smile, the flowy hair, the dress.

“Okay, she’s coming closer, I’ll go and smile for the cameras and see you inside” Mingyu leaves with one final tap on his friends back while Jungkook stays turned around, waiting for the princess to come closer. He contemplates if he should walk closer to greet here, and Han is tapping is shoulder before he decides.

“The royal protocol is you bow first, and the formal greeting is your royal highness and ma’am after that, go on, walk to her” Han instructs and Jungkook follows, suddenly right in front of her. He bows like instructed and so does she, ___ looks at her expectantly, and suddenly Jungkook’s forgotten how to speak.

“Congratulations Mr Jeon, now I haven’t played video games ever, but people in my office love playing yours after hours” ___ takes the lead and Jungkook can’t help but smile widely.

“Thank you, your royal highness, hopefully, the people in your office like this one as well” he says as they walk to the stage, at a very glacial stage.

“Oh don’t start with the your royal highness, call me ___, please” ___ says with a small smile, picking up her dress ever so slightly to walk better, the heels are definitely taxing.

“I’m not going to do that, my assistant may actually shoot me if I don’t follow the royal protocol, he’s briefed me on it a hundred times since your RSVP’d” Jungkook jokes and ___ can’t help be a bit charmed by his toothy smile.

“Oh, I don’t want to be the reason you get shot, on a very important day for you after all” the two of them have totally stopped by the stage for this conversation, disregarding all the cameras.

“He’s quite strict, right now, he’s probably accounting all the extra time we’ve taken up to talk and adjust the timeline for the rest of the event” Jungkook jokes, despite how nervous he is, he doesn’t want the princess thinking he’s not funny.

“Oh well, not to make his job too hard, I’ll go on stage and be pretty before you get into more trouble” ___ says as she takes a step back, but still not moving. He eyes go from his big bright eyes, to his many ear piercings, to his folded over shirt collar. Her instincts tell her to just reach and straighten it, but she smiles and indicates to it, suddenly all aware of the cameras.

Jungkook shyly nods as he fixes her collar, looking back at her. “Thank you for this, and coming here” “Thank you for inviting me, and come find me inside” she says as she walks away.

Han had been feeling breathless all day, he’s been working towards this for this last three months, and that was just the event. He thought he would almost faint the moment Jungkook misspoke during the presentation, but to his relief, his boss just laughed and continued on. As Jungkook gets off the stage, done with the formalities of it all, the dinner is served and he feels like he can finally breath again.

“Where am I seated for the dinner?” Jungkook asks as he unbuttons his suit jacket, if it were up to him, he would have removed it all together.

“With your family,” Han says as he leads Jungkook to the assigned table, they stop every now and then as people congratulate him.

“I’ll go and see my parents, but if you could find me a table on the princesses table, she asked me to come find her” Jungkook speaks with a small smile, when up on stage, he could see her very clearly in her golden dress, she listened very intently for someone who doesn’t play video games.

“I’ll see, Mingyu has been keeping her company so I’ll move him or ask her safety officer to move to the next table” the thought of Mingyu chatting her up suddenly has Jungkook a bit bothered, but before he can think more of it, his mother engulfs him in a warm hug.

“Have you taken your medicine?” Jungkook asks his father as the first course is being served. Han texted him that moving anyone is not possible right now, he’ll have to come and find her once dinner is over.

“I did, you need to stop worrying about me, and celebrate your success today” his father says with a gentle tap to his hand. Jungkook worries, constantly worries after the minor stroke his father had a few months ago.

His brother is busy talking to his wife, so are his parents and the sudden quite at the table forces Jungkook to look around. He sees a room full of the most important people to his and his country as they continue to chat away, the room is full of voices and constant sound of cutlery.

He sees his senior team as they discuss something, he sees a table full of influencers as they continue to be on their phone, the table full of his investors among the many tables around him. But he’s looking for one specific one that he just can’t spot yet.

“Who are you looking for?” Nari, his sister-in-law asks as the dessert is served. On a normal day, Jungkook would absolutely be attacking this dessert, but he just doesn’t have the appetite today.

“Princess ___” Jungkook answers honestly, he’s known Nari for years now, she’s not someone he can lie too. Nari giggles as she turns around in her seat, trying to spot the princess and she immediately does.

“She is quite dazzling, very royal. She doesn’t attend events like these, how did you even manage to invite her?” Nari asks as she takes a bite of tiramisu. Jungkook smiles as he thinking back to a letter that Han explained over a month ago.

“Her office was the one that reached out actually, she sent a royal letter to congratulate us on our success and new adventure. Han was completely puzzled about what to do, I mean what does one even do when a royal princess tells you that your business has been making tremendous waves in the market. So, to reciprocate, we sent her an invite to the event, knowing full well she won’t say yes, but to our surprise she did” Jungkook explains taking a bite himself too, and he would have regretted if he didn’t taste this tiramisu.

“Wow, that’s all you sent, an invite-“ “With flowers” Jungkook had picked out the hydrangeas himself, they were in season.

“I’m speaking at a college tomorrow, it’s a panel about a complicated topic that basically means how important it is for women to be in higher education” ___ shares with her new friend Kim Mingyu. Tonight she’s seated with Mingyu on one side and Namjoon on the other, there are other business people on the table that she hasn’t bother to talk to much. They had disappeared after dinner to socialize themselves.

“Wow, you’re getting your masters right?” Mingyu asks as he takes a sip of his champagne, now that the dinner is done, there’s a more causal feel in the banquet room, with free-flowing drinks and talk.

“Yes, that reminds me that I have to meet one of my professors about some study material he’s assigned” ___ shares as she nurses her second gin and tonic of the night. Her new friend chuckles before he drowns his drink entirely.

“I never went to college, I was scouted during high school. It happened at a game room that Jungkook and I were leaving. Jungkook was scouted too, but he had his eyes set on Seoul University” Mingyu shares and flashes of Jungkook in his double-breasted jacket and crinkling eyes as he smiles come back to her.

“That’s where I’m speaking tomorrow, Mr Jeon’s alma matter” “Mr Jeon?” a voice booms from behind them, its Jungkook with two drinks in his hand.

“Namjoon scoot over, let Mr Jeon sit” ___ nudges her security officer who has a very straight face that scares Jungkook, he just smiles shyly as he takes the seat next to the princess.

“No Mr Jeon, just Jungkook your royal highness” “Well, that can only happen when it’s ___ instead of your royal highness Mr Jeon” Mingyu watches this banter and in a blink of a second, it’s almost like he’s invisible, not that he’s complaining. He’s observed his best friend look at the princess with stars in his eyes all evening, still Mingyu isn’t sure it’s being he’s enchanted by her or because she’s a princess.

“Actually no, it has to be your royal highness or ma’am for him, there’s way too much press here for him to address you casually” Namjoon interjects and ___ has truly never gotten over Namjoon being the straight man.

“You see ma’am, you come with rules that I just can’t look past, now I’m afraid he’s going to shoot me” Jungkook jokes taking a double take to the very muscular man to his other side, a man who can definitely take him down.

“But I am younger than you, ma’am makes me feel middle aged” ___ complains as she reaches over for one of the glasses of champagne Jungkook brought over. She’s breaking the two-drink rule tonight.

“Ma’am is for respect, your royal highness you are third in line to the royal throne” Namjoon interjects again and ___ wants to reach over and punch him, but she knows it’s only going to hurt her.

“Can we step away for a moment, for a smoke maybe” ___ asks Jungkook and he’s immediately pushing his chair back to stand up while Namjoon mutters a no.

Tag List - @soblavk @livingkoalaface @solastica