#so I’m focusing on that and I’m not sorry! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amywritesthings · 2 days ago

Text

your only, hopefully.

pairing: caleb x f!reader (love and deepspace) word count: 4.3k summary: You get stood up on your very first Valentine's Day date. Caleb, as always, manages to save the day.

rated mature // pre-main story, valentine's day fluff, psuedo-incest, use of 'gege' (big brother), unresolved romantic tension, a sprinkle of angst, a ton of yearning, first kiss, foot massage, virgin!caleb credit: dividers by @/saradika-graphics

( READ ON AO3. )

[INCOMING MESSAGE] : Sry, can’t make it tonight :(

You’ve read the text message at least a dozen times.

The thirteenth still has yet to register in your mind, though the belated anger, the confusion — the shame — creeps in like a cold sweat on the back of your neck.

Everything was almost perfect. You’d just set your makeup with a misting spray. One foot remains in a nude-colored high heel while the other foot remains on the fuzzy rectangular rug below, slanting you at an uncomfortable angle.

What once fit you perfectly now feels too tight.

Gran said buying a Valentine’s Day dress was special, that it could carry a lot of sweet memories, yet you find yourself disgusted by the crimson red hugging your body.

(Should you have known? Did you miss a sign between the lines?)

There is a knock on your door, but your brain doesn’t register the gentle wraps.

Jazzy saxophone and gentle drums, your romantic pre-game ambience, now croons morosely on your laptop; songs about love and finding the one and all that—

All that bullshit.

Hours.

You spent hours getting ready for a romantic evening that wasn't even happening now.

Your nostrils flare with the settling irritation in your belly when you grit your teeth, the feeling so overwhelming that you act without thinking:

Shrieking silently behind your pressed red lips, the sound muffled, you kick to launch your unsecured heel towards the door—

“Whoa!”

As if by divine fate (or misfortune) you watch in budding horror as Caleb darts out of the way of the offending shoe, crouching to the floor with his hands over his head.

Gege — formerly the most popular boy at school, now the golden wonder boy of the skies. Every person who has ever met him has wanted to know him, let alone date him, and you cannot blame them.

He's effortlessly kind, funny in his own right, and the type of classically handsome people think about when they dream up a hot-shot pilot with a bright future ahead of him.

He’s supposed to be out by wining and dining all of the amazing girls he’s met while away from home, yet he’s somehow standing — no, crumpled — at your bedroom door in a casual muscle tank-top and gray sweatpants.

“Caleb!” you exhale in shock.

(The text is forgotten, if only for one precious second.)

Remaining crouched, he continues to keep his eyes closed.

“Could’ve warned me with a think fast, pipsqueak.”

“I’m — shit, I’m so sorry,” you rasp as you rush over to him. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”

With that cocky smirk tugging at his lips, Caleb reveals a playful violet eye before freezing.

The other eye opens slowly, the confidence all but wiped off of his face when he stares at you.

The facade erases as fast as a passing cloud.

“...whoa.”

Stopping in your tracks, your brows knit. “What?”

“Where’d you get that?” he asks after a beat, voice a little tighter than before.

His gaze flicks down, then up to the crown of your head, then only a fraction lower as if willing himself to keep his eyes focused on your face and your face alone.

“I don’t remember that being in your closet.”

“That’s because I bought it earlier this week,” you state, matter of fact. You look down at the sparkling red dress with disdain. “Not that it matters now.”

Finally standing at full height, you watch Caleb’s throat bob before he steps into the threshold of your bedroom.

“Uh… why? Your friends cancelling for a night in? Makes sense. Saves money.”

Giving him a knowing glare, you cross your arms over your chest and sigh away the creeping embarrassment. “Not quite.”

“Cancelling in general?” he tries again, mirroring his arms over his broad chest. The motion accentuates his naked biceps.

(Huh. They look bigger since he last visited.)

“Worse,” you conclude.

“Worse?”

“I got stood up by a guy in my hunter class, so that’ll be awesome to kick off Monday with.”

Before he can hide it, you see it: his jaw clenches, tight, and a dark shadow passes over his expression.

The playful boy you’ve grown up with disappears in a flash.

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks flatly. “Does he live nearby?”

“Caleb.”

“Was he going to come pick you up?”

“Caleb.”

“I have privileges now, pipsqueak. You point me in the right direction and I’ll—”

“Gege! Enough."

The old name of endearment you’ve retired when he turned eighteen, buried with the rest of your bizarre family memorabilia — one that’s only stayed in your mind and never exited your mouth ever since — slips.

Caleb’s eyes flash with discontent until you reach for his face, sandwiching his cheeks between your palms.

In an instant the heat is snuffed out, and he relaxes without any further debate.

You know how he gets.

Not quite jealousy, not entirely overprotection.

I’d fly to the sun and back for you, pipsqueak, you know that.

(You do. You know he would.)

Caleb will blindly step out of this home to go find whatever man scorned you on Valentine’s Day and take whatever repercussions arrive, no questions asked.

His affection for you has always run deeper than the familial title Gran suggested when you were both so very small.

Caleb, you protect your mei mei by any means necessary.

He took that vow seriously, even now when you’re both adults.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him — and yourself. “It’s stupid anyway. Valentine’s Day is barely a holiday.”

Brows furrowed, Caleb raises his hand to meet you, eclipsing your own. His skin is always so warm, soft despite the callouses from his vigorous workouts.

The softness of this gesture melts away the rest of your rage into an evaporating puddle at your feet.

“It’s not stupid,” he states. “You were excited about going out, and some punk took for granted the best girl in Linkon City.”

His eyes widen briefly before his fingers curl over yours.

“Nope. Uh-uh. The night has barely begun.”

When he tugs you towards your bedroom door, your first step stumbles. “Wait, what?”

“We’re going out.”

Are you hearing things?

“We — huh?”

“Go wait for me in the living room, alright?” he states, briefly kissing the back of your hand before letting go. “I’m sure Gran kept some of my presentable stuff hung up in my closet. Shouldn’t take me that long to get ready. A buddy of mine’s brother owns a restaurant in the shopping district.”

“But Caleb—”

“Ah-ah, nope.”

His lips pop the ‘p’ purposefully.

Caleb turns in a semi-circle to you, his boyish black hair skating over his eyes as the cockiness returns in a grin.

“Actually — might wanna grab your that shoe you tried attacking me with and its twin, then go wait for me in the living room. Can’t have you runnin’ barefoot on the sidewalk. You catch colds too easily.”

In true Caleb fashion, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But you have better things to do than placate me!

(It isn’t placating if I want to do it, pipsqueak.)

But you probably have to return super early in the morning!

(Don’t care. I’ve pulled all-nighters worse than this.)

Caleb, you really don’t have to—

(Don’t finish that sentence.)

So you don’t.

Words cease to exist the minute you see Caleb walk out of his bedroom wearing his original Deepspace Aviation Administration dress uniform. You’ve only seen it once before at his graduation, all buttoned up in properly pressed olives and golds.

He walks towards you with that signature smirk of his, the one that makes just about everyone in Linkon City — and now Skyhaven — swoon no matter where he goes.

He looks beautiful.

(He should be out spending this holiday with a proper girlfriend, not you.)

It’s the mantra on your mind the entire way to the restaurant.

The way he holds the door open for you.

The way he pulls your chair out and makes sure you’re properly situated at a candlelit table.

The way he reaches across the table to squeeze your hand as if to reassure you—

Or himself—

That it’s not weird.

It isn’t, right?

Being here with the person who knows you best after all these years when you were meant to be sitting across from a damn near stranger; it isn’t like anyone in this restaurant knows your unusual upbringing, what you mean to one another.

So you squeeze back, and you see it: the tension in Caleb’s shoulders fades away.

For what it’s worth, his friend’s restaurant is far better than whatever you were going to have with your ghost.

The two of you share a bottle of wine and have the longest conversations you’ve held since he left for the academy.

Like the old days.

The ones where you’d spend countless hours in the summer heat enjoying the fireflies.

The night skies littered with stars and swallowed by light pollution — that never stopped Caleb from telling you all about the planes passing over your heads.

Infectious; the sheer excitement to think of a new tomorrow waiting at the end of today.

And like two kids who didn’t know any better, you fell victim to speaking like the other would be an important part of that very tomorrow.

Video calls nightly, reduced to phone calls.

Phone calls weekly, reduced to texts.

Texts to… well, surprises like this.

Now, in the present, he’s still important. He’s still your gege, even if that title is a square piece trying to fit in a circular hole.

No person will ever fill the Caleb-sized hole left in his absence as he reaches for the stars he so desperately wished to seek.

(And the wine’s beginning to taste like he needs to know that.)

“C’mon. Hop up.”

You’re several blocks from the restaurant walking in silence when Caleb is the first to break through the silence.

Ordering any and all desserts off the menu that your heart desires, demanding the check to pay completely on his own dime — he’s spoiled you and then some tonight.

I’ll take care of you, remember? That was my promise.

Except this is Valentine’s Day.

(Don’t you understand the importance of Valentine’s Day, gege?)

The question lingers on your tongue with venomous self hatred. Caleb has always been quick to act as your savior, putting your needs above all else, but this was the one night where you wanted something special.

You can’t be special to the man walking beside you, not in the way the holiday suggests.

Too many problems.

Too many implications.

(We’re not joined by blood, only wine.)

That very wine turns sour the longer your heels irritate your feet in this slow, silent trek back to Gran’s house.

It’s when his melodic voice snaps you out of your mental spiral, causing your eyes to meet a softening violet gaze.

Winking, he assumes position: the taller man playfully squats with his hands low and at the ready to catch you mid-flight.

“What?” you finally blurt, trying to catch up to where this came from.

“C’mon, you’ve been wobbling on those heels for two blocks,” Caleb states, nodding once and nearly knocking his aviation cap. “Get on up here.”

“You want to carry me?”

“Does it look like I’m proposing anything else?” he retorts. “Don’t get big and brave. Big and brave means we’ll be dealing with blisters.”

When you hesitate a second more, his voice drops to a gentler tone.

“You’re overthinking, pipsqueak. I don’t want you hurting your feet. You got a city to keep safe in the morning, remember?”

Damn it.

He’s not wrong.

Relentling as you sling your small purse over your shoulder, you assume position with your arms wrapped around his neck.

When you hop up, Caleb effortlessly catches you without so much as a grunt from the added weight.

“Thatta girl. See, was that so hard?”

“I don’t have my hunter’s license yet,” you answer instead, combating his earlier sentiment as you relax against his back. He’s always been strong, but you're surprised by the sheer muscle nestled against your chest. “I’m not saving any lives right now.”

“You never know,” he states as he easily maneuvers across the street to stay the course leading to Gran’s house. “You’re smart. Capable. Strong. Who’s to say you don’t graduate early?”

“Oh, har-har,” you grumble as you drop your cheek against his back. Even if you can’t see it, the low chuckle he emits helps you envision a growing grin. “I won’t be graduating tomorrow. Early, maybe, but definitely not tomorrow.”

“How’s it going, by the way?”

“Mm?”

“Hunter school, duh.”

“Oh, you’re asking now?”

Caleb turns a corner, giving him a momentary pause. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it at dinner.”

No, you didn’t.

(It’s so irritating, being seen sometimes.)

“Besides getting ditched for a date?” you inquire. “Not bad.”

Biceps tense against your sides.

“You didn’t get ditched,” he corrects, airier than before. “You made better plans.”

“Technically you told me to grab my shoes, so I didn’t make anything,” you argue in return, the wine adding a boldness to your tongue. “I just followed your orders.”

With a tsk, tsk, tsk under his breath, the fingers around your thighs squeeze the bare flesh as a teasing warning to knock it off.

Caleb finally crosses the street to Gran’s front door, only setting you down to fish the front door key from his uniform pocket.

As soon as he has the door opened, however, he props it with his knee and loops an arm around your back.

Using the hand curled around your upper arm, he pushes you backwards and straight into his arms. He scoops just under your knees in a bridal style carry through the threshold of the house.

Your shriek twists into a bewildered cackle at the abruptness of his gentlemanly reprise, your arms scrambling to hold his neck for dear life.

He carefully maneuvers you both into your bedroom. “What?” he asks with amusement peppering his tone. “Something up?”

“Yes!” you laugh as he gingerly sets you down on your bed. “Or — I guess not anymore.”

Caleb grins as he drops to a knee, his slender fingers deftly working on the loops of your heels.

“Haven’t heard you laugh like that since high school.”

“No?”

“Nah,” he states, sliding the shoe off with caution — avoiding any possible blisters they may have caused while simultaneously searching your heel and toes for blemishes. When satisfied, he starts on the second heel. “It’s nice.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m being serious, pipsqueak,” he replies, brows knit together with another huff of amusement. “I was afraid hunter school would’ve wiped off your sense of humor or something. The pros in the field always seem so… serious.”

His fingers absently rub along the arch of your foot, pressing into the tender muscle with the pads of his thumbs.

Your eyelids flutter from the sheer pleasure of such a simple movement.

Just as you’d hoped that maybe he’d continue tending to the weary soles of your feet, Caleb freezes.

His hands remain where they are, but his eyes drop to your lap to avoid yours.

Something feels… off.

Like there’s something on the tip of his tongue — something maybe lingering on yours as well — but the silence engulfs the telepathic conversation warring in your minds.

So you break it, skirting past the tension.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” you admit under your breath, earnest and appreciative.

Caleb’s chin lifts without hesitation this time, his violet eyes wider.

The muscles in his cheeks twitch, suppressing a smile before it can fully surface, before speaking just as softly.

“Your only — hopefully.”

“Not my only, no.”

When his face falls, you cheekily follow up with a growing smile of your own.

“Technically you used to always be my Valentine, back in the day, so I've had Valentine's Days to remember before. Don’t think I forgot the baskets you used to make up for me so easily.”

It takes a second, but life eventually returns to his face in screaming color.

If the room wasn’t so dark, you’d swear the man kneeling before you was blushing.

“Damn, you remember those crappy things?”

“Do you seriously think I’d forget my after school Valentine’s Day baskets, Caleb? Really?”

“It’s been a while,” he argues, letting go of your foot to rest both palms on the ruffled sheets on either side of your hips. “We were just kids.”

“Yeah, but it meant something.”

Just like tonight.

Caleb has always gone above and beyond for your comfort.

(Your praise.)

Always putting your needs before his; always sorting out solutions that benefit you the most; always coming in last for eating, for sleeping, for taking showers, for…

Everything.

Even tonight, so long as it means it makes you happy.

Yet even if the wine loosens your secrets, you don’t expect him to confess why he spent so much of his waking hours catering to you and you alone.

(Square space, meet circular abyss.)

His eyes crinkle as he smiles up at you, admiring what sits in front of him.

The look makes your stomach somersault, heart yearning to reach for him — to touch the warmth of his skin and bask in an endless summer —

“You look deep in thought, pipsqueak.”

Caleb’s voice takes you from the dreamlike fantasy, short-circuiting the directive to never speak about what’s right in front you.

“You said this was a date, right?”

The question falls out of your mouth faster than intended.

Still all smiles, you note the furrow in Caleb’s brow.

“Sure, why?”

“And it was good?”

“I mean, I thought so,” he states. “We didn’t even come home with leftovers, so I can’t imagine you’re gonna tell me that you hated the restaur—”

“Don’t good dates usually end with a kiss?”

Every ounce of heat in this room vanishes in a flash.

The playful smile remains, but the intent shifts from earnest to disingenuous in a flinch.

A mask; micro-movements in the muscles of his face show a new story about the night, one not as innocent as his knight in shining armor may have originally displayed.

You can only hope you aren’t reading between the wrong lines.

When your question isn’t met with an answer, rejection squeezes your stomach mercilessly.

You didn’t read between the lines, no — you crossed them, possibly to a degree you may never recover from.

“It’s fine,” you blurt immediately, waving your hands wildly in front of your chest.

Caleb’s face falls in worried despair, and you find that this new onslaught of adrenaline is making you nauseous.

“Wait—”

“Forget I said that. Whoops, the wine—”

“Hey, no, don’t hide from me.”

Before you can press your palm to your forehead, those same warm hands curl around your fingers to tug it down.

“C’mon.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid—

In an attempt to create some distance, you push yourself back onto your bed and swing your bare feet out of Caleb’s orbit, side-stepping him completely.

Standing to take to a pace, you don’t have the willpower to ask him to leave.

“It’s fine, seriously. Thank you for the nice night,” you keep going, trying to talk yourself out of the panic you feel eroding your belly.

Crying would just make this worse.

“Pipsqueak, don’t.”

“You said you had an early morning, right?”

Finally turning to face him, his image is watery at best.

You blink as fast as you can to eliminate the tears brewing in your eyes, but they seem to be working faster.

Caleb’s eyes grow impossibly wide at the sight of your struggles, as though your confliction hurts his very goddamn soul.

His long legs take one stride, another, a final until his large hands imprison your face to stare right into his.

You realize too late that he’s leaning in.

Dipping down.

—and a pause.

What was once covered in ice is thawed, and soon the warmth — the heat — of the most important man of your life returns.

Those violet eyes stare down at your nose, dipping lower, cursed to stall.

You don’t move.

Couldn’t, not when your lungs have seized with confusion; anticipation.

“Tell me not to.”

His voice doesn’t sound the same — once cocky and confident, walking through life with everyone adoring his Midas touch, now withers and dies as a broken plea.

His breath mixes with yours.

You can still smell the red wine on his tongue.

“...Caleb?”

The pinkish flecks of his eyes flicker when he raises his attention.

In the dim light of the window, he looks boyish here.

Scared.

“Tell me not to,” he weakly repeats. “Just tell me not to and I won’t.”

Oh.

Now you’re the one at a loss for words.

“If you didn’t mean to ask,” he clarifies, tone trembling, “if you want to rewind to five minutes ago, then I’ll go to my room. I’ll leave in the morning, but if you —”

Stopping himself, the man looks physically pained when his eyes close, inhaling slowly as if to settle his budding nerves.

The tension in his jaw bubbles, clenches, until he exhales through his nose as steadily as he can.

“But if you say yes, I won’t be—”

“Please?”

The word — the request, the plea — escapes faster than intended.

So does Caleb’s restraint.

Both hands holding your face drag you forward, your bare feet sliding along the floor, until you feel a gentle pressure on your lips.

Your hands grab the front of his uniform, balling the fabric between your fists as you decidedly press back.

His makes a noise of surprise against your mouth, melting into the reciprocation.

You notice as you both exhale, parting for only a moment before pressing lips against lips once more, that his hands are shaking.

Maybe you’re shaking, too.

Because it should feel wrong. Every time you’ve fantasized about being the girl he takes to a formal, the woman his eyes linger on for too long from across the bar, you’ve been struck with the immense shame in the back of your mind.

Wrong, like he was ever truly blood.

Wrong, like the fates laughed in the face of undeniable desire.

Wrong, like you would ever love anyone more than Caleb.

Nothing has ever felt more right.

All you can focus on is the way he smells, like woodsy cologne and red wine; the way he touches you so preciously, his thumb absently running along your cheekbone the longer you kiss in the middle of your bedroom; the way he sounds with every press and pull, gutted with pure arousal and want.

Your name, fluttering against his tongue, before it glides along your lower lip.

You don’t deny him.

He groans as if your refusal to stop could ruin him, but there is a sharp inhale before a chill passes against your glistening lips.

Caleb pulls away to find a purchase of air, violet eyes as dark as deepspace while regarding the haze of affection he’s met by your fluttering eyes.

“Hey.”

The greeting is shy.

Small.

Swallowing to coat your dry throat, you weakly reply. “Hey.”

“You good?” he murmurs, petting the crown of your head affectionately.

A dam has broken — for the next few minutes, you have Caleb at his most raw.

Gone is the guarded expression you’ve learned to live with, replaced with radiating affection.

Despite yourself, you nod.

“Should I ask where you learned to kiss like that?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

Wait.

Your expression smooths with recognition. “What do you mean—?”

A smile, euphoric and unabashed, breaks out.

“What, you think I’m busy kissing aliens or something when I’m out flying?”

Scorned by his playfulness, you bump your fist against his broad chest.

“Caleb.”

“What?” he teases. “You asked — but, ah… no. That was—”

His brow knits for a moment, a blush creeping up his neck to his ears.

“My best effort at my first. Why, couldn’t tell?”

You.

His first kiss happened with you.

Your lips tingle with the shock — the sheer satisfaction — of holding that title.

“Don’t go back to your room tonight,” you softly state instead, reaching for his hand to squeeze it. The blush on his face only intensifies, so you let out a tiny scoff. “To cuddle, genius. I’m not looking to check off all of the boxes in one night.”

Caleb makes a tsk sound with his tongue before tilting his head.

“Preserving my honor, I see.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Even if you’ve gone past the point of no return—-

Even if you’re crossed the line—

Somehow he’s still Caleb, and you’re still you.

You thought that if one day you both took the impossible, forbidden leap of faith, that it would destroy the very foundation of what you’ve been since you were children.

Yet it feels like it was meant to always be this way — as if it’s as catastrophic as a rogue breeze on a summer night.

Taking his hand, you pull him back to your bed.

As you slide onto the mattress to get comfortable, Caleb shrugs out of his uniform jacket, leaving him in a white tee.

He crawls alongside you the way he used to during thunderstorms, scooping you close to his chest while his heavy arm settles around your waist.

Protective.

You settle against him just as you always have, eyes closed.

Only the feel of his heart racing against your back remains.

For a moment you both lay here, basking in what’s happened — what will never be the same — before his voice murmurs against your neck.

“If you ever wanted to check off all of the boxes—”

His nose nuzzles your skin, humming at its scent.

“—they’ve always been yours to take.”

author's note: caleb gripped me tight and raised me from season depression perdition and i owe him my life (dramatic but true). this is my first ever lads fic despite being a week one player so tysm for reading !! i hope to write more in the very near future. happy valentine's day, tumblr friends. xoxo amy

#caleb love and deepspace #caleb x reader #lads caleb #caleb lads #caleb x mc #caleb fluff #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace fic #lnds fluff #lads fanfic #lads fluff

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elllisaaa · 1 day ago

Text

SHAMELESS - Y. JEONGIN

KINKTOBER DAY 24 - MUTUAL MASTURBATION

SUMMARY : you always had a soft spot for your best friend's little brother, maybe a little crush if you were honest. however, learning that he was still a virgin despite being this hot, you take it into your own hands to show him how it should be done.

-> pairing : best friend's brother!jeongin x fem!reader

-> words count : 4.2k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : sub!jeongin x dom!reader, virign!jeongin & experienced!reader, slight age gap (reader is a bit older than jeongin), alcohol consumption, fingering, handjob, breast play, mutual masturbation, making out, lingerie, teasing, begging, dry humping, marked, dirty talk, use of 'good boy', oral (f. receiving)

+ the way i'm depicting jeongin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | kinktober 2024

All your friends knew you had a soft spot for Jeongin, even his own sister knew. You didn’t exactly know what it was in him that made it impossible for you to let him go, but your attraction was undeniable. At first, it was truly innocent - you just invited him sometimes to hang out for a while with you and your friends because the poor boy would often spend his weekends alone, and it wasn’t that bad to take him away from his games so he could share a drink or two with you before you left for the club.

“- Your turn Jeongin, truth or dare ?

- Uh, I don’t know, truth ?”

The poor boy was always a little awkward when he didn’t have his first drink, but once he had loosened up, it was easier to have him admit some things and he actually enjoyed these little hangouts. You were getting ready with his sister and one of your other friends, sitting in the living room with bottles of alcohol and juice opened and ready to make a new drink at any moment. As you focused on doing both wings of your eyeliner the same way, your friend asked her a question.

“- When was the last time you had sex ?

- Ew, I don’t want to know that ! He’s my brother.

- Come on, you’re not fun ! Go away then, I wanna know. And I’m sure Y/N wants to know too.”

You rolled your eyes at her, and you avoided everyone else's gaze as focused on your own face reflecting through the mirror of your eyeshadow palette as you put the finishing touches to your makeup. The slight buzz of alcohol was already getting to you, and you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you would have normally been. But you could still sense Jeongin’s eyes on you, as if he was trying to understand what your friend meant. His sister covered her ears with her hands while he answered.

“- Well, I- I’ve never had sex, actually so…

- What ? You’re still a virgin ? No way.

- This is too much !”

Your best friend left the room to go get dressed, but you couldn’t believe what you had just heard either. You had always assumed that he must’ve had at least one or two girlfriends, but you weren't expecting this. Jeongin’s cheeks had taken a deep shade of red - which was cute, you had to admit - as he shrugged, trying to keep some kind of composure and acting nonchalant while he took another sip of his drink.

“- I don’t understand why it is so shocking.

- Well, look at yourself in a mirror. You might be my friend’s brother but I know a fine man when I see one. Right, Y/N ?

- Uh, yeah, she’s right.”

Your gaze lingered on Jeongin longer than it should have, but it seemed like he couldn’t detach his gaze from you either. You stayed looking at each other for a few seconds, before you broke eye contact with him. The way your heart was beating in your chest, and the way some kind of well-known heat was rising through your body definitely wasn’t something you should be feeling for your best friend’s brother. Soon enough, the subject switched to something else, and you were left alone with your thoughts and the feeling that Jeongin eyes couldn’t leave your figure as you picked up your things to put them in your purse before heading out. Everytime you would look back his way, he would simply avoid your gaze and focus on his phone screen or his drink instead, pretending that he wasn’t devouring you with his eyes a few seconds ago.

At least, your clubbing session did make you feel good, the alcohol helping you relax and the loud music pushing every parasite's thoughts out of your mind for a moment. By the time you went back to your best friend’s apartment, it was already way past 5 in the morning. Your two friends went to crash in bed immediately, giggling and loudly talking nonsense. The sound of the door of her bedroom closing shut behind them drowned out their laughs as you smiled to yourself while getting out of your high-heeled boots. You could still feel the agreable rush of all the drinks you had but you were conscious enough to think about drinking a glass of water before going to bed too. As you were about to head to the bathroom to take off your makeup, you almost ran into Jeongin who was walking out of his own room, looking like he hadn’t slept at all. You giggled as you steadied yourself by grabbing his shoulders.

“- Oops ! Sorry, didn’t see you !”

Jeongin's right arm slid down to your waist to keep you straight up. Truthfully, you didn’t really need it to stand on your feet, you were not that drunk. But you let his hand rest against the naked skin of the small of your back that your crop top revealed, his own warm skin heating up your hot one even more and making another sort of warmth run through your veins.

“- It’s okay. Are you alright ? Did you have fun ?”

You nodded with a big smile stretching out your face to both questions, missing the way Jeongin’s eyes went down to your cleavage and then back up to your face every two seconds. He was trying so hard to not seem like a pervert, but the way you were allowing him to be so close to you, to touch you in a way that was way too intimate, that was driving him crazy.

“- So much fun ! But I don’t understand how you can still be a virgin…”

The sudden change of subject caught him out of guard, and his cheeks took that same shade of red once more, and again, you couldn’t help but think that he was really cute when he was embarrassed like that. Would he have that same look on his face if you dropped down to your knees and sucked him off, right now ? Would he look at you the same way if you told him everything he had you fantasizing about ?

“- I- I don’t know, it’s just how things are ? Girls aren’t really interested in losers like me you know…”

You frowned as you considered his words. A loser ? Jeongin ? Sure, he spent a lot of time playing video games. But he also spent a good amount of time at the gym, and if only he showed off his biceps a little more, there would be tons of girls at his feet, begging for a chance to go on a date with him. Because he already had a cute face, and a cute smile, and pretty hands, and…

“- Well, they should really start to get interested in losers like you. Because I am.

- W-What do you mean ?

- I mean that you’re handsome Innie. Can’t you see that ? If it wasn’t for your sister, I would’ve made a move on you a long time ago.”

With each step you took closer to him, Jeongin took a step back, until his back hit the wall of the hallway behind him. His blush was even more visible now, and despite the pure shock in his eyes, there was also an underlying lust, a contained desire that you couldn’t wait to unleash.

“- Y/N, I…

- What ? Don’t you think I’m pretty too ? Don’t you want me Innie ?”

The poor boy gulped down loudly as he tried to not let the bulge slowly forming underneath his clothes become too noticeable. He didn’t really understand what was happening, if this was all a dream or not, but he wasn’t going to miss his chance in either case.

“- Fuck… I’ve wanted you since she introduced you to me.”

A smirk spread on your lips as you took one step forward again, your chest now pressed against his, making it impossible for him to escape - even though he didn’t want to - and also making it impossible to not look down at your boobs squished together in your ridiculously tiny top.

“- Then stop thinking. Let me show you how good it feels.

- Please…”

This was the last word Jeongin managed to get out before you took a hold of his jaw and pulled him down to your lips to kiss him. His reaction was immediate, almost like it was a reflex : he took a hold of your waist, pressing your bodies together and his lips moved against yours hungrily, expressing all his frustration, all the longing through this kiss. You hummed against his mouth when one of his hands slid back up to angle your face differently, taking advantage of your appreciative noise to slip his tongue through your lips. You welcomed it gratefully, now fully making out with him in the middle of the hallway, his sister sleeping only a room away. When Jeongin finally let you go, you were both breathless, and the heat you felt had increased by ten.

“- Are you sure you’re still a virgin ? Because you’re a great kisser…”

He rolled his eyes at your question, annoyance written all over his face. You let out a yelp of surprise as he suddenly pushed you to his room. He didn’t have to do much effort to make you stumble back until you were sitting on his bed, proving once more that he was hiding a lot of muscles under his oversized pants and hoodies.

“- Just because I never had sex doesn’t mean I never kissed anyone.”

You leaned on your elbows, exposing your curves to him as you tilted your head to the side, a smirk taking over your face. You loved how easy it was for him to switch up from his awkward and shy demeanor to someone a lot more confident - and you liked it either way.

“- How far did you go then ?”

As you toyed with the hem of your black miniskirt, you saw his cheeks taking that shade of red again. Though, he couldn’t detach his eyes from the way you were slowly pushing the material higher and higher up your thighs, revealing more and more skin to his hungry gaze.

“- I just… Kissed. And did a little foreplay.

- No need to be embarrassed, baby. We have all been there once.”

Jeongin gulped down again as he nodded, still watching intently as you left your skirt alone to go up to your chest, your hands cupping them over the material of your top. You let out a sigh of relief at the action, looking up at him as he was still standing up in front of you, the boner in his sweatpants now more than obvious.

“- Did you do this ?”

Again, Jeongin nodded, eyes glued to the way you were squishing your tits together and hitching to do it himself, to feel the plushness of your skin under his hands by himself. You seductively smiled at him as you let one of your hands slide down in between your thighs, pressing your fingers against your clothed clit and letting out a satisfied hum.

“- And this ?”

This time, Jeongin shook his head. He was too entranced by the show you were putting on for him to be able to form sentences or even think about words anymore. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

“- Want me to touch you ?

- Fuck… Yes, please…”

You smiled at him in a much softer way as you patted the spot beside you on his bed, inviting him to come sit with you. Even if you just wanted to jump him, you wanted every step of the way to be enjoyable for him, show him how good sex felt. Jeongin obeyed right away, and you immediately straddled him. His hands instinctively went to hold your waist and looked up at you, waiting for your next command.

“- Tell me if you want me to stop, tell me if it’s too much, yeah ?

- Yes.”

The way the words left his mouth so quickly made you smile again and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into another heated kiss. The buzz of alcohol heightened every one of your senses, and the way you had craved this for a while paired with the way Jeongin was so eager to please you quickly made you sigh in pleasure against his lips. Jeongin drank every little sound you made, relishing in the way he seemed to be able to have such an effect on you. The kiss was slow, but intense and passionate, and he didn’t hesitate to deepen it when he felt like he needed more. And you let him find his own rhythm, let him set the pace.

“- You really are good at kissing Innie…

- Really ?

- Hm… With a little practice, you could become the best.”

What you implied didn’t go on a deaf ears and Jeongin shivered at the thought of this becoming a regular occurrence. He wanted that. He wanted it so bad. And his unfocused eyes were telling you everything you needed to know as he pulled you in for another long kiss. You experimentally moved against him, your still clothed cunt rubbing against his boner - to test his reaction - and a pleased whimper slipped past his lips, getting swallowed by your hungry mouth.

As you started to slowly rock your hips against him, he strengthened his grip on your waist. His breath was getting shorter and you could feel his sanity slipping away. It was almost cute how sensitive he was, but mostly, it only increased your own desire to show him how good it felt to be touched by someone else, to touch someone else.

“- Does that feel good ?

- Yes… Really good.

- You can touch me, Innie.”

Jeongin nodded, but you could see that he was still hesitant to move his hands away from the secured spot of your waist. You smiled at him as you took one of his hands in yours, slowly moving it up to your chest and letting it rest here without breaking eye contact even once. You could see the way his breathing hitched in his throat and you could see the way he was now unable to detach his gaze from your cleavage. He tentatively squeezed your tit, and you encouraged him with your hums of pleasure, a different kind of thrill rushing through your veins as Jeongin got more and more confident.

Within two minutes of touching your boobs, he was shamelessly groping them over your top, his head buried in your neck, sucking hickeys on your skin without a care in the world for the marks it was going to leave. Your dry humping had intensified, way too turned on by the way he now seemed unable to stop having his hands on you. But you were feeling that urge to discover his body too, to know what he was truly hiding under all of his oversized clothes. So you gently pushed him away, biting your lips at the way he seemed so clueless, so gone, only wanting to bury his face in between your tits again.

“- Was it not good ?”

A soft smile took over your face as you leaned down to kiss his pouty lips. It was really cute how he almost forgot about his own raging erection because he wanted to please you, to make you feel good too.

“- It was really good, Innie. I just want to touch you too, if that’s okay ?”

Jeongin nodded again, his brain still having trouble processing the whole situation as you pushed his shirt over his head, leaving his upper body exposed. His cheeks went red again as he saw you detail his chest, arms and abs. You said nothing for a few seconds, letting your eyes devour him first, and then running your hand along the toned muscles of his chest, down to his defined abs that tensed under the feather like touch.

“- You’re so sexy… So handsome, I knew you were but damn…”

The compliment made him awkwardly chuckle, not really used to show off his body. He was working hard on it, that was true, but since he didn’t have someone to expose it to, he wasn’t hearing these types of praises everyday. And especially not from you, the girl he had a crush on and an insatiable lust for.

“- Don’t be so shy, baby… You should get used to that.”

And again, your words had an underlying tone that let him think that it could happen again. But he didn’t want to get his hopes up, so he just let you do your thing as you explored the skin of his torso with your hands and the skin of his neck with your lips. And your overwhelming presence soon made him forget about everything that wasn’t what was happening in that moment anyway. Jeongin closed his eyes, not trying to hold back the small moans escaping him and letting you mark his body in hickeys too. By the time your hands reached the waistband of his sweats, he was already breathless and so hard it was starting to be painful.

“- Is it still okay ?”

Your sugary sweet voice paired with the way you were playing with the hem of his clothes made him nod faster than he ever had. You chuckled under your breath as you let your fingers slip under his pants until you could reach his very hard cock. The first contact with your fingers had Jeongin moaning a little louder and his whole body tensing. And when you wrapped your whole hand around his length, slowly starting to jerk him off, he was definitely gone, definitely ready to drop everything to have you do this again and again.

“- You’re doing so good for me Innie…”

A small, muffled moan answered your praises and you just smiled back at him as you sped up your rhythm a little bit. Any trace of alcohol in your system had definitely disappeared by now, your focus only on Jeongin and the way he reacted to your touch, the delicious sounds he was making and how good he looked when he was feeling good like that.

“- Y/N… Let me touch you too, let me make you feel good too… Please…”

He was almost begging to have a glimpse of your pussy, and who were you to deny him. You pecked his lips in approval as you got off the bed to get rid of your underwear, keeping your skirt that was too complicated to get out of right now. You settled back over his thighs, grabbing his hand in yours and pushing his fingers in your mouth to coat them in your saliva. This was partly for lubrication, and partly because you had been dreaming about these hands for far too long to not do it now that you had the chance too. And Jeongin was just looking up at you as if you hung up the stars in the sky, as if you were a goddess, and you liked the confidence boost maybe a little too much.

“- Let me guide you baby, yeah ?”

He nodded along again, letting you push his hands down from your lips to between your legs. He gulped as you pressed the pads of his fingers against your wetness, feeling what he assumed was the clit by the way you sighed in relief as you rubbed his hand against it.

“- Just this much pressure is good for me, but some girls like it faster or slower, you have to ask.”

Jeongin listened to you, but he didn’t dare tell you that he didn’t plan to use this knowledge with anyone other than you. The only things he wanted to learn about were how to perfectly please you, how to make you cum and want more, how to make you come back to him. So he made sure to perfectly follow your rhythm, not flattering when you let him move on his own and started to jerk him off again, this time pulling his cock out of his sweats. Suddenly, you wanted to go down on your knees and take him into your mouth because he did have a very pretty dick - and it wasn’t a compliment you threw around this easily.

“- Are you feeling good ? Am I doing good ?

- Yes, you’re doing really good Innie… Wanna make me feel even better ?

- Yeah…”

His immediate and eager response despite the fact that he was obviously starting to leak precum all over himself made you smile again. You loved how curious he was, how willing to discover and to let you teach him everything he needed to know he was. You grabbed his hand again, halting the cautious circles he was drawing on your clit to push his fingers lower, having them barely grazing against your more than wet entrance. You both gasped at the sensation, and your back arched slightly when Jeongin took it up himself to push one of his fingers inside, just enough for you to feel it.

“- Is it okay ? Can I… Can I do this ?

- Hm, yes… Feels good, don’t stop.”

His brows were furrowed in concentration as he made sure to be careful when he fully pushed his middle finger inside of you. The way you were clenching down around him made him wonder about how good it would feel to have you wrapped around his cock instead and he throbbed in your hand that was still moving slowly around his dick, reminding him of his own arousal. You encouraged him to continue what he was doing with your endless praises, and soon enough, he was confident enough to push another one of his fingers inside of you, mesmerized by the way you were reacting - mouth opening and letting out a moan, squeezing him in your hand and your hips grinding against his palm as if it was a second nature.

“- Does it feel good ?

- It does, Innie. Stop worrying about me, yeah ? You’re being such a good boy…”

Jeongin was always the first to laugh in his friend’s face for being wrapped around their girlfriend’s fingers but he realized in that moment that he was about to become way worse than them. He whined and chased your lips, all of the pleasure rushing into his veins starting to get way too much for him to stay quiet. The way you chuckled before grabbing his jaw and bringing your lips down on his for a hungry, messy kiss had him whimpering even louder. You made him weak, and he loved it so much.

Noticing how sensitive and squirmy he had become, you sped up your movements around his cock. The thrusts of his fingers inside of you were regular, almost too slow, but it was so different from what you were used to, almost like a calculated rhythm that was starting to get to you and get you wanting more of it. And it didn’t help that his fingers were so long, and that they were making you feel so full, you just had to grind against his palm to get a bit of friction on your clit.

You were so entranced by the kiss that you barely noticed it when Jeongin’s body started to shake. It was only when you felt a hot spurt of cum landing on your hand that you noticed he was indeed cumming, a strangled moan escaping him as you kept up your rhythm. The way he seemed just as surprised as you was arguably very cute, and you kept stroking him slowly and kissing his lips until he tried to get away from your touch.

“- I-I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t feel it coming…”

His embarrassment was coming back full force, and you were really, really starting to get addicted to how adorable he looked with his red cheeks and shifty eyes. You wiped your hand against your thigh, not caring too much for his cum before you grabbed his face, smiling at him while you tried to ignore the fact that his fingers were still stuffed inside of you even if he wasn’t moving them anymore.

“- Did it feel good ?”

Jeongin nodded and your smile only widened.

“- Then never be embarrassed about having a good time baby.

- But what about you ? You didn’t cum, did you ?”

You chuckled as you shook your head, placing another kiss on his pursed lips. You were thoroughly fucked. You knew you shouldn’t have started this at all, but now that you were here, you didn’t want to leave anymore.

“- No, but it’s okay. I enjoyed watching you.”

There was a look of disappointment on Jeongin’s face as he looked up at you. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, as if he was trying to think about what he was going to do next, and before you knew it, he had you pinned underneath him, his larger frame hovering over you as his eyes were glued to your exposed cunt. Your squeal of surprise at his unexpected move made him look up at your eyes that were now pleading you.

“- Please, teach me how to make you cum. I wanna make you feel good too. I wanna… I wanna eat you out. Teach me.”

And how could you say no when he was so eager to learn, so eager to please you, so pliant when you pushed his head in between your thighs ? And from the way he was hungrily lapping at your folds, you were assured that your “teaching” wouldn’t stop there.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts and translations of my works.

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mintfullyyours · 2 days ago

Text

something blue

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

I'd originally written this as a multi-chap fic so this is what I have so far. Thank you so much for reading!! I really appreciate and love talking to everyone about the 141! authors here are so talented and feed me in every way that I'm grateful to have this creative outlet too.

AnYWAY!!! LMK what y'all think.

Other Simon pics for your consideration: amnesiac!simon part 1, amnesiac!simon part 2-ish, patching up exhusband!simon, ex-husband!simon part 2, to give a dog a bone (aka saving simon once),

"Baby, listen, I needed a break so I could do some... soul-searching."

You pressed your phone to your ear, weaving through the crowd as you descended the escalator toward baggage claim. "And soul-searching had to happen between your assistant's legs?"

"It was one time," James sighed, exasperation laced in his voice.

"Right. And that makes it better somehow?" You scoffed, adjusting the duffle bag slipping off your shoulder. "Listen, James, I have to go. It’s my sister's wedding week, and I’m really looking forward to explaining to my entire family why my cheating ex won’t be in attendance—for obvious reasons."

Too focused on maneuvering through the sea of travelers, you didn’t notice the hulking figure in your path until you collided—shouldering a body that felt like solid stone. A shock shot through you, something sharp and electric, like static but deeper, rippling under your skin.

"Shit—sorry," you mumbled, barely sparing the man a glance. But even in that fleeting moment, there was something about him. The sheer size of him, the weight of his gaze, the way he felt — like gravity had shifted just for him.

A grunt emanated from his lips. You shook your head and darted away from him – not wanting to deal with the locals and refocused your attention on the carousel.

“Baby, I—”

"Nope. Goodbye." You hung up mid-protest and exhaled, exasperated. The last thing you needed was James’ voice in your ear ruining the little bit of peace you had left.

The conveyor belt whirred to life and your simple black suitcase rolled into view. You grabbed it swiftly, eager to put distance between you and the airport chaos, already exhausted by the week ahead. You just needed a hot shower, a drink, and a moment to forget your disaster of a love life.

Unbeknownst to you, across the baggage claim, a towering man in a black hoodie with a camouflage print duffle bag was staring down at a suitcase identical to yours.

Simon Riley’s brow furrowed beneath his mask as he realized his luggage was missing.

At your hotel room, you finally picked up your mother’s call—something you’d been avoiding all night.

“You’re coming for... As the Brits would say afternoon tea tomorrow, right?” she asked, her voice chipper and expectant. “Your sister’s future in-laws will be there too.”

“Yeah, of course, Mom,” you mumbled, shutting the curtains to your room.

“Oh, good! Wear the pink dress I bought you then.” You shuddered at the thought of wearing something so fluffy. “And you brought your sister’s baby pictures?”

You plopped onto the floor, suitcase in front of you, already unzipping it. “Yes, they’re in my lugga—”

Your words cut off as the sight before you sank in.

This… wasn’t your luggage.

“What the fuck…” you mumbled, sifting through the unfamiliar belongings. Your mother tsked on the other end. “Language.”

“Sorry, uh—yeah. I brought them,” you said absentmindedly, but panic had already started to settle in. Your suitcase could be anywhere by now. You were so screwed.

Your fingers frantically dug into the foreign clothing, pulling out neatly folded black shirts—all black, heavy-duty material, the kind that felt expensive but built for function. Then came the cargo pants, thick straps and buckles lining the sides. You lifted a jacket that looked like it weighed more than you, feeling the sheer size of it, like it belonged to a man carved from stone.

And then—your fingers brushed against something different.

Thick. Stiff. Worn.

You pulled it out, expecting a belt or gloves—only to be met with the hollow, gaping eyes of a skull mask.

A chill ran down your spine.

The material was sturdy, molded for durability, not for show. The kind of thing that didn’t belong in civilian luggage.

A weight settled in your stomach, but before you could even process it, your fingers brushed against another.

And then another.

Your pulse spiked as you pulled them free—three, four—each identical, yet different. Some had cracks along the bone-white surface, others bore deep scuffs, dark smudges, like they’d been through hell. One of them had what looked like dried blood staining the lower jaw.

Your mind raced. What the hell kind of person needed multiple skull masks? Your throat went dry. Was he some kind of serial killer? A mercenary? A complete fucking psycho? Why the hell did you have this bag?

“Also, did James arrive with you?”

Your mother’s voice cut through the silence. Another muttered fuck under your breath. “Who? Sorry, yeah, Mom… about that.”

“Is that Sissy?” a voice chirped in the background. “Gimme, gimme — hello?”

Your sister’s voice replaced your mother’s, bright and teasing. She was always so much better at this, at life, than you.

“Heyyy,” you said, forcing lightness into your tone, “I’m excited to see you tomorrow!”

“Ugh, same. Save me from the mom-sanity,” she giggled. “You’re bringing James, right? I’m dying to meet the guy!”

Your fingers traced the luggage lining, searching—praying—for some kind of identification. Then, finally, you found it. A small leather name tag, embossed with a name and phone number.

Without thinking, without breathing, you word-vomited the first name you saw. “Did I say James? Because I meant… Simon.”

A pause. Well you were committed to the bit now.

“...Simon Riley.”

The name sat heavy in the air, and your fingers tightened around the mask still in your lap.

You didn’t know who Simon Riley was. But for now that didn’t matter. The name sat heavy between you and your sister, stretching the air thin. Your sister broke the silence first, “Okay… I guess I have time to change the seating card but really sissy, you have to tell me these things sooner. And Simon's your boyfriend, right?”

She asked and then, a vibration.

Your head snapped to your phone screen.

UNKNOWN CALLER.

You chose to ignore it, "Yes, I'm with Simon. Been almost a year now." The lie came easily because what else could you have said?

Then another vibration.

This time, a text.

A single message.

“Wrong bag, love. But you already knew that.”

A chill shot down your spine with skull masks staring up at you. You gulped and hung up the phone after you reassured your sister you'd be there tomorrow. This was going to be a long night.

Now you and Simon Riley had never met before. Not properly, anyway.

The first time he knew you existed was because of a simple mix-up at the baggage claim. Nothing special. Nothing deliberate. Just a wrong bag taken by the wrong person at the worst possible time.

And yet—

The moment he unzipped your suitcase, his entire world tilted.

Your scent was the first thing that hit him. Something warm, something sweet. Not perfume—no, it was deeper than that. Skin and shampoo and you. He could smell it on the soft sweater tucked inside, the delicate pink lace of something he shouldn’t be touching, but he does anyway.

Then, there was the red floor-length dress.

The dress that, for some fucking reason, he couldn't stop staring at.

His fingers flexed around the fabric, his mind already playing tricks on him—How would it fit? Would it hug her just right? Would it be easy to pull up, to push aside—

His jaw clenched.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

But then there were the other things—small, delicate things that told him more about you than a conversation ever could. The book tucked into the side pocket. The neatly folded socks. The half-used lipstick that made his pulse tick in his throat.

What would that color look like staining the skin around his cock?

And that was when he knew.

Knew he had to see you.

He thanked the Universe for the handy contact information on your luggage tag and reached for his phone.

It wasn't about the luggage anymore.

It was about you.

Tag list

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telephoniii · 2 days ago

Text

HEARTSHAPED CHOCOLATES

☆彡 in which you gift jamil a valentine and things get complicated

jamil viper x gn!reader

word counter: 3.1K

warnings: reader is prefect, possible ooc, miscommunication (kinda), descriptions of servitude

a/n: i wrote this at 2AM but i think it's really cute. i’m definitely biased because jamil is my favorite and i do NOT have any valentines this year whatsoever 😭

i hope you enjoy!! :>

Jamil wiped down the counter with a frustrated sigh. Kalim had, once again, gone behind his word and threw a last-minute party. One that Jamil had to do a majority of the work for. And now here he was, cleaning up after the incompetent boy.

Nothing he wasn't used to, but upsetting nonetheless. Though, he supposed that he’d be lying to himself if he claimed it was the only reason he felt bitter. His eyes flickered toward a calendar that hung on the kitchen wall of Scarabia.

Tomorrow, it’d officially be Valentine's Day.

Now, most NRC students were as single as could be for a variety of reasons— being a celebrity, focusing on grades, etc. Jamil fell under the category of being too busy. So many, much more important matters were always fighting for his attention. And a lot of them are related to Kalim in some way or form.

Being a destined servant to the Al Asim household wasn't an ideal situation. Plain and simple. Especially when it came to romantic relationships.

In middle school, young Jamil had a few girls he was interested in. However, all hopes of those crushes blooming into anything more died when they witnessed Jamil and his family bowing down to Kalim.

It's difficult to explain his role to his peers. Of course, the older he got the easier it became. But for most of his childhood, it was extremely embarrassing to have to say that he was to devote his life to serving the Al Asim family forever.

It was humiliating, giving leeway for others his age to look down on him. Now it wasn't just Kalim who he was lesser than. It was everyone. And it was hardly fair. Jamil was smarter than all of them combined.

He caught on to things quickly and was easily adaptable. When learning magic, his movement was calculated and precise. Yet, because of his last name, the respect he deserved was never given… Needless to say, he never pursued any more crushes.

By the time he was enrolled in NRC, romance no longer seemed plausible for his lifestyle. He wouldn't be able to devote so much time to another person other than Kalim anyway. That man-child can barely do anything on his own to save his life.

Jamil was convinced he’d spend the rest of his youth alone, only really finding a potential partner once he was free from the chains of servitude.

…And then you showed up at NRC.

You and your stupid soft eyes; that genuine empathy you carried on your sleeve. It's idiotic, really. You were bound to get taken advantage of in a school like this. Against his better judgment, Jamil felt drawn to you.

Despite being magicless and from a whole other world, you seemed to understand and empathize with his struggles better than those he had grown up with. And you weren't just all bark, no bite. You helped out a lot.

Many can just say that they feel sorry for Jamil, yet stand idly by as he served Kalim. You, however, saw him through his overblot. Instead of moving on, you forced him to communicate with Kalim about how he was feeling. It would've been so easy to fall back into the status quo, yet you stayed and improved his life for the better.

He’ll never quite get how one person could leave such a big impact.

You eased his worries about servitude. Being around you was naturally calming. It didn't feel like he had to babysit when he spent time with you. In fact, he felt as though he was learning new things— about both himself and others— every day with you.

The feeling scared him to his soul.

It was terrifying to be this addicted to another person’s presence. He wasn't used to having someone to look forward to: someone he wanted to be around all the time.

Jamil didn't know whether or not to pursue you. The last thing he wanted was to drag you into more of his messes… however, you seemed to frequently do that yourself, choosing to be involved for his sake. He was truly infatuated.

Despite it all, he refused to make a move.

You weren't from this world and all too soon he was sure you’d find a way back to where you were meant to be. It’d be selfish of him to pursue you, trapping you in a place you didn't belong. He knows the feeling of being trapped all too well after all.

There were no telltale signs you’d be interested in him back anyway. You were friendly with all and close to many. Who’s to say one of those fancy princes or endearingly dumb freshmen isn’t the one who’s captured your heart?

He purposely doesn't stand out, unlike some other students. Jamil assumed this put him at a natural disadvantage.

Assumed being the keyword.

Of course you, always breaking his expectations, had to crumble his thoughts by gifting him chocolates.

“Jamil?”

His eyes moved from his textbook to you in a second. He raised a brow as he watched you stare at him with an unrecognizable glint in your eyes. “Did you need help with something, Prefect?”

Those words made you perk up, grounding you back in reality. “No! No. I’m fine. Just…”

Clearing your throat, you put down your pencil. The homework in front of you was long forgotten as you focused your attention mainly on Jamil— much to his confusion.

“Do… Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day?” You cautiously asked, looking at him intently.

He furrowed his brows at the question, thinking it over. “Kalim will most definitely want to throw a party for the occasion. I'll be in charge of the decorations, cooking, and— well, everything as per usual.”

Jamil answered truthfully, not seeing much of a reason not to. Yet, he felt like he answered wrong as his eyes met your deflated gaze.

“Got it… Yeah, that makes sense…”

Before he could invite you to the party— you’re one of the only people he’d happily cook for— you messily started scouring through your bag.

He observed you curiously, mentally noting that he should help you clean out your backpack sometime. I mean, the amount of loose papers you have in there is absurd—

“Here.”

His mind goes quiet as you pull out a small, heart-shaped box and slide it toward him. Jamil looks at you like you are crazy, making you chuckle.

“I was hoping to give it to you on Valentine's Day, if you're busy then, I’d rather do it now and save you the trouble.” How thoughtful of you… His shock was transparent as he struggled to form words.

You didn't know whether or not to take that positively or negatively.

“Uhh—” It was awkward, the air was tense as you swiftly stood up. You flashed him a nervous smile. “I should go check up on Grim… Good seeing you?”

Jamil had never felt more scatterbrained. So many thoughts racing at once. Yet so little came out of his mouth.

“Good seeing you too, Prefect.”

He never did invite you, did he?

Jamil sighs at his ridiculousness. In the back of his mind, he tried to justify it.

The party wouldn't be ideal for you to come to anyway, he’d be working the majority of the time. He doubts you’d enjoy yourself. It might be awkward for you to even come after that exchange.

However, deep down, he knew he should've said something. Anything. Instead, he just let you leave with unsure thoughts.

Jamil didn't want to leave this be. He wanted to make it right. But with so little time, he was stuck.

Valentines arrived unreasonably fast, causing him to frown. The students of Scarabia could sense something was wrong, but no one had the guts. Well, no one except…

“Jamil? Are you mad?” Kalim innocently asked.

Although you made Jamil talk out a lot of his issues with Kalim, the white-haired boy’s voice still irked him to his soul.

“No. What makes you say that?” The Viper responded, keeping his tone neutral and calm.

Nonetheless, Kalim squinted at him with a pout.

“Is this about the Prefect?”

He nearly choked on his spit. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you guys like each other, right? Did you fight over something? Aww, I’m sorry if an argument broke out right before Valentine's.”

Jamil shook his head with an annoyed scoff, giving Kalim an unamused look.

“No, what—? Rewind. What makes you think we like each other?”

Kalim tilted his head like a lost puppy. It only served to frustrate Jamil further.

“Is it not obvious? You’re way happier around them than anyone else!”

Not that anyone pointed it out, but Jamil would undoubtedly deny the way his cheeks heated up at that statement.

“We’re not seeing each other romantically. Neither do we think of one another that way…”

He regretted letting his sentence trail and thinking aloud. Whenever it came to you, he was much less organized than he liked.

“…Well, sort of.” Although he merely mumbled these three words, that was all it took for Kalim to spring up ecstatically.

“Oh! So you like them but you haven't confessed? You can do it at today's party! I’ll invite them right now!” “What! No— Kalim, slow down!”

Jamil had to physically grab the other hot by his shoulders to keep him from bouncing away.

“I'm not ‘confessing’ at this party today, or any time soon.”

That lost puppy looked returned to Kalim’s face. Although he had seen it a few minutes ago, it still pissed him off all the same.

“Why not?”

Because he didn't know how to; plain and simple. Jamil for sure didn't want to have his ‘confession’ be too big. He’d hate for himself to come off as ingenuine to you.

Not to mention, Kalim and his antics have more or less ruined any big, dramatic gestures for him. Jamil can't help but find them corny and tacky now.

However, he didn't want to do something too small. A simple note won’t cut it for him. You deserve more. What exactly that entailed, he didn't know.

“Because I don’t want to.” Jamil unenthusiastically answered. He cut off Kalim before he could speak up. “No more questions.”

Not wanting to entertain this conversation any longer, Jamil walked away. Right. He had other, more pressing matters to worry about. Party preparations.

Food, decorations, music, lighting…

Damn it, why won’t you leave his mind?

The party, thankfully, went smoothly. Guests were enjoying themselves, there was enough food for everyone, and Kalim was too distracted by a few people to bother him. Letting out a relieved sigh, Jamil leaned against the wall behind him. His eyes wandered around as he started people-watching.

It was important to stay alert when it came to the people at these parties. He had to make sure no one had harmful intentions towards the young Al Asim. Though, as he should've expected, there were many couples here tonight.

Seems like a lot of Scarabian students brought their off-campus lovers here. Jamil can only hope Crowley doesn't chastise them too harshly for doing so.

He perks up as a slow song plays over the party. The lights are adjusted to dim and soon enough, practically everyone was on the dance floor. Couples, friends, strangers, talking stages— you name it.

It’s no surprise Jamil seemed drawn to the dance aspect of this part of the night. Even if he tried to hide it at times, his passion for the art of dancing always had its way of shining through. He glanced through the crowd to see if there was anyone without a partner.

Thankfully for him, it wasn't too hard to spot someone. These types of parties were always bound to have a few wallflowers. As he made his way through the crowd toward the one he had his eye on, he couldn't help but hear a couple of voices over the music.

“Ace, you little—!” That was all Jamil could make out before he felt a person suddenly collide with him. It didn't hurt or anything, and Jamil had enough sense to gauge it was most likely a mistake—

“Uh, hi.”

He didn't expect to turn around and be met with the sight of you. An embarrassed look sat upon your face as you fidgeted with the ends of your clothes.

“Hey.” Jamil curtly replied.

You gave him that stupid little smile of yours that made his heart race. A hopeful hum left your lips.

“Are you busy?”

He couldn't help but chuckle in response, giving his genuine answer.

“Nope.” He stuck his hand out, pretending that his mind wasn't going fuzzy from being in your presence. “May I have this dance?”

He felt you place your hand on top of his.

“Of course.”

With your permission, he let one hand fall to your waist as he gently guided you in a waltz-like manner. He was more experienced than you, precisely moving as the two of you dance.

You couldn't help but feel endeared. Jamil was pretty from close up. Unfortunately— or fortunately— he caught you staring. He gave you an amused look in response.

However, he didn't expect you to abruptly frown and glance away.

‘You couldn't get your hopes up,’ Your mind reminded you, recalling his reaction to your gift. It was for the better you don't get too attached.

Jamil seemed disheartened by the disconnect. His hand on your waist lightly tightened. Shortly after, a mischievous grin found its way on his face.

Suddenly, Jamil’s movement quickened. You gave him a confused raise of the brow.

“Jamil—?”

He doesn't give you time to finish your thought as he spins you, swiftly catching you in his arms afterward. Taken by surprise, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

You've never seen Jamil look more proud of himself as he gave you that smug little smile of his. He barely gave you time to react before he was moving the two of you again.

What you didn't expect was for him to dip you so, so low. Instinctively, you squealed. Your arms clung onto him for dear life.

“Jamil—!”

He let out a laugh at your reaction. “What? It's not like I’m going to drop you or anything.”

Your grip tightened after hearing those words. “Great sevens— you better not drop me!”

He playfully rolled his eyes. Jamil leaned in closer, his voice taking a lower tone as he whispered, “You trust me, Prefect, don’t you?”

You didn't respond to that, instead letting your small glance to the side paired with an embarrassed expression speak for itself.

In the next few steps, he taught you some more advanced footwork. He couldn't help but admire the way you’d smile as you caught onto it quickly. Jamil then spun you once more, this time it was less abrupt.

Prepared, you were able to smoothly go along with it. The boy let out an impressed hum, giving you a satisfied look. His eyes practically told you what he had planned next. Another dip.

The dip was more nerve-wracking than the spin. However, Jamil didn't intend to dip you as low as he did before— thankfully.

Your hold on him still tightened like it did before as he dipped you. Unlike before, Jamil let the pose and moment linger.

You’d gaze up at him, admiring the determined glint in his eyes. The way his hair naturally fell, framing his face, was just the cherry on top.

Oh, and how could you forget those breathtaking lips of his...

His thoughts were eerily similar to yours, taking in your features before letting his eyes roam over your lips. Jamil leaned closer, bringing his face mere inches from yours.

You swung your arms around his neck, making it easier for him to get closer… and closer… and…

Just as the two of you closed your eyes, about to connect, you hear the slow music turn to an upbeat, party song. Next thing you know, you felt your body swiftly being pulled up.

One moment, you and Jamil were so close, the next he was acting as though you were toxic. His hands left your hips as he cleared his throat.

It looked like he was planning on saying something before a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

“Jamil! Come dance with me!” The two of you both heard the young Al Asim shout.

You frowned. Right. He’s busy tonight with duties and whatnot. Although you felt disappointed, you gave him a tired smile and nod.

Jamil’s brows were furrowed, his eyes flickering between you and the direction Kalim’s voice came from.

Tonight seemed full of surprises as Jamil’d hand shoots out to your forearm and hurriedly guided you outside in the opposite direction of Kalim.

You were in shock as he pulled you outside, shutting the door behind him with a sigh.

“…You’re not gonna—?” “If anyone asks, you were nauseous from dancing and went outside with me for fresh air.”

Jamil was dead serious as he spoke, looking at you for confirmation. You nodded your head.

“Uh, got it.”

Silence soon filled the atmosphere between the two of you, the only sound being from the night’s wind. It was oddly tense. You were the first one to break the quiet.

“I’m sorry.” Jamil’s gaze immediately snapped up to yours, narrowing in confusion.

“Sorry?” He repeated, looking for clarification.

You fidgeted with the ends of your clothes. “Sorry for the chocolates. That was probably uncomfortable for you since that kinda gift is usually reserved for couples and all…”

Jamil’s expression softened the more you talked.

“Don’t be. It was a lovely gift.” His hands slowly make their way to yours, gently holding you.

“I reacted the way I did because…” Jamil sucked in a hesitant breath. “…Well, you’ve made me feel things. Feelings that I thought I was incapable of feeling.”

He carefully pulled you closer to him, allowing you to back away if you wanted to. You didn't. You just stared back into his gaze as he continued.

“Around you, I feel unburdened by my responsibilities. I feel… alive.” If you maneuvered your hand right, you could feel his pulse practically beating out of his body.

“I adore you like no other. When I received those chocolates, my mind melted. You… you turn me into such a mess.” He lightly scoffed with a small shake of the head. You can't help but chuckle.

“Nonetheless,” He gave your hands a gentle squeeze. You squeezed back.

“I’d never wish this feeling away. Never in a million years.”

Jamil’s hands momentarily left yours as he fiddled with his jacket. He was looking for something…?

“Although it’s long overdue,”

After a few moments, Jamil pulls out a small, red rose. You recognize it as a part of the decor from the party. He slips it into your hand effortlessly, his eyes staying on yours.

“Will you be my Valentine?”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twst x yuu #twst x you #twst fanfic #twst wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper x yuu #jamil x you #jamil x yuu #valentines day fic

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thedemonscrawler · 2 days ago

Text

ITS BEEN 84 YEARS BUT HEY FINAL PART

There is no gradual change from isn't to is.

No slow return to awareness, an impossible dream flaking away like dust in the face of reality– just being, and the fading horror that a moment ago, he wasn't.

“--thought you said he wasn't in bad shape?!”

“I said he was in bad shape, he just wasn't dying! Look, just shut up and grab–”

Everything hurts.

He's damaged, processor struggling under the weight of countless errors, threatening to tip him over into a much more tangible state of unresponsiveness. There's a high keening sound that vibrates in his battered chest, resonates with his burning throat.

“--you got the–”

“--es, now move, before–”

Voices. An echo playing against itself, back and forth. Twins, perhaps? But none of the twins he knows sound alike, not like this, and it muddles his understanding even further.

Hands force themselves under his broken body, scraping against the cold surface underneath, and–

–and this already happened, didn’t it? How did it turn out the first time?

He can’t remember. Everything hurts, and there’s a dark, sucking hole where his memory should be, oozing unease and tension. The keening cuts off, replaced by a staccato burst of static. He should twist away, he should escape, except his limbs won’t cooperate and his chest is full of smothering heat and–

-and there are arms around him. Holding him close to a chest in shades of light and dark. Something brushes the fractured remains of his rays, and from the shape of it, he thinks it might be another disk-shaped head tucking over his own.

Quiet muttering, and he stills just to be able to hear it better, because he’s certain there was something novel in that rasping voice. Following the sounds up and down, until a few resolve themselves into words.

“‘m sorry.”

The hands holding him tighten their grip ever so slightly, because I’m sorry and you’re safe this time and I promise. Concepts that flit through his shattered mind, leaving impressions more than meaning… yet gradually, the tension eases from his frame, bleeding away drop by drop.

He remembers safety, and warmth. The sting of betrayal fades under awkward apologies, leaving behind no more than a dull ache. He cannot remember what happened, but he knows that he was somewhere else, and this hold means that he was found. Brought home.

Home?

Jarring movements cease. Behind a haze of overexposed static he is aware of movement, shadows and sounds. Something touches his arm, the fragmented casing barely registering the pressure.

“Hey there, buddy. You remember me, right?”

A person, probably; casing split between light and dark, a crest of pale rays. He cannot tell any more than that, and trying to look makes his head hurt worse.

“--’s okay. We're gonna fix you up, so just–”

It hurts. Focusing, thinking, being. The arms cradling his body are keeping him safe, but they cannot keep the hurt at bay, and his meager energy is steadily depleting.

“--shutting down.”

“I mean, can you blame–”

Darkness and static stillness eat away at him. The temporary death visited upon a machine, systems going offline as they ran out of power, leaving the body at the complete mercy of whoever might deign to turn it back on. A risk he’s only rarely taken in his long life, yet this time there’s no choice in it.

Does he want to wake up? Does he want to be?

The head tucked over his own presses closer, rasped words barely audible over his own systems. He misses most of them, but the sense of It’s okay sinks in past the static.

Safety. Warmth.

Everything stops.

—

“We need to have a serious talk about what you consider ‘catastrophic damage’.”

“Look, I’m a programmer, not an engineer.”

“No, you’re a mess built out of scavenged arcade machines. I think your judgment is a little skewed.”

Eclipse swipes at the oil-stained rag that impacts his crescent face, balling it up and tossing it back at Solar. It goes wide and hits the floor instead, prompting a snort from the other mech.

“Judgment and depth perception. I’ve seen old ladies make better throws than that.”

Eclipse rolls his eyes and turns his attention to the frame laid out in the chair. The harsh light of the repair cylinder exposes every bit of damage, and as much as he hates to admit it, Solar might have a point. Still…

“I was right, though.” A black and crimson hand reaches out to gently rest on the shattered chest casing, feeling the slight vibration of repaired fans.

And Solar just shakes his head, dim eyes flickering briefly. Mild humor laces his tired voice. “Yeah, you were right. Kinda wish you’d remembered anyway, though. Could have saved me a lot of stress.”

“You actually did it.”

The low, breathless voice has Eclipse looking over his shoulder, where Moon stands in the doorway to the cylinder. Unease prickles up and down Eclipse’s metal spine.

It was fine, it wasn’t like they’d kept this a secret, they hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I am a miracle worker, you know,” he replies with forced nonchalance. Moon doesn’t seem to hear him. All of the lunar animatronic’s attention is on the figure stretched out in the chair, and only when Eclipse steps forward to break his line of sight does he finally look up.

“It’s too late to do anything about it,” adds Solar. Eclipse doesn’t miss the way Moon winces, how his gaze slides away like his best friend is made of butter.

“I wasn’t–! I won’t…” Moon sighs and shakes his head. “The Computer picked up a massive spike in magic, so I was just checking to see how you guys were doing. That’s all. I didn’t expect you to be… done?”

“Well, he’s gotten the patch job, but I wouldn’t call things ‘done’.” Quite as if he doesn’t notice the thick, awkward atmosphere, Solar walks around the chair, to the cart loaded down with recently removed parts. “We focused on getting the essentials going, rather than anything cosmetic, so that’s why he still looks like a mess. As soon as his battery is charged enough we’re going to wake him up and see how he’s doing mentally.”

“You should stick around, say hello.” It’s petty, and rude, but Eclipse is too tired to fight off the impulse to sink nonfunctioning teeth into an obvious weakness. “He might not remember what happened.”

Moon stiffens at Eclipse’s tone, but a brief glance at the figure in the chair has his shoulders slumping. “No, that’s…that’s alright. I think I’ll head back upstairs and tell everyone that they should expect to see him around soon.” Deliberately not looking at any Eclipse, Moon turns on his heel.

“Moon?”

The lunar animatronic freezes. One eye peeps back over his shoulder, just enough to look at Solar. “Yeah?”

“You’re going to have to face this eventually.” Solar’s voice is flat, with a rarely-heard edge that makes Moon flinch. Without another word he slinks off, shoulders bowed under Solar’s golden gaze.

Quiet fills the vacuum left behind by Moon’s departure, until Eclipse breaks it with an almost normal tone of voice. “You know, I thought I’d enjoy the drama a little more.”

Solar barks out a laugh. “Maybe you’re going through some character growth– or you’ve got a virus. Actually, nevermind, it’s probably that. I can scan you after we wake him up, if you want.”

There isn't another rag to throw, so Eclipse settles for making a Daycare-inappropriate gesture, which Solar returns with interest.

“Let's just get this over with, before anyone else shows up.” His usual drawl neatly covers up the uneasy feeling crawling through his circuits as Eclipse glances at the door, then down at the chair. It was beyond too late for questions or doubts– the only thing left was to face the consequences.

Solar flicks his fingers in a little salute and approaches the prone form. He does something around its head, and Eclipse finds himself holding his ‘breath’ as recently replaced fans start up, rattling in their housings and nearly covering the whine of a processor. Red and blue optics flicker before coming fully online, their dim glow pointed at the ceiling.

The tangled knot of guilt and shame that had lived in his circuits for the past couple of months loosens, all at once. Without really thinking about it, he waves a crimson-tipped hand. “Hey.”

A long moment of silence, broken by uncertain chirps from Ruin’s barely functional vocalizer. “H-hello.”

“...alright, enough with the riveting banter.” Solar waves off Eclipse’s offended snarl, stepping up to the foot of the chair. Ruin regards him with the same blank uncertainty that he’d shown the ceiling, even when Solar offers a hand to pull him up to a more upright position. “There we go. Hey, you’re with us, right?”

More silence, and Eclipse can see the same worry beginning to creep through his wires reflected in Solar’s copper rays angling back. Before either of them can get too worked up, there’s another little static sound, and Ruin accepts the offered hand.

“I– yes, I believe that I am.” His endoskeleton creaks as he moves, bits of casing joining what already litters the floor. “Or perhaps I’m not, and it is you who are with me? Because– and do correct me if I’m wrong– you’re dead, Solar.”

“Yeah, funny how that kind of thing doesn’t stick around here.”

“I-I see.” Red and blue optics drop to skeletal hands. “Yes, I do remember now. Moon had a plan, of sorts, didn’t he? A life for a life.” Those hands clench into tight fists, joints squealing softly.

Eclipse’s own claws bite into his palms as the shame begins creeping up on him again. “Yeah.”

“There was a cell, and then there was a different cell, and that twisted imitation of an animatronic. And then…” the words break into more static, the rough idea of a laugh. “Moon got what he wanted. I don’t begrudge him, you know. It makes perfect sense. What does not, however, is this.”

He looks up at Eclipse, bewildered and lost. “Why am I alive?”

Eclipse had been expecting the question, because it’s the same one he’d been asking himself for months. All through the search for a way to alter a dimensional signature, scouring the computers to find an imprint of Ruin’s code, dealing with awkward questions and cold looks from the others.

Why go through the trouble of bringing back Ruin, of all people? Who would want to see the amalgamate AI alive again?

(The fleeting impression of trust, of safety found in undeserving arms. He was familiar with betrayal, but this time… this time it hadn’t been on purpose.)

Eclipse is the only one that can answer, in his own way. With a sneer and a snarl, golden rays pinning back.

“You brought me back from the dead. Twice, actually.” He crosses his arms and looks down at Ruin. “Do you really think I'd let you get out of dealing with all of this crap? Nuh-uh, nope– if I have to be alive, so do you.”

Mismatched eyes flicker briefly, searching Eclipse’s fixed expression for something. Falsehood, a trick. When nothing is found, soft static chirps begin sounding from the damaged bot’s chest, resolving themselves into hiccuping sobs as Ruin drops his face into his hands.

“Of– of course!” He forces out. “Of course, t-that…yes, t-that’s fair. That’s fair.”

Eclipse’s stiff pose loosens slightly, and after a warning glance at Solar to not say anything, he sits down on the edge of the chair. Immediately there are damaged arms wrapping around his torso, a shattered face pressed into his chest.

Eclipse ignores the thin scratches being carved into his paint, the few bits of loose casing falling away from a broken body. He rests his hand on Ruin’s back, moving it in tiny circles. If his voice is unusually quiet, threatening to crack in the middle, he ignores that, too.

“You’re okay now. You’re home.”

Lil gift for @thedemonscrawler inspired by their sams fic Beggars Can't be Choosers (butters i'm dying /pos)

(Speedpaint under cut)

youtube

#fanfic #83c

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stellewriites · 2 days ago

Text

Part 5 - John Price x reader

Masterlist

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife's wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, smut - fingering, oral (f!receiving), riding/frotting, John's genitals are referred to as cock.

You’d been screening John’s calls and leaving his texts unread for the last fortnight, feeling worse and worse for it and not knowing exactly why you were doing it.

Each notification had your heart pumping in excitement for the possibility of him still reaching out despite your silence, and then thumping too hard in immediate anxiety and guilt.

“Stop moping and text him,” Kate said to you finally. She’d been watching you check your phone routinely throughout brunch and had noticed how you were only half focused in their conversations and slow to engage. You’d laugh a second later than the others and had forgotten what you’d ordered when it had arrived at the table.

“I’m not ready for dating.” You shrugged her off, looking back down at your phone.

She huffed and sent you a disbelieving look. Your other two friends currently present, Cass and Paige, paused their conversation to look at you doubtfully too.

“I’ve not seen you as happy as you had been recently when you were hanging out with him,” Kate said and the other two agreed. “I know this isn’t a confidence thing either. He said he liked you, and you clearly liked him.”

“Katie,” you said warningly.

“She’s not wrong,” Paige said and took a sip of her drink.

“I mean, hell, if you’re really set on not dating, then don’t! That’s fine, but text the guy back for god’s sake and hang out again. Or put him out of his misery.” She bit a large chunk out of her avocado toast as you slumped in your chair.

“He’s still trying, right? That’s what you were worried about?” Cass said, hitting the nail on the head.

Guiltily you looked down at the unanswered messages under John’s contact. It stung to realise that maybe John had been genuine that night and you’d turned him down so bluntly.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and typed up your reply, sending it before you could talk yourself out of it.

>> hi john sorry for the distance, i’ve been figuring some stuff out. make it up to you over coffee if you’re free later?

He didn’t leave you waiting anxiously for long, replying immediately with an affirmative.

“What did he say?” Paige asked.

“We’re meeting up later,” you said a little bashfully. “He said he’s looking forward to seeing me.”

Kate smiled knowingly. “Yeah, I bet.”

You elbowed her lightly and put your phone away. It was easier to settle back into the conversation with the group, easier to concentrate, with your chest not feeling so tight.

——

“Hey,” you greeted him softly inside the coffee shop later that day. He’d arrived early again.

You felt almost more awkward now than you had when meeting him for the first time.

“How have you been, Sunshine?” He asked as you took your seat.

“Good. Fine. Yeah.” You nodded before you shook it. “I wanted to apologise, John. For a lot of things but—“

“No need, Sunshine, honestly,” he waved you off gruffly, leaning forward in his seat as you shrank back in yours. “I’m just glad you’re happy to see me now.”

“I am,” you confirmed with a shy smile, sat opposite him and growing more relaxed at the pleased twitch of his moustache.

“So what’s been new?” He asked again.

You snorted. “It’s only been a couple of weeks since we last saw each other,” you said.

He blushed, the pink flush half hidden behind the beard he was growing back out.

“Guess I got used to all the updates throughout the day quicker than I’d realised.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before looking to the counter and sitting up straighter. “Do you want anything? My treat.”

Your smile had dropped at the reminder of how you’d skipped out of his life so suddenly; even though you didn’t owe him anything, you had grown to be friends before the wedding and you know you’d have been hurt if it was the other way around.

“Yeah, just an iced latte please,” you said before stopping him from standing. “Hey, I said I was making it up to you. I should be paying.”

He huffed a laugh. “Not likely. You’re making it up to me by sticking around, Sunshine. You didn’t have to come at all.”

“John…”

“One iced latte coming up,” he said and stood. “God knows why, they taste more of sugar than coffee.”

“That’s exactly why,” you huffed a hesitant laugh as he headed to the counter. When he came back a minute later and sat down with the drinks you took a sip before speaking. “To answer your question, work has been the same old, but I’m thinking of maybe getting a pet? Tied between a cat and a rabbit at the moment. If it’s a rabbit, I’ll need to sort the garden though, it’s little bit overgrown right now.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise and he put his tea down. “You got the tools for it?”

“I think my neighbour has a lawnmower and my mum probably has a pair of shears I could borrow for the hedges,” you hummed. It had only been a half thought semi-recently, so you’d not put much planning into the idea yet, just the start of a pinterest board of cute ideas.

“I could help,” he offered, a touch too casual. “If you wanted. I’ve got a lawnmower I don’t get to use too often and some time off before I have to head back to work.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said with a gentle smile.

He nodded.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Same old,” he said vaguely, repeating your own words back at you. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “I am having to go back to work properly soon though.”

You tilted your head, confused at his drab tone, certain as you were that you’d messaged once or twice when he was at work, stuck doing paperwork or in a meeting before the wedding.

“I’ll be heading overseas,” he clarified. “Might not be contactable for a few weeks at a time. Just didn’t want you to think…”

“That you were ignoring me to get back at me for the fact that I ghosted you?” You guessed when he trailed off. John nodded sheepishly.

“Fuck, I’m glad I’ve gotten to see you before I go,” he said quietly, just looking at you.

“Me too,” you agreed. Impulsively, you finished off your drink and made a quick decision. “Do you want to come back to mine for dinner? I’ll cook.”

John grinned brightly. “I’d love that.”

——

You busied yourself in the kitchen when you got back home with him, missing his chuffed smirk when he saw your door was still in working order with no sign of it dragging on the doorstep.

You didn’t miss his hum when he joined you in the kitchen a moment later.

“That shelf meant to be on a slant?” He asked, eyes shrewd as he looked at your collection of herbs and spices.

“Oh, no but I’ve just never found time to fix it. And it’s not fallen down yet, so it’s not even made an appearance on my Urgent List.” You shrugged.

He hummed again and headed back to the front door. “I’ve got my tool box with me, I’ll sort it now for you.”

“No, John, you don’t have to,” you called after him, but he was already out of the door. You didn’t know that he’d kept his toolbox in his truck ever since he was first here just in case you messaged again needing anything sorted, and now he was glad his foresight was paying off.

The shelf was sorted quicker than the kettle boiled and you swatted at him to go relax once he’d cleaned up after himself. He placatingly held his hands up in mock surrender and went to wash up in the bathroom while you rinsed some veg under the kitchen tap.

You were given ten minutes of peace before you started to wonder where he’d gone and left the pasta in the pan boiling and the sauce on a low heat to find him. You weren’t afraid to chew him out if he was snooping, but instead you found him hunched over the sink in the bathroom.

“Taps were finicky,” he said before you’d had chance to ask him what he was doing. When he’d had chance to grab his tools from the kitchen without you noticing you didn’t know, but you couldn’t help but snicker as he frowned down at the old taps.

“Don’t do well sitting still, do you, John?”

He shrugged. “Figured I might as well since I’m here,” he said instead.

You snorted. “Come help me with the sauce once you’re done here then.”

You stifled a laugh when you heard him swear through the open door before the sound of a running tap turned on and off a few times. He came back through to the kitchen a little later with a satisfied smile and you did your best to concentrate on cooking instead.

You smiled at him when he settled in next to you to take over stirring the sauce, leaving you free to set the table. You felt a pang of domesticity, it was all so easy with John.

You plated it up and sat down together. Eating dinner with him was just as easy, the awkwardness you’d felt walking into the cafe forgotten about completely as conversation flowed naturally between the two of you. Though you did have to fend the man off from planning to go out in the morning to get the wood to build you either a hutch for a potential rabbit or put up climbing shelves if you decided on a cat instead; he’d figured you’d be able to decide by time you’d finished the pasta.

“Best meal I’ve had in a while,” he sighed happily when he finished off the pasta. “Stunning.”

“Thanks, John,” you said bashfully. When you stood to take the dishes he moved quicker and grabbed the plate from your hands. You didn’t bother complaining, knowing how stubborn the man was already; instead you joined him and put the dishes away once he’d cleaned them, smiling to yourself as the pair of you worked in comfortable silence.

When all was put away and your kitchen was back to normal - now with a sturdier shelf - he smiled and headed for the door reluctantly with his toolbox in hand.

“Thanks for today, Sunshine,” he said softly and, after a brief moment of deliberation, he leant in to kiss your cheek. “Talk to you later?”

You nodded happily and closed the door behind him.

When you laid in bed later that night you couldn’t stop thinking about the gentle, chaste kiss. The only real one you’d shared so far.

——

You only got a week with John before he disappeared. He’d made you promise to keep him updated like you would normally so he could catch up when he got back again, but you tried not to overwhelm his notifications; sticking to a couple of texts every few days instead of the daily messages you’d quickly fallen back into.

If he wanted more you were sure he’d let you know and if he only skim read the mountain of messages and photos you’d still managed to send then you’d ease up next time.

He said he would be gone a month, tops, but you didn’t hear from him for two. You tried not to worry, his job wasn’t an exact science, but that fact could make you more anxious depending on the day.

It was a random Wednesday evening when you got a knock on your front door and your heart suddenly plummeted.

You walked to the door with shaking hands. The repercussions of John’s work had never fully occurred to you until this moment, or at least you’d done your best not to linger on it for too long. But now visions of the person on the other side of your door being someone in an official uniform, waiting to let you know weeks too late that John had—

John had shown up to your house unexpectedly.

“Sunshine.” He smiled.

Clearly tired, he stood on your doorstep with his hair damp and curling at the ends, his beard overgrown and his work gear still on, though a big bag was hooked over his shoulder. His smile never wavered, relieved when you answered the door.

“John?” You stepped to the side to let him in without a second thought and he trailed a heavy hand appreciatively down your arm.

“Cleaned up a little at base, but I haven’t stopped driving home since. I’ve had you on my mind as soon as we were wheels down,” he admitted with soft eyes.

You didn’t question his use of the term ‘home’ when referring to driving to yours after spending months in another country and you certainly weren’t going to think about how it made you feel.

“You should’ve gone back to yours to sleep, or at least dropped off your things,” you berated him half-heartedly. “We could’ve caught up when you weren’t running on— what? Four hours of sleep?”

“Knew you’d be my first stop.” He’d dropped his bag by the front door, his daft hat dropped on top, and was slumping onto your couch with a heavy sigh. “Should’ve left my shit at base maybe. Just didn’t want to have to drive back tomorrow.”

“Have you eaten?” At his slight shake of the head, you moved to the kitchen and started pulling something together, leaving him to relax. You knew he must be tired by how he wasn’t following after you, and your suspicions were confirmed when you came back with a thick sandwich, the last slice of a quiche you’d made earlier in the week and some picky bits from your fridge to find him asleep. You cringed at the lacklustre dinner, but you hadn’t been expecting guests and you were going grocery shopping tomorrow, so you placed it on the coffee table and sat down carefully next to him so he didn’t wake.

Turning down the volume on the TV, you let him nap as you watched a few episodes of your latest favourite. You couldn’t help but let your eyes dart over to him every so often to check on him, giggling when you noticed his mouth had dropped open during his well deserved catnap.

You paused your show when he grumbled and wiped a slow hand over his face a few hours later.

“Hello, sleepyhead. Hungry?”

“Starving,” he groaned croakily.

“Best I could do on short notice,” you said and handed him the plate. You watched like a big cat documentarian as he tore through the food with an unholy passion, finished in minutes. You silently handed him your water and he chugged it back with a loud ‘ahh’ after.

“Lovely as ever,” he said sleepily before nodding back off. You stifled a laugh and stood to grab him an extra pillow and blanket. It was clear he wouldn’t be driving home tonight, so you thought you might as well let him get comfy and crash on the couch for the night.

A brief thought crossed your mind of waking John and letting him share your bed; you’d done it for the wedding after all, and it wouldn’t have to mean anything.

You shook your head and draped the blanket over him. You knew it would mean something and you weren’t ready to make that step yet as much as you wanted it.

——

You woke in the morning to John using your shower and you smiled at him with raised ‘brows when he came back out dressed in more familiar civ clothes. You looked for the bag at the front door but couldn’t see it.

“Staying for breakfast or heading home?”

“Heading home, sadly. But I’ll call you later, yeah? I want to catch up properly,” he said. “Thanks for letting me stay, Sunshine.”

“Of course,” you said genuinely and in between bites of your cereal. “It was a nice surprise.”

He hummed and leant in to kiss your temple with a warm hand cradling the back of your neck. You tried desperately not to push into him and to ignore the thoughts of how he smelt like you out of your head; how if anyone tried to flirt with him on his way home they’d smell your strawberry shampoo and very berry body wash. How your spring air scented febreeze spray had sunk into his jacket from the couch through the night.

Your subtle mark was all over him and neither of you seemed to mind.

“Call me when you get home, John.”

He hummed, lingered for a moment more, then headed out with his bag in tow.

——

The bar was loud and your friends were still wide awake and partying strong, celebrating the news of Paige’s well earned promotion. You, however, were flagging.

It was late, and the prospect of staying out any later was making holding back a yawn nigh impossible. You’d never been a big drinker so you’d not been keeping pace with the others, a possible mistake since you seemed to lack the same energy as them, found firmly in their second wind. The last thing you wanted to do was bail but you didn’t want to bring the mood just down hanging around either.

Your phone buzzed and you smiled when you saw it was john.

>> Still awake?

<< for once yeah :p

>> What show has you gripped to binge watch late into the night this time?

You snorted.

<< out celebrating with friends, paige got promoted!!!

>> Tell her congratulations from me

>> What time does the party end?

<< idk but i’m ready for bed already 😪

<< taxi isn’t booked for another couple of hours tho :(

John’s speech bubble appeared and disappeared a few times and you watched the screen avidly.

>> Do you want me to come meet you to walk you home?

<< really??

<< would you mind? it’s late and a little cold so you don’t have to!

>> Send me the address and I’ll set off now

<< thanks john ❤️

Either John lived close or he’d ran there, as you’d only just finished telling your friends that you were leaving early when John turned up.

“You shouldn’t leave on your own, walking home at this time of night is dangerous,” Cass said worriedly, her words slurring slightly.

“I’m not, John’s meeting me to walk me home,” you said and flushed when they all cheered and whistled at the mention of his name; their catcalls gained volume and enthusiasm when John walked through the bar door a second later, head on a swivel as he looked for you in the crowd.

“Fuck off,” you hissed at your friends playfully and hugged them all goodbye before you headed over to John. He was grinning and waved happily over to your friends, nudging you when he saw the embarrassed scrunch of your shoulders.

“Good night?” He asked once you were on the path outside.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “She deserved the raise like three years ago, but at least they’re finally recognising all the work she does.”

John nodded along. He cursed a moment later when he felt a few raindrops. You both looked up at the gentle patter and gasped when it quickly turned torrential.

Your walk turned into a run as John grabbed your hand tightly and led you a little shop alcove near by, shoving you under and crowding in after you.

“Shit, I should’ve driven,” he blamed himself, looking at your soggy jacket and the rain that had splattered your round cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it, John,” you waved it off. “Bit of rain never hurt anyone.”

The pair of you were pressed close, his broad shoulders and your wide hips taking up the space in the doorway enough that you were both holding your breath in each other’s space.

“Just my luck really,” you said.

“It’s just British weather,” John corrected. “Don’t know why I wasn’t expecting it to rain in the middle of summer,” he joked.

You laughed and felt butterflies flutter at his mirrored rumble, focused on where your stomach pressed against his. You no longer felt tired stood with him.

It went quiet, with just the soft rain and the sound of the odd car passing by the only things heard for a moment as you both held your breath, eyes locked.

You leant forward those last few inches and pressed your lips against his. Your noses bumped and you automatically lifted a hand to tilt his chin slightly to adjust, pressing your lips a little firmer when he followed your guiding hold. His hands on your hips were reverent as he let you lead.

You delighted in the scratch of his beard for a split second before suddenly flinching back, your hand becoming firm against his shoulder to keep him from following.

“Fuck,” you swore shakily. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he huffed with a confused smile.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you insisted. You felt him lean towards you and firmed the stretch of your arm to keep him in place as best you could in the small space. “It’s mixed messages. It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m still waiting,” he admitted. “I’ll wait however long y’need, Sunshine.”

You ducked your head.

“I feel guilty,” you whispered. You swallowed thickly as the reasons were finally voiced even as you avoided his eyes. “I feel like it’s Charlotte all over again for you; I’m stringing you along when you could be finding someone else. I’m— it’s not fair,” you repeated.

He leant back in shock, a frown pulling at his brows and his mouth moving silently for a moment. John looked down at you from his tucked in chin and considered your comparison, knowing the quick denial on the tip of his tongue wouldn’t soothe you.

“Have you decided that then? You don’t want to be with me?” He asked finally.

You hesitated, unable to lie and say no, and he latched onto that with a fierce hold.

You thought back to what your friends had said, the fun you’d been having with him again, how natural it all was.

“Sunshine…”

“We could take it slow?” You asked.

“Of course,” he agreed readily, pushing those few inches closer to you in eagerness. “Slow and steady, whatever you need.”

“Ok.” You nodded.

“Ok?”

“I like you, John,” you admitted almost shyly, smiling up at him. “I want to try.”

In the next breath he ducked close to kiss you again.

You were pressed against the damp, grainy wall of the little alcove as he greedily slipped a hand beneath your shirt and hungrily kissed you, not stopping for a breath or a gasp now that you’d given the go ahead.

“W-what— happened t-to,” you gasped as he filled your space and every thought. The patter of the rain going unheard as his shaky breaths filled your ears and echoed torturously. “Take— taking it s-slow?”

He sucked on your lip before pulling back and panting, swapping breaths with you. “I’m not down on one knee, am I?” He asked as though you were being obtuse.

You snorted, eyes wide in disbelief. But you didn’t push him away, instead your grip kept him close.

He dipped in for another peck and you cupped his bearded cheeks.

“My house isn’t far from here,” you suggested softly. Testing the waters.

In a flash John was dragging you out of the alcove and down the street with you laughing as you splashed through the puddles to keep up with his determined pace.

“Wrong way, John,” you laughed and tugged at his arm, directing him the to follow you and head the other way towards your house. He crowded against your back, slightly off to the side, and you felt butterflies erupt at the sound of his low chuckle as your steps overlapped and you tripped each other in eagerness.

——

Once you were safely inside your home, it didn’t take long for you to get naked and climb on the bed. You dragged John along with you, clad still in his boxers.

He hovered over you as you laid back flat, his broad palms running from your ribs to your flank soothingly as he settled between your thick thighs.

His eyes were all black, the usual greyblue just a thin strip around the edges as he took you in in all your glory.

The need to make you keen and cream on his fingers was obvious by his hungry expression and the flexing of his hold on your softest parts.

“Been wanting this for too long, Sunshine,” he whispered. “Longer than you know.”

“Think I can guess,” you gasped as he lowered himself down and kissed your stomach, making sure to cover each curve and roll as he journeyed up, keeping his warm palms cupped and dragging up your sides as he kissed between your breasts. Your knees squeezed him at the ribs when he palmed one of your tits, using the light hold to lick a broad stripe over the sensitive nipple. He went back to kissing higher, trailing up along your stretched neck and biting teasingly at your earlobe before coming face to face.

“Any preferences?” Fingers, tongue, toys.

“I’d prefer to cum sooner than later,” you said cheekily, basking in his eye roll.

“Yes, ma’am,” he huffed good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.”

He leant down and kissed you, plunging and messy, not like the dry brush of lips in the rain or the rushed eager swaps of spit and squished smiles on the way home and into your bedroom. You brushed your hands over his furry chest and trembled pleasantly, raking your fingers through and sighing at the strength usually hidden beneath layers of baggy and comfortable clothing.

“John,” you sighed and he shuffled his way down back between your legs.

“Just lay back and relax,” he ordered before trailing his nose through your bush, huffing in an opened-mouthed breath with a pleased hum.

“Need a map?” You joked breathily, breath hitching when he huffed an amused breath at your opening, pressing a light kiss there afterwards. His thumb gently spread your vulva and he gave a gentle kitten lick. Using the building wetness he found he trailed his thumb lower to your arsehole and kept it there with little pressure.

“Nah, this is your clit, right?” he asked teasingly. You snorted, but felt your pussy clench and your muscles tense when he added a bit of pressure.

“John—“

“Relax,” he said again. He moved his attention and his hand back up. “Don’t need a guided tour, though I appreciate the offer; wouldn’t mind watching you show me what you like another day. But I know what I’m doing, love.”

He licked a stripe up your centre and your eyes fluttered, your hips pushing up into his hands when he puckered his wet lips around your clit and gently suckled. “Yeah, you do,” you whimpered.

He slipped his middle finger inside fluidly, no resistance, and you let out a soft sigh, your hips subtly raising to get him as deep as you could. He changed the angle of his mouth so his strong nose nudged at your bundle of nerves and he could mouth at your plush wet opening instead. He licked around his finger, adding to the sticky mess as you practically sucked him in.

He could tell by the flutters of your cunt that you were enjoying yourself, the pinch of your brow only adding to his confirmation when he looked up, but you were so quiet.

“Y’can be loud for me, Sunshine,” he said, curling his finger and grinning cheshire-cat-wide when your jaw dropped at the feeling. “Don’t be shy.”

“Give me reason to,” you said with a cut off gasp. “W-work for it.”

He felt heat rush to his core, fattening his already throbbing cock.

As you wish.

He hooked one trembling thigh over his meaty shoulder and focused back on the heat between your legs; like sticky syrup, slippery between the pads of his fingers as he dipped a second finger in beside the first.

He gave you a moment to clench around the thicker intrusion with closed eyes before setting a quicker, less forgiving pace than before. You let out a surprised grunt, your hand flying down to grip his hair as he sealed his lips to your clit with a wagging tongue.

“Fuck.”

His left hand moved to keep your hips still, strapped across your soft tummy like a seatbelt, his palm a firm pressure in the soft pudge below your bellybutton.

He broke the seal of his mouth to heave in a panting breath and nibbled at the soft skin of your thigh beside his head to catch his breath while his fingers continued to pull sweet noises from you.

You whimpered softly, dropping your hands to the mattress and clinging tight to the sheets and felt your cheeks heat up when John chuckled.

“Can’t tell what I prefer hearing,” he said and paused his fingers deep inside of you, spreading them to get a little look at the desperate cling of you around his long digits. Your creamy arousal slid down the back of his hairy knuckles and he revelled in the light squelch as you wriggled in his hold, urging his fingers deeper inside. “Your sweet cunt or your careful moans.”

“Please, John,” you asked. Pleaded. “I’m close.”

He slipped his fingers free of your tight clutch and shushed you with a smile when you whined. Licking his pruny fingers clean, he groaned at the taste.

“I’ll get you there, Sunshine, don’t worry.”

He left a wet smack of a kiss on your thigh before ducking back down and licking deep and insatiable into your needy cunt, his fingers focused on your sensitive clit instead, rubbing almost too hard and too fast as your hips pushed your cunt further into his mouth. His arm kept you locked close and unable to shift away, not that you wanted it to end, but the sudden onslaught of hyper-focused attention was a lot after his teasing and after so long without a partner. Your hand had made its way to the back of his head once more, cupping gently, but urging him forward with a steel determination. He wasn’t allowed back up for air until you’d cum.

He pinched your clit and you shrieked at the nip of pain beneath the pleasure, feeling yourself tumble over the edge as he huffed and grunted into your pussy like a man starved.

John held you close by the thighs with both hands as you arched and clenched on his tongue; slobbering and groaning against your tender vulva as you cried out. He gave your thigh one light but sharp slap as you flooded his senses; sweaty and salty, the taste and scent of you.

You collapsed back with a breathy little, hnngh, and let your fingers scratch lazily through his hair where he’d rested his face in the groove of your groin.

He hummed and dragged himself further up your body before slumping over you, kissing the taste of you into the back of your mouth, ingraining it into your tongue, gums and teeth as you whined and writhed beneath him.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you laughed tiredly into his mouth. “Gimme a chance.”

He smiled and ground himself against your hip. “Can’t help it, y’make me feel like a teenager.”

Your nose scrunched and he huffed a laugh. “A’right, won’t make that comparison again.”

You pecked his lips in thanks and slipped your hand down between you, gathering a glob of your own arousal between your fingers. Thoroughly lubed, you pushed your hand under the band of his boxers and rubbed the collected juices over his cock and watched his brow pinch in pleasure.

It was your turn to tease.

You leant up and kissed him open mouthed and slow, the tease of tongue against his lips as he humped against your hand, moans mingling in breaths shared.

You moved your hand lower, went to slip in a finger but he gripped your wrist tightly. You looked up with wide eyes, hand falling loose in his grip where it had stopped you in your tracks.

“No, not like that. I don’t— I don’t like—“

“That’s ok,” you interrupted his stuttering explanation, watching walls build up before your eyes that you were determined not to let solidify. He didn’t need them around you. “We can just keep doing it like before,” you offered easily with a smile and lingering kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Whatever you want.”

John guided your hand back up hesitantly, watching you as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept your fingers hovering over his cock once more and you pushed forward to rub from tip to root and back up again.

“Yeah?” You asked and watched as his shoulders relaxed again. He moved his arm to lean back on his elbow by your head and you smiled, satisfied with the show of trust. “Yeah, ok.”

You pushed against the spot just below the head of his cock, trapping it against his pubic mound and were gratified as he groaned low, like the sound was forcibly pulled out of him as he thrusted roughly against your fingers. John ducked his head and kissed you, missing the mark in his desperation and licking against the corner of your mouth instead.

You nudged your face up slightly and let him moan against your lips, quickly falling into the distraction of getting him dripping and close; pulling out all your tricks and feeling yourself get worked up in return whenever you felt him throb and pulse in your hand, his thick, hairy thighs shifting either side of yours.

He pulled back and you paused your ministrations immediately, worried you’d done something wrong again, but John hurriedly tugged his boxers down and off, kicking them away from the bed and diving back towards you with a ravenous kiss.

Rolling onto his back, John tugged you into his lap so you were straddling him and for the first time in his presence a burst of hesitance connected to your weight bloomed in your chest.

You lifted up on your knees slightly to relieve some of your weight from his hips.

“Oh, John I don’t know—“

“Come ‘ere, Sunshine,” he pulled your hips back down and urged you to ride him, moving with his own frotting hips as your vulva spread to soak around his cock.

With each grind, the head nudged slightly from its foreskin and kissed your clit perfect as you tilted back. You huffed a weak moan as he slipped through your folds and the schlickschlickschlick sounds of your combined arousal mingling and frothing between your thighs had you panting and moving quicker.

Once you found your pace, one hand balanced back on his hairy thigh and the other rubbing at your clit furiously, he lifted his hands from the fat of your hips and stomach up to thumb at your nipples.

You noticed how he moaned and tensed when you slipped heavily over his sensitive tip and grinned a little meanly as you focused a careful swivel of your hips to catch your slick centre on it. You clenched and gushed over his throbbing tip as he whined, gripping you tightly to try and pull you lower.

“Close?” You asked with a breathy giggle, feeling your own legs shake with the oncoming orgasm.

You traced gentle fingers over his faded top scars beneath his thick thatch of chest hair as he groaned and leant down to kiss him. It didn’t take much longer for you both to cum, both worked up and the constant, teasing brushes at your cores were enough to gradually tip you over the edge.

His hand in your hair kept your mouths attached as you panted hot and wet, and when you broke free to the side his beard was scratchy against your nose and cheek as you shuddered on top of him.

“John, fuck.”

“Just like that, just like that,” he thrusted up in jerky little motions before stilling.

You flopped to the side a moment later, less conscious of your weight but wanting to be comfortable, and he gathered you close immediately. He tucked you under his chin with a grunt, slipping a leg over yours.

“I’m not letting you out of this bed for a week,” he groaned sleepily. You hummed happily, exhausted. He let you drift off before whispering in your ear. “Sorry this isn’t slow, Sunshine, but I won’t be going back to being friends now.”

You grinned and nuzzled closer.

“I think we should go visit my home town next, only fair you meet my crazy family too, yeah?”

John closed his eyes happily and nodded. “Looking forward to it,” he said. “Though my rates are a little higher than £100.”

You pinched his thigh and laughed when he tried to squirm away with a hiss.

You kissed his neck chastely and tightened your arm around his waist, nodding off as you felt him trail a hand back and forth over your naked back.

#this was such a fun chapter to write i feel a lot better about it compared to my prev chapter #hopefully you guys all like the ending :3 i was debating stuff for a while but i like it and im glad they got their cheesy romcom fade #to black afterglow lmao #thank you p for peer reviewing my smut!#john price x reader #price x reader #fat reader #trans john price #john price smut #price smut #cod smut #trans price smut #trans john price smut #im covering all bases here

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leyavo · 2 days ago

Text

| Always there for you | Price

Summary: TF 141 boys and how their wife/gf helps them when they come home after a long and gruelling mission.

I enjoyed doing the wife/gf series and wanted to do some more 🥲 [Ghost] & [Gaz] done.

[Wife/Gf masterlist]

“Malt twenty-five,” you said, bottle of whisky and two crystal glasses in your hands as you lightly kicked open John’s office door.

The air thick with smoke, cigar meeting his ashtray as you entered his space. A warm breeze pushed the lace curtains on the windowsill, not enough fresh air to filter out the ashy stench. John swiped his arm trying to break through the smog, knowing you aren’t too keen on it, but it’s his space to wind down so you let him be.

Your husband had been in his office for the past few hours since his return. His need for doing all his reports at home instead of back at the base. The only reason being you. Anything to get back to you as soon as he could. Even if you did give him space to process the aftermath of whatever went on. His usual quiet and mopey self as he adjusted to civvy life again.

Something was different this time though.

John leant back in his chair, tossing the pen across his desk. “Double it, darling,” he said, taking the small bucket of ice that hung from your wrist.

You set the glasses down, smiling as he tugged you onto his lap. His thumb smoothing the indent of carrying the bucket on your wrist. His touch feathery light, a contrast to what the Captain had to do a few days ago. Always gentle with you though.

“On the rocks?” You asked, leaning forwards and plucking some ice with the prongs. They clinked to the bottom of one of the glasses, your hands hesitating as you waited for a response.

His chuckle shook through your body, scratchy beard resting on your shoulder as he held your hand and guided the prongs back into the bucket. “Always neat.” His knuckles split open, dried blood scabbing on his tanned skin.

You shifted in his lap and hung your legs over the arm rest, passing him the neat whisky. “Mission on the rocks though?” You asked between sips, smile tugging his lips as he shook his head.

John price always had his whiskey neat, teased you for having ice with yours and asked you tell him the difference in flavours with the added mix each time you drank together. Normally a strong aged bottle for occasions like this. When the dust was still settling, the shadow of a mission gone wrong hanging over his head and keeping it down.

This was the fourth time you’d drank from this particular bottle. John had shoved it at the back of the drink cabinet like it was a bad omen. You don't know how it had become a ritual, but it seemed to ease the tension from his shoulders each time. Helped him slip back into the civvy life. The only bitter thing about it was the age of it and the price, you wished it were used in celebration instead.

“This thing should be covered in dust,” he grumbled, pouring himself another glass of whisky. He turned the half empty bottle in his hand and you wondered if he’d drain it just to never see it again.

You downed your drink, setting it back on the desk. “That bad?” You asked, trying not to pry. John didn’t like talking about his work, although he did complain about all the added paperwork expected of a captain.

“Worse.” His glass clinked against yours, gaze focused on your leg as he traced the pattern of your tights on your thigh. Deep in thought.

“I’m sorry,” you said, lips pressing against his cheek. “I wish I could be more help.”

“Don’t be, you help me in more ways than you know.”

You combed your fingers through his hair, pausing as he flinched. Something rough beneath your fingertips on his hairline. You turned his face to you and traced the gash hidden under the curl of his short hair, he’d gelled it to one side to cover up the mark.

“Just a scratch, had worse” he said, leaning forward and pecking your cheek. “Don’t give me that look.” He fell back into chair, the abrupt movement pulling you with him. A grunt left his lips as your shoulder crashed into his collarbone.

John never did complain about his injuries unless it was something he did whilst at home. Stubbed his toe or knocked his head, he was whining and looking for your sympathy. The big things like wounds or burns, weren’t spoken about, just little grunts or faltered breaths if he moved too quick.

Your brow arched. “John you’ve got stitches holding it together, that’s more than a scratch.” You lifted your palm, placing it on his forehead and checking his temperature.

“Kiss it better.” His eyes fluttered shut and his head rested on the back of his chair.

In the back of your mind, you’re expecting the worse. The memory of him returning home after he’d been gone for three years. His body still holding the scars, dreams carrying the torture he’d gone through. You have to remind yourself, he’s right there. Breathing and trying to make you laugh.

“What else am I going to find under here?” You asked, finger hooking over his collar to peek beneath the knitted jumper he wore.

“I’m sure you’ll find something you like petal,” he said, squeezing your thigh.

You gasped, scrambling off his lap. “Oh my god, John. Is that a burn?” Tears filled your eyes and you averted your gaze to ceiling, the only way to stop them falling.

“Now that ain’t a scratch.”

John’s hand took yours and he brushed his thumb over your knuckles, letting you gather yourself. You focused on his light touch, his grounding presence making you look at him again. The neckline of his jumper stretched, the puckered skin over his collarbone standing out against the light knitted yarn.

“Maybe we should drink from the bottle, finish the damned thing tonight.” You picked the whisky up by the neck of the bottle and took a swig, stretching your arm out for John to take one too.

He patted his lap, drinking from the bottle. His gaze fixed on you as you climbed back into his lap. “Come on, Petal. Tell me what I've missed."

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peakyswritings · 2 days ago

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Omg K I’m sorry I forgot to mention the character😂 but it was Tommy!

First of all, I loved how it can be read from two perspectives - pre-war and canon times. I honestly don’t know which one I prefer! Also, I’m a sucker for protective Tommy, so you can imagine I was giggling and kicking my feet when I read the actual reason why he got into that fight🤭 (Y/n) being so done suggests me it’s not the first time he shows up like that at her door in the middle of the night😂

Tommy resisted the urge to reach out and hold her waist even though he so desperately wanted to do so to steady himself.

Shahdhdhshsh please😭

She then examined the rest of his facial features for any other injury all while trying to shake the feeling of his intense gaze that was focused on her face. She couldn't let her feelings for him get the better of her... not while in this position.

Girl deserves an award for not caving in right there and then. A self-controlled queen.

I loved the whole scene where she is rambling and he’s just standing there, looking at her. It made me melt. And the way he was so cheeky about that.

"What, am I not allowed to look at you?" (Y/N) teasingly quipped back, essentially allowing their conversation to do a full 360.

Ah, I LOVED this!

K, the tension you built up with these two almost killed me. Top-tier. Chef’s kiss. I couldn’t wait for these two to finally kiss. I absolutely love what you did with this.

Thank you so much for writing it, and sorry for not replying to this sooner🤍

A Deal that Goes Both Ways | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @peakyswritings

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: Feelings get spilled as Tommy comes to (Y/N) to have her patch him up yet again.

Warnings: smoking, language, mentions of blood

Word Count: 1867

A/N: this became a full on fic…..I just didn’t know when to stop it haha. I hope you like what I did with the prompt, Reb! You didn’t add who you wanted it to be with so I went with Tommy (of course) — and this could also be read as a prewar Tommy story too…I didn’t really slap a time period on it. Enjoy! :)

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED — I’d love to know what you thought of the story!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

Not again was the first thought (Y/N) had as she heard the knock sound off of her front door. Only one person would be knocking at this time of night...and he'd most likely be knocking for only one reason.

"What happened this time, Thomas?" she asked with a sigh as she opened the door to see the man she knew was standing on the other side.

"Why so formal?" he asked nonchalantly, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips, resting on the side that wasn't split and still bloody.

"It's two in the morning," she responded, turning and walking deeper into her home. The foosteps sounding behind her told her he was following. "I'd much rather be sleeping."

"I can go if you want," he offered.

"No, you've already woken me up," she dismissed his suggestion, "what happened this time?" she re-asked her initial question.

"Same old," his nonchalant nature returned as he sat down in the chair (Y/N) pulled out for him.

"So a bar fight? Or bet gone wrong?" she paused getting the necessary supplies to quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Neither," Tommy shrugged, looking down at his busted knuckles as he flexed his hand.

"So not the same old?" there was a slight tinge of surprise in (Y/N)'s voice. "Please do tell what happened."

"Someone spoke to me the wrong way," he responded, his explanation still very vague. (Y/N) didn't press for any more info because she knew this was all she'd get out of him.

What Tommy wanted to say was that he had to punch some bastard's teeth in for speaking about her the wrong way, and then he proceeded to fight said bastard and two of his drunken friends when they wouldn't let it go. He couldn't admit that to her though.

"Ahh..." (Y/N) trailed off as she moved over to him, placing the supplies she gathered on the table beside him as she stopped to stand between his parted legs.

Tommy resisted the urge to reach out and hold her waist even though he so desperately wanted to do so to steady himself.

"Let's see what we've got here," she said, more so to herself as she gently took hold of his chin to get a better look at his face. The hiss he let out made her realize that his jaw had also been bruised in the altercation.

She quietly got started on dabbing the blood off of his split lip, and followed it up with putting some ointment on the cut in hopes it wouldn't get infected.

"Let me see your hands now," she instructed him once she considered his face finished.

"They're fine, love," he brushed her off, keeping them balled in fists resting against his thighs.

"Let me see them, Tommy," she insisted, her eyes meeting his to convey the serious nature of the situation.

The slightest sigh escaped his lips as he flattened out his hands. (Y/N)'s eyes immediately went to his right hand, and she took it into hers to get a closer look at his bloodied knuckles. "Goodness, Tommy," she breathed softly as she grabbed a wet cloth and began to gently wipe the blood off. She couldn't help but wince as he hissed at the feeling. The cuts looked deep and had to be painful. "Did the man have a steel jaw?" she, half-jokingly, questioned him as she began placing the same ointment on his knuckles.

"Must've," Tommy mumbled, letting out a soft snort at her attempts to make light of the situation.

(Y/N) smiled softly at his response, finishing up what she was doing with his right hand before she checked over his left. She then stepped out from between his legs when she considered herself done, moving over to the kitchen countertop to begin cleaning up. The scrape of the chair off of the hardwood floor told her that Tommy had also stood up.

"Make sure you some ice on your jaw and you should be good in a-" her statement was cut off by the shriek of surprise she let out when she turned around to tind Tommy now standing right behind her. "You scared me, Tommy," she gasped, placing her hand over her chest as she took some calming breaths.

"Wasn't my intention," he responded, although he couldn't help but smile at the reaction he'd gotten from her.

"You frustrate me sometimes," she huffed, shaking her head before she brought a hand up to the side of it, hoping that she could remember what it was she was saying before the surprise happened. "I was saying that if you remember to put ice on your jaw and make sure your cuts stay clean you should be good in a few days...now are you going to follow that? No, most likely not, but it's my hope that you will," she explained her plan of treatment to him, finishing her rambling by glancing up at him. "Why're you looking at me like that?" she asked without thought, commenting on the intense gaze he currently had locked on her.

His blue eyes just about made her shudder under their stare, and she'd be lying if she said that the undivided attention he was giving her was making her heat up.

"What, am I not allowed to look at you?" he asked, his brows raising.

"No, not like that, you aren't," she insisted, holding a hand out between them to emphasize her statement.

"How exactly am I looking at you, (Y/N)?" he asked another question, wanting clarification from her.

"You're looking at me like..." she trailed off, struggling to find the words that she needed to convey her statement, "like you think that l'm...like I'm some..."

"Like you're the only person in the world?" Tommy cut off her stumbling, hoping that his suggestion would finish her sentence. As he spoke he stepped closer to her.

"Yes, exactly!" she agreed with him without putting much thought into what he was saying, "you were looking at me like I was the only person in the world."

"And you don't like it?" he asked, his brow raised inquisitively.

Now (Y/N) could no longer stay solid under the weight of his gaze combined with his close proximity. She only hoped that she was able to keep a good exterior composure...on the inside she was done for.

"No, it's not that I didn't like it, it's just..."

"Just what?" he pried for more information, his eyes flitting down to her lips as he admired how she looked as he stood inches away from her.

"Jesus, you don't ever act like this, Tommy...what's going on?" she deflected with a question, hoping to carry the conversation on without him realizing that she didn't have a concrete answer to his previous question.

"You didn't answer my question, love," he completely ignored her query to remind her she was ignoring his.

"Yeah, and you didn't answer mine," she wasn't falling for his tactic, instead throwing it back in his face.

"You wanna know why I came here tonight? Why I got into that fight?" he asked her, his brows raised.

"Someone spoke to you the wrong way," she reiterated what he'd told her earlier.

"Someone spoke about you the wrong way," he quickly corrected her, telling the truth this time around and adding emphasis on what actually got him upset, "and you know I can't let anyone do that."

(Y/N) took a moment, letting what he said sink in. His intense gaze stayed locked on her, and it certainly wasn't helping her think straight in this situation. After a few beats of silence, she finally let out a sigh. "I don't need defending, Tommy. I've told you that so many times."

"I'll still take a fuckin' punch for you when I need to, love," he told her, his words making her laugh despite the wild mix of emotions she was currently feeling.

"Oh Tommy." she let out another sigh, trying, and failing, to stop the smile that was tugging on her lips. She quickly turned around and attempted to busy herself with continuing cleaning.

Her diversion didn't last long as only seconds later Tommy's hand was taking hold of her arm to spin her back around to face him. Her mouth opened slightly as she looked at him, waiting for whatever he had to say.

He didn't say anything though. Instead, his gaze flitted between her eyes and lips as he moved in slowly. (Y/N) quickly realized what he was doing. She placed her hands on his chest when she felt his breath fan across her face.

"Tommy, your lip," she said, her voice coming out in a whisper, "this'll hurt it."

"I don't give a damn about my lip, (Y/N)," he firmly replied, moving back slightly so that his eyes could match hers. He could no longer resist from bringing his hand up to hold onto her jaw. "I want to kiss you," he told her then, never sounding more sure about anything in his life.

(Y/N)'s mind was buzzing. She never thought she'd be in this position with Tommy; never thought that their relationship would take that turn. But now here they were, close enough to feel each other's breath.

"Then kiss me," she breathed, unable to even smile at him because his lips were on hers the second she finished speaking.

The kiss felt like a whirlwind. It made her dizzy and fuzzy inside. She never thought someone with such a tough exterior could be so gentle, but here was Tommy Shelby, crushing all of her prior conceptions.

Both were out of breath when they pulled away. Tommy had to close his eyes to center himself, still truly surprised that that had just happened. Truthfully, he'd wanted to kiss (Y/N) from the moment he first spoke to her. He never thought he'd actually get the opportunity. When he finally did open his eyes, he saw that (Y/N) had her gaze locked on his face, and the sweetest smile was present on hers.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" he re-asked the question that got them to this point, a grin forming on his face.

"What, am I not allowed to look at you?" (Y/N) teasingly quipped back, essentially allowing their conversation to do a full 360.

"Love you could look at me all you want, so long as I'm allowed to kiss you again," he waged a deal, playfully quirking an eyebrow as he waited to see how she'd respond.

(Y/N)'s smile only grew. "I'll accept your offer so long as this deal goes both ways."

"Oh it most certainly goes both ways," Tommy grinned, his hand finding her jaw again so that he could match their lips together once more.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @succubaby @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @mischievouslittlecreature @stevie75

@lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick

@dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety

@justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader

@red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

@ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby @wonderlanddreamer

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chrollohearttags · 18 hours ago

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nobody knows • portgas d. ace

another drabble for sneaky link/ex boyfriend ace bc I have one functioning brain cell and all of it is focused on him atm teehee 🤭

wc: 1.8K

more infidelity (y’all both still AIN’T SHIT 😭 reader got that dog in her I’m sorry), straight porn, modern au, black fem reader, phone sex/sexting, squirting, oral sex, calls reader bitch, a eating + anal, recording, backshots, rough sex, heavy breeding, idk what else will come out

he’s so ooc in this and I don’t give a fuck (I’m ovulating and stressed w life + therapy is too expensive)

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

nobody knows why you and ex-boyfriend!ace broke up in the first place. Honestly, it seemed like such a waste…three long years down the drain with nothing to show for it but the two of you left in shambles. Friends and family consoling you both as you learned to navigate life without one another. (Y/N), moving on fairly quickly with the son of one of your dad’s friends..a byproduct of military nepotism and the very antithesis to what Ace was. A stiff working a cushy desk job and reaping the benefits..pushing papers and always playing it safe. He was very kind, sweet and damn near ideal in every sense of the word. Not too much of a drinker, a partygoer or anything of the sort but he always took you on dates. All of your girlfriends liked him well enough, thinking that he more matched your speed than the thrill seeking, goofy, chaotic daredevil that was ex-boyfriend!ace. Who rode motorcycles and climbed mountains in his spare time, when he wasn’t holding life by the tips of his fingers as an EMT. Covered in tattoos, he looked like such a quintessential, stereotypical ‘bad boy’… “God, (y/n). I don’t know what you ever saw in that guy. He’s a loser, through and through.”

However, what nobody knows..is that you never truly left him alone! He was your ideal match and you couldn’t shake it. You could actually laugh, joke and make mistakes with him. There was no need for faux perfection and lies. You saw each other for who you really were.

Nobody knows that while you’re at work, he’s constantly sending you filthy messages to get you aroused and worked up. Making you chew your lip and the tip of your pen as you twirl in your chair..reading how he’s going to make sure you feel it in your stomach the next time you two link. Nobody knows he shamelessly sends you nut videos, uttering your name with the sexiest moans. Nobody knows that when you tell your assistant that the hour where you refuse any meetings is designated for you to choke on ex-boyfriend!ace’s cock in your cute little business attire..loving the way those glasses hang off the tip of your nose as he pushes your forehead to his pelvis.

“Goddamn, babe..I knew I couldn’t quit you..you’re eating my dick up so good.”

“It’d taste even better if you let me come on it first.”

loving that you were willing to abandon all of your morals for him so easily. Nobody knows about the second phone you keep stashed away in your glovebox just to call him late at night when your new man is sleeping or working overnight and you want some company..

“Can you please come over? I miss you..he won’t be back tonight. I promise.”

“Of course, baby. Anything for you..I’ll always come running when you tell me.”

or in need of a good orgasm because that dummy couldn’t give you one if you handed him a roadmap to the clit! With ex-boyfriend!ace on the other line talking you through it with that deep voice and lewd commands.

“Oh my gosh, pretty girl. Did you call me just so you could touch yourself to the sound of my voice? You’re so cute..” making you FaceTime him because he wants to see the mess he helped create.

nobody knows that whilst you're out at dinner with your new man, alongside loved ones as he boasts about how he knows you’re the one and how you guys make such a lovely couple, (y/n) is daydreaming about ex-boyfriend!ace riding you on the back of his Suzuki through the city, knowing the rush gets you turned on. That rather than dealing with an insecure little boy who felt intimidated by your looks and success, ex-boyfriend!ace would go drinking and partying with you, loving when you showed off your body because he wasn't worried about another man taking what was his. Nobody knows that you have a small tattoo of ex-boyfriend!ace’s name right above your private area. Hell, it's not as if your new man touched you enough to notice and when he did, the lights remained off.

When your girlfriends are divulging the dirt about their relationships and how envious they are of you. Claiming that you hit the jackpot with such a structured, well mannered guy who works a high paying job and always comes home to you. But what nobody knows…is that he could never replace the man you truly love. So much so, when you kiss him on the cheek that Friday evening before heading to the ‘airport’ for another business trip..you’re secretly meeting ex-boyfriend!ace in the top floor suite at a luxury hotel hours away from home where you two go every month to fuck each other's brains out for three days straight. Akin to addicts who can’t be satisfied, you rabidly devour one another until your bodies quit.

“I’ve waited all week for this…I’m so not sorry for how I’m about to fuck you.” ”I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Wrapping his hands around your throat, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he corners you against a wall. Nobody knows that ex!boyfriend!ace has you face down on a mattress with your ass up in the air as his tongue explores both of your entrances. Practically seating you on his face to suction around that clit, flicking his tongue in and out of your tight cunt before prodding your asshole, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva on each of them. Because you wore that adorable little heart shaped plug to help prep you for the weekend.

“You taste so fucking good…especially when I know you’ll let me have it anytime I want.”

nobody knows that you’re somewhere gripping the sheets for dear life as ex-boyfriend!ace delivers the most insane backshots you’ve ever felt. Those perfectly round, thick cheeks ricocheting off of his lower half..the contrast in your skin and that pearlescent scream surrounding his shaft making the sight even better…ripping orgasms from your body with no shame because he deserves it. After all, you belong to him.

“That’s right..come on this dick, bitch. Give me what I want..” he still loves and respects you all the same. But ace knows you prefer rough, degrading sex far more than the mundane and vanilla. Especially when it was in short supply with your current situation. Even going as far as to place a foot on your head, tugging your arms behind your back so that he can really bury his cock inside of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee, just like that, daddy. ‘S so good!”

“You love when I dig you out like this, treating you like a little slut..’swear this pussy’s going to get me in some serious trouble one day. But I don’t care, I love you.”

rambling on as he feels you twitching around him for the third time, leaving splatters of warm juices each time; squirting immensely from the constant stimulation to your spot.

“Damn, you’re coming so hard, pretty girl. Is he not fucking you right?” Laughing before he could even get the very rhetorical question from his mouth. Leaning down to place a trail of pecks and licks on your spine to console you before placing you into a prone position. ”Of course not..nobody knows this body better than me. Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” All but confirmed by the way you’re tightening around him..he can’t help but to grip your throat and steal sloppy kisses from you whilst he drills you into the mattress. “Nooo, babyyy. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good..oh my Goddd—“ placing his camera in your face so that he could have it for safekeeping..(and in case he gets wind of your man running his mouth about him again!) Making you call his name and scream it to the heavens. “Aceeee, fuck meeee..”

Nobody knows that you’ve been fucking for damn near an hour while your phone buzzes with missed calls and texts from your boyfriend and whatever little girl he’s deciding to entertain for the moment. As heinous as it was, you were just filling the void and you’d always find your way back to each other. Perhaps it was the thrill of sneaking around that kept this charade going. Either way, you weren’t giving each other for a long time and it’s so obvious why..no one else will do the freaky shit that you both crave so much.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck your ass again..feels amazing.” glaring up at him with the most adoring gaze in your eyes and smile on your face as you proudly hold a vibrator to your clit..allowing him to stretch that opposite opening. Practically coming on spot when you began to show your gratitude for this pleasure…

“Thank you, daddy..using all my holes like this. I love it so much.” That much apparent by the tears pouring down your face alongside that toothy grin. Only he could give it to you so good, you begin to cry!

“Oh shit..of course, gorgeous girl. I’d do anything for you..anything to see my baby smile.” Including pinning you down by your throat and letting trails of saliva drip into your mouth. Even feeding you a couple slaps when you all but pleaded with him to treat you like an object.

nobody knows that on the sparse occasions when you have sex with your current man, he’s forced to wear a condom because you’ve discussed several times that you don’t want children and you’re not taking any risks. But ex-boyfriend!ace gets the privilege of feeling that hard cock sliding in and out of you raw..and to breed you as many times as he can muster! Letting load after load spill into your aching womb. Filling every hole with that dripping seed.

“You look so pretty stuffed with my cum, sweetheart. Just how I like it.”

nobody knows why you left ex-boyfriend!ace in the first place but you knew why you’d always come running back!

@violetxxvenom @shamelesshoefairy @lwop-kpop

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pjmmania · 2 days ago

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If Snow Decides to Fall

8. “Bumps in the road.”

Author's Note: Another rollercoaster of a chapter…oops ;)

Chapter Warnings: heavy smut (extremely kinky), pregnancy, explicit language, toxic parental relationship, mental health struggles

Taglist: @marihoneywk @amarawayne @chimmy-licious

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Jimin you can't just leave now," Yoongi said, "This is serious."

Hoseok scoffed, "Yeah, you can't just tell us 'Seoyeon's back' without a little elaboration."

Grabbing his room key off the mini bar, Jimin paused. His back was turned to the group. He could hardly think, after having just screamed at Namjoon and received the most unexpected information.

His shoulders dropped from a tense height as he exhaled a deep breath. He had sent you a text immediately after getting off the call. You were awake and agreed to speak with him about it. It wasn't like you were going to be able to sleep anytime soon.

His voice was now scratchy from yelling, "I need to speak to Y/N. She’s meeting me in my room. I think she tried to tell me this earlier, multiple times. We just kept getting interrupted."

"I agree that she needs to be a part of the conversation, but so do we," Jin replied gently, "It's a delicate situation. I'm sure the company will handle it, but we should all be on the same page here. This woman almost...well we all know what she almost did."

"Then come with me if you want. I don't care," Jimin turned to face them all, his eyes firmly alert as he pointed at Namjoon, "But not you. I don't want you near her."

The blonde man was completely calm at this point, maybe even humble, "Jimin-"

"No,” he held solid, “I haven’t told everyone in this room yet, but at the ultrasound we found out that her blood pressure is too high. It’s largely due to stress, and it could become a real problem if she can’t get it under control. The last thing she needs is to feel under attack.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, his tone sincere and soft, “I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry for the argument. I think it’s important for us all to know what’s going on, like Jin said. You have my word that I’ll shut up and listen. But I don’t want to affect her health and if you truly don’t want me there, I’ll respect it. I’m…I’m really sorry.”

His head dropped as if to hide in shame. The man rubbed his palm against his forehead.

No one spoke, waiting for Jimin’s response.

He pursed his lips together and closed his eyes, “Fine. Let's go."

As they all filtered out of Hoseok's room and into his, which was further down the hall, you were on your way up in your sleep shorts, another one of Jimin's t-shirts, and slippers.

You were so glad that the company didn't book you a shared room with Chaeyoung. Otherwise, this would be tough to explain.

The guys were on the top floor. They had an entire hallway booked out for them, to give them a nice cushion of privacy. You were confident no one would see you, but just in case, you wore your company staff badge on a lanyard around your neck.

You could feel the anxiety bubbling up within you, so you focused on controlling deep breaths in the elevator. When you reached their floor, no one was around. A blessing, amid the mess.

As you rounded corner after corner, you checked Jimin's text to recall his room number.

When you came upon the correct door, you knocked. It was opened instantly, as if he’d been waiting by the entry for you.

He pitied the sight of you standing there, looking worn down. Suspicion of any wrongdoing on your account was impossible. He saw it all on your face, but he wanted an explanation nonetheless.

He pulled you inside, closed the door, and brought you into his arms, “Come here, baby.”

You settled in his embrace as you peered at the group behind him. To your relief, none of them looked upset with you, not even Namjoon.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I was trying to tell you.”

His hand stroked your hair, “I know. It’s okay. Nothing is horribly wrong.”

The other members were shocked he could say such a thing. They all had cause to be very worried, but if he wasn’t going to panic, then neither would they.

When he released you, he checked your face to make sure you were calm. His lips pulled upward into a soft grin, putting aside any of his own worries for the sake of your mental state. You nodded at him, letting him know you were ready to talk about it.

Holding your hand, Jimin brought you into the suite. You exchanged subdued greetings with the others and decided to sit on the edge of the king-sized bed. Your partner sat beside you and handed you a bottle of water, in case you needed it.

“I, um, I guess I’ll just say what happened…” you cleared your throat, “At the airport yesterday, I got shoved in that swarm of fans and the woman standing behind me picked me up. It turned out to be Seoyeon. We sort of just went through TSA together and grabbed a coffee. Until Chaeyoung showed up and recognized her, I wasn’t certain it was really her. I know that you all rightfully have a negative view of her, but she was actually very kind to me. Our conversation ended when she realized that I worked for the company…and that I know you guys. It made her uncomfortable.”

“What did you guys talk about?” Jimin asked putting a soothing hand around your wrist, “I mean…did she mention anything or infer anything?”

“About you or BTS? Not specifically. She made a comment about the industry, though. She said it ‘wasn’t her scene’.”

Jungkook jeered at that, rolling his eyes, “Oh please.”

Your boyfriend scooted a little closer to you, swallowing up his pride, “I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific. What did you talk about?”

You closed your eyes, wanting to sink into the mattress beneath you, “Babies. We talked about babies. She’s pregnant as well.”

Jimin let go of your wrist. The room went stiff.

You sighed, looking down at your lap, “She married a CEO and was on her way to LA to see him. Nothing nefarious. She wasn’t following you guys or anything. I-I think it was all just a coincidence.”

The guys were waiting for Jimin to reply first.

“No,” he looked at you with all the assurance you needed, “I’m sure it was. If she’s married and starting a family, I highly doubt that she has the time or motivation to screw with us.”

Namjoon looked like he was biting his tongue.

Taehyung leaned against the wall with arms crossed over his chest, “That is, unless she could have had any indication that you two are together now.”

You gulped and looked at your boyfriend, “No, she couldn’t have. Your name never even came up. And we didn’t discuss BTS beyond a brief mention of the airport mob. When she realized who I worked for, she left. She had no interest in digging for more information.”

He sensed your nerves and put his arm around you, “Hey, it’s okay. I believe you. Management told me they will keep an eye out for any rumors, but they weren’t very concerned either. It appears we don’t need to worry about her, so we won’t. Just wanted to hear it from you, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi reinforced, glancing at Jimin before you, “Don’t sweat it.”

The leader of the group dipped his head, brows knitted together in a broadcast of regret.

You nodded, “Okay. Sorry to ruin your little celebration.”

“How did you know?” Jin chuckled.

“It’s no secret that you guys enjoy a some drinks after a shoot like this,” you broke into a grin, “Plus you all smell a bit like champagne.”

Most of them laughed at the comment. Jimin pecked your temple and you yawned. Now that your conscience was clear, sleepiness overtook you.

"Will you come to the dinner with us tomorrow, Y/N?" Hoseok questioned.

"Dinner?"

"Just a team dinner sort of thing. Us and all the staff that came along," Jungkook elaborated, "You should come."

You smiled, "Sounds fun, though I might need to have Chae take me shopping. This could be an excuse for me to finally go get some maternity clothes.”

“Your bump has gotten bigger.” Taehyung smirked.

The oldest member elbowed him, “Don’t say that! It’s rude.”

You laughed and put your hand on your belly, “But it’s true. I’ve grown out of almost every cute top I own. Once it gets cooler, I’m going to need new jeans as well. Ugh, just new everything.”

Hoseok broke into a tender laughter. Everyone looked confused.

Grinning curiously, Jimin asked him, "What, Hobi?"

"Sorry, it's nothing," his eyes were narrow in a glad squint, "I just can't believe you guys are really having a baby. Why does it suddenly feel so real now?"

Yours and Jimin's hearts were warmed.

"It's going to be fun," Jungkook concurred, his endearing bunny smile shining, "Chasing after a tiny version of one of us. Is it a boy or girl?"

"We aren't going to find out," your boyfriend smirked, "Care to make a wager? We each put in fifty-thousand won and then the winning side splits the pot."

Now you were in a playful mood and interjected, "It's a boy. I can feel it."

Jimin laughed and nudged you, "That's a lie. You said you didn't have a gut feeling."

You shrugged, "Well now I do."

"I still think it's a girl," he said before looking at all the members, "And my prediction is more legitimate. I felt it from the beginning."

"I say girl." Jungkook voiced.

"Girl." Jin nodded.

"Boy," Taehyung, "Gotta side with Y/N's maternal instincts."

"Nope," Hoseok chuckled, "Nothing against your instincts, Y/N, but Jimin's a girl dad."

Yoongi pondered it momentarily, "I honestly have no idea, but I'll go with boy, just to keep it interesting."

"If you must, but you're going to have to fork it over when you meet my daughter." Jimin taunted.

The father of the child placed his hand on your protruding abdomen. The gaiety on his face was raw and undeniable. He was happy - truly happy.

Namjoon took stock of this. Only then did it click. There was no way you could be like Seoyeon. She could never create that look on his face, nor could anyone else. Hana’s words replayed in his mind. She was right - you’d done nothing to indicate malevolence. That was the proof in itself.

He was disgusted with himself, so much that he couldn’t find any words to say. How could he even begin to apologize? Until this point, he had been the least supportive friend. He had gone out of his way to try to tear Jimin from a source of pure joy and love.

Wanting to be nice, you extended it to the one person you hadn't given his prediction. "Namjoon?"

Feeling apart from his own self, he stood slowly, “I’m…I’m going to go to bed. Long day, you know?”

There were no utterances of dismay. His cadence was downtrodden, not angry. This was not an act of protest - it was one of contrition.

For once, Jimin saw and believed the remorse, but he let him exit the room regardless. He found himself unable to forgive so easily. What he did was too far over the line.

After the door closed, you looked at all of them, "I think he's starting to come around, actually. Today he-"

"Don't mention that, please." Your boyfriend removed his hand from your bump and used it to sweep hair out of his face, tongue poking his cheek.

"Oh, you already know about what he said?"

"He told us," Jin sat down in his place, "Sorry about that."

"It's alright."

"It's the furthest thing from 'alright'," Jimin groaned with vexation, "The fact that he would go so far as to denigrate you like that to your face."

You put your hand on his back and rubbed it, "Well, it was awkward, but I didn't get the sense that he was purposefully trying to denigrate me. It felt like he was really just searching for answers, out of a place of care...for you."

"That’s no excuse.” he bit back.

You were plainly too tired to get into it. Your body craved rest, and you yawned once more. It forced your boyfriend back to a focus solely set on you.

“You guys should leave. We’re going to turn in.”

You flashed him a puzzled look, “Wait, no. I can’t sleep here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jin laughed lightly as he and the others began to head out, “Anything for your spooning time.”

Jimin chuckled, though his mood wasn’t necessarily jubilant.

You still objected, “Jimin, I really shouldn’t sleep here.”

He wore that gorgeous grin that no woman could refuse, “It’s no big deal, I promise. There are no other staff staying on this floor and you aren’t sharing a room with Chaeyoung. No one will notice.”

Jungkook tiffed, “Not to be weird, but if you were able to pull off spending that many nights at his apartment without being caught, I think you’re good.”

“Night, love birds.” Yoongi called before they all headed out the door.

As much as you didn’t want to risk getting caught, there was always a gravitational pull towards the solace that Jimin never failed to provide for you. You had a hard time saying no to his company.

In this large hotel room now with a population of two, you both took a moment to relax.

He then patted your knee twice and stood up, “You get comfortable, sweetheart. I’m going to clean up real quick.”

As he stood up, you caught the traces of lightness fade from his features. They were replaced with those of hurt, of confusion.

He walked into the bathroom and flicked the light on, closing the door behind him.

You sat there on the bed and listened to the sink run. It wasn’t lost on you that the news was jarring for him. You could only imagine how bizarre it was to have her in the loop of discussion. He’d told you before that she wasn’t someone he liked to talk about - there was a world of pain there that you didn’t know intimately.

He deserved to feel odd about all of this. It had to be okay for him to show a little disdain. He didn’t have to put on a show of strength for you all the time.

When he returned to the bedroom, there was the slightest furrow of his brows, as if he was in deep thought.

You shifted onto your knees, the fluffy white covers beneath you, hands in your lap, “Jimin, can we talk for a minute?”

“Hm?” he spun around, rubbing the back of his neck, “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“You’re distraught. Is it Namjoon?”

“I mean, yeah, but not entirely. I’ve sort of gotten used to feeling this way about him, unfortunately.”

It was Seoyeon.

You tilted your head, eyes full of pity and concern, “I see…It’s alright for you to feel strange about all of this. I know it’s freaked you out a little.”

He sat on the other side of the bed, back facing you, “I’m not freaked out. I have all the faith that she won’t do anything stupid. It sounds funny, given the way things ended between us, but I know she wouldn’t stoop that low. Especially if she’s…you know.”

“Married and pregnant?”

He paused, revealing the true thorn in his side, “Yes…”

“Jimin, it’s normal to feel weird about an ex moving on. She broke up with you and then quickly got married and now she’s having a baby. It’s not easy to digest. And that’s okay.”

“It’s not even that,” he looked back at you over his shoulder, “It just pisses me off that she got what she wanted. She got her money, her high status. I sort of always took comfort that by ending it with me, she was cheating herself out of getting all of that. But she fucking got it in the end, and she doesn’t deserve it.”

You crawled across the bed to kneel behind him, and you began to rub his shoulders, “So she went and probably used this other guy. I agree that she doesn’t deserve it. But…if we spend time focusing on resenting her, then she gets another win. Personally, I don’t feel like handing another victory to someone who hurt the man I love.”

His shoulders dropped as he shook his head, “How is your heart this golden?”

“It’s not,” you sighed as you let go and scooted over to sit down next to him, “My heart has been tarnished. The fact that my parents won’t even speak to me has been devastating. Sometimes I feel so angry with them that I start to like the idea of never seeing them again. It’s horrible to say, but sometimes I think of our child never having a relationship with them, and I’m content. But then I realize how much power I give them when I do that.”

You began to get choked up, and it was evident by the break in your voice, “And people who would abandon their daughter don’t get to control.”

He put his hand on your knee and frowned, heartbroken for you, “Baby…”

You nodded, pulling it together, “And so, out of my resentment comes some kind of forced indifference. I just choose not to pay them mind, and I can move on. I don’t focus on what they deserve or don’t deserve. I just let the situation be, for the sake of my own peace.”

He kissed your cheek and then you let that same cheek rest on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he said, “You’re right. Letting it linger will only hurt me, not her. And you and our baby girl are far more worth the energy.”

You smiled, “You really are confident about the girl thing, huh?”

“Of course I am,” he chuckled, “I know everything.”

"Well, I know something you don't know."

Voice soft, he hummed, "Hm?"

"I felt movement today." you couldn't help but giggle the words out.

Jimin was instantly more alert. He hastily scooted further from you so he could turn to face you, eyes wide with wonderment, "You did?"

You nodded, "Just these tiny tapping sensations. The baby books are right. It feels like bubbles popping. Actually, it sort of tickled."

He threw his arms around you and laughed melodiously, which caused you to laugh harder. His joy was contagious to you. His embrace was so forceful that you fell back onto the bed together, though he was instinctively careful not to put his full weight on you.

He pulled away so he could lift his shirt from your abdomen and kiss right below your belly button. Then he cooed, "Good job, little one. Daddy's so proud of you for learning how to wiggle around in there."

You cupped your bump as you melted at his words, “Keep growing strong. We love you.”

*Three days later*

It was around eight at night when you heard the door unlatch from where you were standing, at the stove. A hot meal was in progress for you both, simmering in the pot in front of you.

You smiled when you heard him let out a breath of relief to finally be home. You had gotten in a few hours earlier - yours and Chaeyoung's departing flight left before the boys'.

Jimin, still in the entryway, slipped his shoes off and grinned, shaking his head, "Are you cooking?"

"I am." you called back.

He appeared around the corner in shorts and a white t-shirt, with one of his quintessential black bucket hats on his head. Appropriate attire for this scalding September heat.

He took off his hat and let it sit on the island, "Smells amazing."

Then you felt his arms wrap around your middle. As had become a habit, his palms laid flat against your belly.

You hummed as you stirred, "Hi."

"Hi," he smirked, "How are you?"

"Hungry. How are you?"

His low chuckle sounded right by your ear, "Starving. Thanks for doing this. I was prepared to just order something."

"Isn't it nice having me around?" you teased.

Jimin's lips landed behind your ear, "It's a dream having you around, sweetheart...Is this one of your new shirts, by the way?"

It was. Prior to that dinner in LA, you had convinced Chaeyoung to go to the mall with you. You ended up returning home with far more clothing than you brought, all accommodating to your changing shape. The top you were currently wearing was a simple fitted t-shirt in a pretty mocha brown. The material was comparable to that of a yoga top, all soft and stretchy.

"Mhm." you replied.

"I love it. I got so used to seeing you in all these loose tops. Well, my tops. Now I get to see my woman get all nice and big.”

Your mouth went agape as your face turned red, “What a perverted thing to say.”

He smirked into your neck as he kissed you again, “What you deem as perverse is actually just a common thought for any man. And don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

Then he gave your ass a playful slap and went to get himself a glass of water.

While he was at the fridge, you continued to stir, “When will you guys get to see the final cut of the music video?”

“Eh,” he said as he put his glass under the water dispenser, causing it to run, “Usually takes weeks, if not months. But this one doesn’t use as many CGI effects, so it might be faster.”

“What would you guys need CGI for? That theatre was stunning.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I loved it. That was probably my favorite choreography we’ve ever done. And my favorite wardrobe.”

The uptick in his inflection made you break into a laugh, “You flatter me.”

“I mean it,” he gulped down some of the cold water, “It was extremely detailed and everything matched the feel of the song. Tell me, whose idea was it to put me and Jungkook in corsets?”

Again, you threw your head back and laughed, “That was Chae. But it was my idea to put you in the white suit.”

Jimin drew closer and leaned over the counter next to you, head propped up by his elbow as he watched you cook, “That was a brilliant choice, baby.”

Looking into the pot, you grinned with a feigned arrogance, “I’m aware. Here, taste this.”

You spooned up a sampling of the sauce and fed it to him. He smacked his lips together a couple times as he absorbed the flavor.

“Need anything?”

“Pinch more of salt.”

You nodded and took the salt shaker from the countertop on your right. You flipped it over and twisted to grind some of its contents into the pot. After giving it another stir, Jimin dipped his finger into the sauce and put it in his mouth.

“Mm,” he affirmed, “Perfect.”

The two of you ate together at the kitchen island. He got himself a bottle of soju from the fridge to take with dinner. When your plates were clean, he took the prerogative to do all the dishes.

“I’ll help you.” you said once he grabbed your plate.

“I’ve got it,” he replied assuredly, “Go shower or get in your pajamas or something.”

With that, he kissed your forehead and went to the sink, slinging one of the drying towels over his shoulder. To you, a warm shower sounded amazing.

You rose from the chair and paused, feeling a little lightheaded. It only lasted a couple of seconds, insignificant. Then you proceeded like normal out of the kitchen and into the bathroom for your rinse.

The water patting on your skin was a massage. You closed your eyes and simply let the droplets hit you for a few minutes, your head falling back. Breaths entered and then left your lungs slowly. It was all supposed to relax you, but instead your mind began to race. Your brain had time to spin, and the weight of it all pressed on your conscience.

You didn’t know when you’d speak to your parents again, or if.

You’d just come back from a successful weekend doing a job you truly loved, and your days working for the company were numbered.

The ex-girlfriend had reappeared.

Your pregnancy and relationship were causing a fracture in one of your boyfriend’s deepest friendships.

The most beautiful part of your life, your love with Jimin, was a like a glittering treasure kept hidden from the world, unable to blossom freely.

You were going to be a mother. A mother. A new person would be entering the world entirely dependent on you for survival and guidance. Ironically, this troubled you less than any of the other things.

You drew in a sharp, hitched breath, held it for a second, and blew it out.

*The next day*

“I just wanted to congratulate you on a successful trip. The producers applauded you and Chaeyoung with your punctuality and attention to detail.”

You were meeting with Sanghee, recapping the shoot.

“Thank you,” you nodded your head with a smile, “I’m so grateful you asked me to go.”

She was warmhearted, “Of course. You are one of the strongest on this team, Y/N. You’ve shown great promise in the time you’ve been here. It was about time you went on one of those trips. I’m sure there will be plenty more in your future. Plus, I wanted you to get a taste of what tour will be like.”

Your eyes got wider, as you hadn’t thought about that in a while, “Oh, right.”

She laughed, swiveling from side to side in her chair, “I know it feels like a long way off, but things move fast around here, as you’ve seen. While I’m at it, I wanted to plant the seed for you to begin thinking about how you’d like to allocate your time on the tour.”

You tilted your head to the side, “Sorry, I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Well, I know it would be extremely tough for you, being a new mom and all. You’d never be expected to be there for the first leg if you didn’t want to. I assumed you’d want to do short stints. But then again, I don’t know what your childcare plan looks like.”

“R-Right,” you sighed, “I will start thinking about all of that. Honestly, there’s a lot I need to work out still.”

Your boss laughed, “Yes, I can imagine. But please know we will be as flexible as we can. You’re valued here and we’d love for you to be there wherever you can make it work.”

It gave you some juice, to hear how wanted you were. A confidence booster was so needed at the moment.

“Thank you, Sanghee. That really means a lot to me.”

“Absolutely,” she crossed one leg over, before taking a sip of coffee from the self-heating mug on her desk, “So enough about work. How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing well,” your sigh was content this time as your hand glided over your new satin maternity blouse, “Started feeling little kicks. My blood pressure had been running a bit high, but other than that it’s good. I’m getting really excited to meet him or her.”

“Ah, my blood pressure was high too, when I was pregnant with my second. I was put on this one medication, I forget the name of it. But it saved me from going on bed rest.”

Your posture sank slightly, “My doctor warned me about bed rest, so I’m glad to hear there’s a medication for it that’s safe for pregnancy.”

Sanghee showed you a sympathetic grin, “Just keep drinking water and eat lots of yogurt. Avocados too, if you like them. They lower blood pressure.”

“I’ll give them a try.” you smirked.

“Good. Speaking of food, I’m heading out for lunch. There’s a new grill down the street that I’ve been dying to try. Care to join?”

Her praise and friendliness felt so good. You couldn’t help but want to please her by agreeing to tag along.

“Sure!”

Your boss stood from her chair and grabbed her large burgundy alligator skin purse, “Perfect. I know it’s hot out there, but are you okay to walk? I’m trying to get my steps in.”

You rose from your chair as well, “Yeah, that’s no…n-no problem…”

Your speech slowed as another wave of dizziness occupied your body. You blinked rapidly, trying to get a handle. There was a troubling lightness in your head. Your chest felt fuzzy.

“Y/N?” Sanghee walked around her desk and held your forearm.

You had a ten-mile stare. Your chest was rising and falling with depth as you wobbled. As your lids began to hang low, she took the initiative and forced you to sit back down in the chair.

Once sitting again, your wits returned. Embarrassed, you shook your head, “Sorry. I’m alright. Just kind of woozy. It’s been happening lately, mostly when I stand up.”

“Kind of woozy?” Sanghee laughed nervously, “You almost just passed out. Why don’t you head home for the rest of the day? Get some rest.”

“Oh, no I’m fine. I stood up too fast.”

“You just told me your blood pressure has been elevated. Now I’m not going to let one of my stylists pass out on my watch. Besides, there’s nothing super important going on today.”

You denied once more, “No really, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

Sanghee put her warm hands on your shoulders and gave you a stern smile, “I know you’re okay. I just want you to be cautious. You’re probably running on fumes from traveling. Go home, crawl into bed, and get a long nap in. I will find Chaeyoung and have her fill in for you with any small tasks.”

Begrudgingly, you agreed. You got to your feet much slower this time and took it easy as you thanked her and headed back into your office to get your things.

You closed the door behind you and proceeded to put your laptop in your bag, pulling out your phone as you did so.

It wasn’t something you wanted to do, but he would want to be kept informed. You texted Jimin to call you when he got the chance. It would have been your first choice to call him, but you didn’t know what he was up to at the moment and wouldn’t want to disturb.

You flicked off the lights and headed home.

Chaeyoung was on her way to the upper floors of the building. She was trying to locate one of the Managers to turn in her expense report for the trip to LA for reimbursement. Sanghee caught her hopping in the elevator and informed her of your early departure from the office.

As a friend, she worried for you. And that worry remained written on her face when she reached the floor she needed. She pitied you for having to balance so much.

A lack of attention was paid to her direction. When rounding a corner, she bumped into Namjoon. It was a rare occurrence. His studio was nearby, but hardly anyone saw the man when he worked in there. He would come to work and lock in for hours, sometimes even the whole day.

“Oh I’m so sorry!” she squeezed her eyes shut, mortified.

Having known her for a while, Namjoon thought it appropriate to pat her on the shoulder with a lighthearted chuckle, “No problem. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she huffed, “Only a little concerned for Y/N. Sanghee just sent her home. Apparently she almost fainted.”

His disquiet was genuine. With furrowed brows and a tilted head, he pressed for more information, “Oh shit. Just now?”

“Yeah,” your colleague sighed, clutching the expense report to her chest, “I hope she’s alright. I do worry about her sometimes.”

Namjoon nodded with a hum, “No one wants her to get hurt. I’m sure she’ll rest up and be fine, though. Good to see you, Chae.”

He barely heard her reply when he walked away somewhat briskly. It didn’t matter what had been going on behind the scenes - he just had to let him know.

He’d be in the gym right about now, getting some quick strength training in. Probably with Jungkook at his side.

He hustled down the stairwell because he knew he’d run into less people that way. When he finally reached the gym, his prediction proved true. Joking around while getting some reps in were Jimin and Jungkook.

The two caught him out of the corners of their eyes when they noticed him hurrying over. He wasn’t dressed in workout attire either, so they figured he wasn’t here to join them. Not that Jimin wanted him to.

Namjoon was a bit breathless.

“Hey,” Jungkook nodded his head upward, “Distraught?”

“I don’t know,” he looked at Jimin, “Maybe. I just bumped into Chaeyoung.”

In your boyfriend’s mind, her name was linked with yours. This had something to do with you - the pit in his gut told him as much.

His face softened, shoulders slumped. His voice carried a desperation, “Don’t drag it out, please. Just tell me.”

“Everything’s fine, I think,” Namjoon said more quietly, “But Y/N’s been sent home. Chae said she almost passed out in the office. I don’t know…I remembered the blood pressure thing and thought you’d want to know.”

Jimin went into action mode.

All reservations towards him were put aside. They had to be. Jimin didn’t enjoy it, but he uttered the words, “Thanks for letting me know. I have to go check on her.”

Hastily, he picked his phone up from the black padded bench.

“Shit,” he sighed, “She asked me to call her. I’ll let you guys know if I’ll be back, but I’m not sure.”

“Hope she’s alright.” Jungkook said.

Namjoon concurred, “Do what you have to do.”

Jimin and Namjoon made eye contact before he began to jog out of the gym. He retrieved his keys from his pocket as he hurried out of the building and into the private covered garage. His footsteps echoed in the spacious concrete structure as he came upon his vehicle.

While climbing into the driver’s seat, he called you.

The ignition started as he waited over the course of several rings to hear your voice.

“Hey,” you greeted him, “Slight mishap.”

It was a relief that you sounded fairly normal through the phone. Even still, your partner needed to hear the story from you.

“I know,” he said, his phone connecting to his car so he could speak with you as he drove, “Namjoon told me. And Chaeyoung told him.”

“So Sanghee told Chae,” you sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t actually faint, though. I just sort of…came close.”

He drove out of the garage and turned onto the street, “I’m making my way home. You there?”

“Y-Yes but Jimin please don’t leave work. It’s really nothing.”

“I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Before long, he came home to you. He found you in the living room, laying on the couch with a tall glass of water on the coffee table. You had changed from your work clothes to loungewear, embracing getting comfortable in the middle of the day.

You were in a position for sleep, but your eyes were sullen and awake. Jimin closed the door and you cringed, feeling like an utter inconvenience.

His voice sounded like he was in a hurry as he strided into the living room, “Hey. Hey baby.”

He sat on the edge of the sofa, “Are you okay? Tell me what happened.”

You broke into a sad smile as you propped yourself up into more of a sitting posture, “I was trying to explain that I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine, Jimin. You really didn’t need to fly all the way home.”

“Of course I did,” he batted that ludicrous statement away, “Top priority.”

His hand reached over to cup your left cheek and you looked down, taking hold of his wrist, “I appreciate it, but all that happened was that I stood up too quickly and got dizzy. That’s all.”

He chuckled to keep the mood up, but he found this anything but funny, “I’m glad you were sent home. A brief dizzy spell is okay and probably normal, but in your case it’s a bigger deal, baby. You don’t want me to be concerned, but you know I’m right. We need to watch this closely, hm?”

You brought your eyes back to his and nodded wordlessly.

Jimin gave you a half grin, “And knowing you, I’d be willing to bet that this isn’t the first dizzy spell you’ve had recently.”

Subconsciously, your lips pursed together. It was as though you were tucking them in so they wouldn’t spill the truth.

It was the all the response he needed.

He scooted closer to you and sighed, removing his warm, veiny hand from your face and placing it on your blooming tummy, “You’re not hard to figure out. What other instances have there been?”

You closed your eyes as you admitted, “Yesterday after dinner. Same thing, I stood up and it just hit me.”

His eyes were anxious, maybe even slightly hurt, “I need to know about these things, Y/N. It’s my job to make sure you’re both safe and healthy, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me know. This…It worries me. And it equally disturbs me that you aren’t telling me about it.”

You let it out, “I know. I-I’m sorry. God, I hate it when you’re right.”

Jimin’s low chuckle rang out as he leaned forward, kissing your lips softly. Then he withdrew a few inches from your face.

“Oh my love...” his voice trailed off, “I thought you knew that you’re my life. That I will always, always put you first.”

Your tone was meek, “I do.”

He kissed the tip of your nose, “You don’t, if you think you’re burdening me.”

You felt totally deflated. He knew your soul, your entire being. There was no concealing anything from this man.

Half of you wanted to call him a jerk for stripping you bare of any excuses, while the other half wanted to melt into his arms for being such a blessing in your life.

Your eyes came to glisten with fresh tears, but not enough for any to fall. Your lips twitched into a smile, “A burden? Me? Never.”

Another laugh broke from Jimin as he returned to an upright posture , “That’s right, sweetheart. Can I get you anything? Did you eat lunch?”

“Not yet,” you replied, “I was hoping to nap before I ate, but I’m kind of hungry now.”

“I’ll make you something. You just relax.”

He got up and proceeded off into the kitchen. You heard him opening and closing the cupboards, looking for a culmination of ingredients, humming a tune as he went about it,

“Avocado toast and some berries?” He called back to you, “Or do you need something bigger?”

“That should be good,” you approved, “Oh, and could you mash the lumps out of the avocado? Lately I can’t stand the chunky texture. And maybe a little more lime juice? Oh, and some onion? And salt?”

Jimin smirked as he sliced the green fruit open, then grabbing a spoon to take out the pit, “So I’m making guacamole and putting it on bread. Got it.”

You laughed in return, “If you don’t mind.”

You spent the next several minutes searching for something to watch on Netflix. When your doting boyfriend came back with a plate to set down on the coffee table, you sat up more to make room for him.

“Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad to make my girlfriend and baby some nutritious food.”

You didn’t hesitate to bite into the toast smeared with a creamy green spread, “Actually, Sanghee told me she had high blood pressure when she was pregnant. She said avocados help lower it.”

“Even better.” he pushed your hair behind your ear so he could see your satiated expression.

You hummed with contentment as you swallowed, “And she also said there’s a medication for it. Doctor Yoon didn’t mention that to us.”

Jimin sat back and stretched his arms high, preparing to fully settle in with you, “That’s good. Maybe we’ll give her a call then, ask about it. At the very least, your OBGYN should know about these spells.”

“I will later.”

“Promise?”

You rolled your eyes in a genial manner, “I prom- Oh!”

The hand that wasn’t holding your toast flew to your belly. With a mouthful of food, you had to try to keep it all in, “Hi, little baby.”

Jimin beamed, scrambling to sit back up, “Is she kicking??”

You giggled and nodded as you caught the slip of the tongue. He really did seem to know in his heart that this precious new life was a daughter.

“Where? I want to feel.”

“Here,” you guided his hand to the spot where you could feel the flutters on the inside, “But you won’t feel it from the outside. I couldn’t.”

He pouted briefly before kissing the spot, “That’s okay. You just keep getting stronger in there, then Daddy can feel you cause a ruckus.”

With a giggle, you popped a few berries into your mouth, “I’m sure it will happen soon enough.”

Jimin reached across your lap to pick a blueberry off your plate. He put it on his thumb and flicked it up, craning his head back to catch it in his mouth before leaning back to his original spot.

His focus turned to the TV screen, “So what are we watching?”

You gave him your confused gaze, “Um, don’t you need to go back to work?”

“I can miss one dance practice,” he assured you, “And it’s been a while since I’ve had a day off. Don’t you want to sit here all day and be unproductive with me?”

You laughed, “I suppose I do. Though we could actually do something we’ve been meaning to do and start talking about what we want to name this munchkin.”

He mulled it over for a moment, unable to prevent his tight, half smirk from forming, “Hm…we could…Alright, why not? Do you have a girl or boy name you’ve always loved?”

As you finished your toast, you shrugged, “I have plenty of names I like, but for some reason none of them feel good enough now. Here, let’s look at the book Chaeyoung gave me. It should be on the side table next to you.”

“Ah,” he murmured as he stretched his arm behind him, “Got it. Okay, let’s see…Are we doing boy names or girl names first?”

*3 weeks later*

It took what seemed like forever to get everyone's schedules to align, but the group was finally getting together with all of the girlfriends. Originally, the plan was to go to Jin's place, but the guys were itching to see what your apartment looked like after the move.

You were in the middle of doing your makeup at your vanity, sitting on a comfy cream-colored pouf. Your guests would be arriving in a little over an hour, so time was of the essence.

Jimin entered the bedroom after prepping everything for dinner, taking off his shirt so he could shower fast.

“Everything’s chopped up and ready to go,” he said, “Kimchi is in the fridge too.”

“Got it, thank you.” you replied as you finished swiping mascara on your lashes, twisting the cap back on the tube.

He came over to peck you on the top of your head without a second thought, making you smile. When he turned around, he stripped the rest of his clothes. You watched his reflection in your vanity. The lighting in the room was perfect to show the contours of his body, all the parts where his frame would curve and then cave with muscle tone.

His natural dark hair was back, and it was getting long. It swept along the back of his neck, right above the crescent part of his moon phases tattoo.

He had gradually gotten leaner from all the stress. Nothing too concerning, since he was still eating and exercising a healthy amount, but it was noticeable to you. His jawline became sharper, and that was always a key tell when he was losing weight.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” you said.

Surprising yourself, you weren't the slightest bit nervous. It was long overdue, and you could finally speak to women who were going through the same thing as you - dating a member of BTS in secret.

He glanced back at you, “So am I. I want you to be close to them. They're family."

"I completely agree..." you saw the perfect opportunity to bring up a still ongoing topic, "Which makes me wonder, where are you with Namjoon lately? I haven't seen him since the hotel in LA."

Jimin put his dirty clothes in the hamper and mumbled, "It's better."

"That's it? Just 'better'?"

He let out an irritated sigh, "Yeah. We haven't clashed in any way. And he's...actually sort of, well, been kind recently."

You smirked, "Those words taste like vinegar coming out of your mouth or something?"

He disappeared into the bathroom, "Yes, they do."

You closed your eyes and let out a breath, calling after him, "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset. But I'm relieved that you're starting to see what I meant that night when he left the hotel room. He was only ever trying to be a good friend to you, Jimin. And I think he's realizing that he was wrong. You should make amends."

You heard a tiff from him, “I’m not quite ready for that. Even though our relationship hasn’t been as rocky, he never formally apologized.”

“Must he come on bended knee to be forgiven?”

The shower turned on, making it more difficult to hear him, but what you thought you heard was, “Yeah. He does. He came after you and tried to label you a terrible person. He insulted me too, telling me that I think with my dick. He went out of his way time and time again to separate us by trying to make me question my love for you. It’s not something I’m just going to write off. He needs to apologize for all of it.”

“And would you forgive him if he did?”

There was no response - only water droplets pattering on the shower floor.

“…Jimin?” your tone was hesitant now.

He huffed, “Yeah?”

“Remember when we were talking about all the bitterness aimed at Seoyeon? How it would only hurt you to let your anger linger?”

You heard an ironic chuckle echo from the bathroom, “Are you going to tell me to forgive her too?”

“No,” you said, “I am asking you to forgive your brother. Don’t let this grudge last. It will only cause you pain in the end. And besides, unlike Seoyeon, Namjoon is a good person at his core. You know that. And deep down, I think you know he only wanted to protect you. You just said it yourself - you're family."

Once more, you didn't get a response. This time, you decided to drop it. There were things to be done to finish preparing for dinner.

About an hour later, Yoongi and Taehyung were the first to arrive. Jimin, in fresh clothes and a seemingly improved mood, let them in as you set the table for a party of eleven.

From the other room, you heard them enter and gasp.

"Damn," Taehyung laughed boisterously, "Color? In Jimin's apartment? This is insane."

"Yeah, for once it doesn't feel all cold and empty." Yoongi remarked with his famous monotone, "Guess you need to keep Y/N around."

You smiled with pride as you arranged the bowls and plates. The guys rounded the corner into the dining room and you greeted them warmly, “Hey guys!”

“Good to see you,” Taehyung smiled, “We love how you brightened up the place.”

You chuckled, “I was eavesdropping. Thanks.”

Jimin put his hands up in puzzlement, “Apparently I lived in a dungeon before you moved in.”

“Can we do anything to help?” asked Yoongi.

"No, but thank you," you said, "Go get comfortable. Have a drink, chat. I'm going to start cooking in a bit."

Your boyfriend put his arm around your waist and pointed to the bar area, at the other end of the dining room, "There's wine, whiskey, soju, beer, take whatever you want."

The two made their way over to the bar to fix themselves a drink. You looked at Jimin with confused eyes and leaned to the side to whisper to him, "Shouldn't you pour their drinks? You're hosting."

"They don't require the etiquette." he smirked down at you.

Then his hand traveled down to your ass. He squeezed it gently, making your posture straighten.

"But I required a moment to tell you how gorgeous you look," his raspy mutter filled your eardrums, "I really can't get enough of these new clothes, showing off my baby so well."

The man had balls, daring to flirt with you when you had so much else to do. You knew that snake-like, charming tone like no other. Well, if he wanted to toy with you tonight, then you'd play along.

You cocked a brow, "So complimentary, and you haven't even seen the full collection."

He hummed in your ear, "What else did you buy? Something just for me, sweetheart?"

Your cheeks flushed and you didn't want him to see it, so you removed yourself from him and strolled into the kitchen with nonchalance, "Bold of you to assume such a thing."

Jimin bit the inside of his cheek as he watched you leave his side. He loved how you could simply decide to throw his game right back in his face. This was the type of fun the two of you always had, from the very beginning. The push and pull, with a solid foundation underneath it.

Soon, everyone else trickled in. You were introduced to Hana, Yunhee, and Aejun. They were Namjoon’s, Hoseok’s, and Jin’s girlfriends respectively. You’d seen them around a few times, but weren’t supposed to know who they were, so you were never introduced.

All three were as kind as could be. Within moments of their arrival, they were helping you in the kitchen, giving the members their “guy time”.

Yunhee, lanky with hair dyed a strawberry blonde, was stirring the rice for you, “So tell us how it’s been, Y/N. I mean, we’ve all heard about you for a while now.”

You laughed it off - it was a question that warranted a thousand answers.

"Oh, I'm okay. A lot of it has been hard, but as far as we know we have a healthy baby on the way and we're excited."

"You look adorable!" gushed Aejun, a short, slightly curvier woman with these large, doe-like eyes, "How many weeks?"

"Almost twenty-four," you said while filling up a water pitcher for the table, "It's flying by, even though we've had some difficulty. Bumps in the road."

Hana's voice was gentler and compassionate. Her cadence reflected that of her boyfriend, "Look, we can all be friends. And we're all women here. You can be honest."

You smiled somewhat bashfully, and then it faded, "Alright, it's been more than bumps in the road. I've been so stressed lately that it's manifested into high blood pressure. I had to get on medication for it, which has been helping with the light-headed spells, but not the stress and I still...I just wish this could all feel more normal."

Yunhee gave you a sullen, sympathetic look, "We know exactly what you mean. It sucks, having to love someone and hide it all the time. It's a price all four of us pay to be with them."

Hana gave her some glasses to take over and put at each place setting. She left the kitchen momentarily.

The three women knew about the things you weren't sharing. They heard it from their boyfriends, who heard it from Jimin at one point or another. It was a mutual decision not to press you, especially during their first real encounter with you.

Aejun smirked, "Hey, we each get our return on investment, don't we?"

Hana's reaction of hitting her shoulder with a giggle confirmed that it was intended as a dirty joke. You laughed too.

Yunhee returned from the dining room, "Anything else I can take. Y/N?"

"No, you're good. Thanks so much for helping, guys."

"Of course!" Hana batted your praise away.

Yunhee added, "Also, before I forget, you should join us for our little dinner date. Once a week, we all grab dinner somewhere in the city just to hang out, let off steam."

"Oh yes, you should definitely come along," Aejun nodded, "It's been great for us to be around people who understand, you know? You're in this little circle now, so it's essentially mandatory."

Her humor was dry, like Jin's.

You giggled, "I'd love to."

In the other room, the guys could hear your muffled laughter. Jimin kept glancing back in the direction of the kitchen with a grin, relieved that you seemed to be hitting it off. To hear your beautiful giggle ring out with other women was like a gift to him. Perhaps new friendships could help ease this entire situation for you.

“Guess they’re best friends now.” Hoseok chuckled before nursing from the rocks glass in his hand.

“That’s no bad thing,” your boyfriend sighed happily, letting his head rest fully on the back of the couch, “This has been a missing piece for Y/N since we got together.”

“Imagine ten years into the future,” Jim said, “We all have wives and kids running around, and we do things like this where we get together. The women cook the dinner and we do the dishes after, while our kids play hide and seek or something.”

“Jesus, Jin,” Yoongi looked somewhat terrified, “Getting ahead of ourselves there, aren’t we? Half of us aren’t even seeing anyone.”

“What? I like the sentiment.” he defended the picture.”

Jimin’s soft grin appeared as he envisioned the same thing, moving his hand in a small circle to swirl the drink in his glass, “No, I like it too.”

Taehyung was sitting next to him and gave him a nudge, glancing to the side to make sure none of the ladies heard him. He lowered his volume, “And speaking of wives, do we hear wedding bells for you and Y/N anytime soon?”

He wasn’t expecting to be asked that question, but it was a natural one to ask. Not that he was bothered by it.

With a cheeky grin, Jimin clinked their glasses together.

He closed the door behind them on their way out. When it was just the two of you again, you both looked at one another and laughed a little.

You put your hands on your cheeks, “Oh my gosh, my face aches from smiling so much.”

“Mine too,” he said, “Sorry about the drinking at the end. I hope you didn’t feel left out.”

You started back into the living room, “Not at all. I think you guys are hilarious when you drink.”

He followed you, “We will have to do that again. I think you’ll have Jungkook crawling back for your bulgogi alone.”

You smirked, bending over the coffee table to pick up stray glasses, “I will cook for them anytime.”

“Must we do more dishes?” Jimin pouted.

You could decipher by his inflection that he was feeling a little buzzed.

“Yes,” you laughed, handing him a few, “Otherwise we will have to do them in the morning, and I hate doing that.”

You each had four glasses to carry into the kitchen. You put them all next to the sink and began to hand wash them. They could have been put in the dishwasher, but you were more particular with glassware. You liked to make sure they came out looking perfectly clean and shiny.

At this stage in gestation, you were unable to lean over the sink like you used to. Your belly met the edge of the counter, so you needed to perform the task with your arms stretched further.

Jimin rested his chin on your shoulder, “You don’t look comfortable doing that.”

“Then you take my place.” you laughed, turning your head his way.

He kissed your cheek, “I’d rather not.”

Then his lips found the sensitive bit of skin, where the corner of your jaw met your neck. You felt an eager pit form in your stomach and tilted your head slightly, giving him just a tiny bit more access.

“And what would you rather do?”

“I’d rather see the rest of the collection.”

You giggled, “You’re still hung up on that from earlier?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re assuming it’s lingerie?”

“I’m not assuming,” his voice was like honey, “I know it is. Let me see what you picked out for me, baby. Dishes can wait.”

He brought his pelvis further into you, so you could feel him stiffening. He kept kissing your neck, his hands wrapping around your growing middle.

“You wanna know what I read the other day?” he asked with a rasp, “A great way to reduce stress is to orgasm.”

You finally set the glass down at the bottom of the sink, “You’re really trying everything to get into my pants, aren’t you?”

He chuckled in the manner he knew would do you in, “Keep acting like you aren’t desperate to take a load of my cum. Like you don’t want me to make you squirm.”

You pushed the envelope even further, your body heating up, “You’re just tipsy and horny.”

Jimin took control of your hips, moving them side to side against his bulging crotch, “I’m offering you a reward, sweetheart.”

“A reward?”

“For being the perfect hostess tonight. For making me a baby. For being the love of my life.”

The love of his life.

He’d never called you that before. Maybe he was just under the influence, but it had you overflowing with love and desire.

“Well then,” you turned around with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I guess I should go get changed.”

He laughed, “I knew it was lingerie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you kissed him deeply, “You got me all figured out.”

He ended up sitting on the bed, waiting for you to appear from the bathroom in whatever racy little thing you had prepared.

The door opened slowly, revealing you in a cherry red babydoll. The whole thing was lace with a matching thong underneath. The fabric split like a curtain around your belly.

Jimin looked like he wanted to devour you, eyes dark with ardor, pupils blown out.

Your voice was soft and sultry, “Do you like it?”

“Come sit,” he leaned back, “Let me see you up close.”

You padded over to him and lifted one leg after the other, straddling him. Your bump grazed against his torso. Jimin let out a hum that sounded more like a growl as he caressed your thighs.

"Look at that," he whispered, playing with the delicate lace between his fingers as he kissed your breasts, "All dressed up for me. All mine,"

He was bulging, but not fully hard yet. You reinforced yourself by putting your hands on his knees, slowly gliding your hips forward, back, and forward again. You wanted to make him weak.

"Yeah baby," Jimin cupped your ass and squeezed, "Get my cock nice and hard."

You released a soft moan, the friction exciting your bud. The sound of your pleasure accomplished your goal.

“You get to choose how you get fucked tonight.” he smirked, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear so he could press his lips to yours.

You giggled into the kiss, “Is that my reward?”

“One of them,” he said, “You get three.”

“What are the other two?”

“Getting to cum, and receiving mine.”

You moaned into another passionate kiss before whispering exactly what you wanted.

It wasn’t what he was expecting to hear, but it delighted him nonetheless. Before going any further, his eyes softened, taking him out of the blinding lust for a moment, “Are you sure that won’t be too much for you?”

You resumed grinding your hips back and forth against his member, “I couldn’t be more sure…Daddy.”

And he was back, eyes filled with fervor. He spanked you, played with your ass cheeks in his hands, “You want to ride Daddy’s cock, baby? Show Daddy what you can do.”

You smirked as you got off his lap for a moment, giving him time to remove his bottoms. He scooted over to the head of the bed, laying flat on his back. He may have had the dominant nickname, but you were going to make him desperate one way or another.

You crawled back onto the bed seductively, “Should I get naked too, Daddy?”

“No, let me marvel at you in this for a while longer,” he said, cock straight in the air with precum leaking from the reddened tip, “I fucking love how it shows off your belly.”

His pregnancy kink was going to be the death of him. You chose to exploit that.

“Yeah, Daddy?” you swung your leg back over his frame, sitting on his cock but not granting him access just yet, “How does it look this way?”

He let out an exasperated, charged breath, hands on either side of your bump, “You look divine, sweetheart. So beautiful for me, making my child.”

You moved your hips on him again, letting him feel the magnitude of your wetness. It swayed the power back to him.

“Look at you, dripping all over Daddy’s cock.”

You pushed the g-string to the side. In one go, you lifted your hips, positioned him, and sat fully back down. He filled you to the hilt, both of you letting out moans.

You began to bounce up and down the shaft, setting a steady rhythm. Even better, your clit rubbed against his base each time you went down, delivering the perfect amount of pressure.

He looked like a dream beneath you, chin tilted up towards the ceiling with his plump lips parted, releasing low grunts. His brows were scrunched down as he searched to find the resolve not to ram up into you. His veiny hands were gripping your ass so hard you thought you might bruise.

Jimin’s siren eyes bore the sight of you from an angle so deliciously erotic - the woman he loved, round with his child, riding his cock. Your breasts bobbing up and down.

“Shit,” he groaned, “So fucking hot, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“S-So good, Daddy,” you mewled, “I wanna go faster.”

“You can go faster, sweetheart,” he gave your ass a slap, “Make yourself feel good. Show Daddy how hard you can cum.”

As you picked up your pace, Jimin devoted his fingers to the service of your femininity, rubbing you.

You whined and put one hand on his chest. Knowing he’d go crazy for it, you dug your nails in and scratched down his sternum. He threw his head back and inhaled a hiss.

“Ah, fuck!”

You wore a smirk amid the building pleasure, “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“Play nice, baby. Or I’ll bend you over and fuck your brains ou- Shit!”

Your pace sped up even more, your cunt enveloping him repeatedly. His tip was kissing your cervix.

“What were you saying, Daddy?” you panted.

Jimin gritted his teeth, “You’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you mewled, “I’m enjoying my reward.”

He unleashed a frustrated groan, “Good, because it’s the last time I’m giving you one.”

You half laughed, half moaned. He hadn’t stopped rubbing your clit, delivering wave after wave, coating his dick in more of your arousal. The sound produced was lewd.

“Jimin…”

He knew you were getting close, “Come on, baby. Let me see you make a mess all over my cock.”

“N-No,” you whimpered, “I don’t want to cum yet.”

He smirked, and removed his hand from your clit, “As you wish.”

Without warning, he grabbed your wrists and pulled you forward, freeing his hips to thrust up into you. He bucked up into your confines with a battering speed.

You lost any trace of superiority. All dominance fell to him in an instant. Now you were in purgatory, feeling a euphoric sensation without that bundle in your stomach.

“My turn, baby," he taunted, "Just stay still like a good girl and take it. Fuck. Such a tight little cunt. Makes me wanna fill you with more of my babies."

The thought had you moaning in a way that made you grateful the walls were completely soundproof. He was rutting into you from below, his trained, flexible dancer hips being put to good use. With every thrust, your body was shuffled forward, your lace-covered breasts dangling over his face.

"You're such a perfect mother, sweetheart. Already making milk to feed our baby. Shit, I'm getting close."

You took advantage of this short moment of weakness to sit upright, back to your original position. Jimin tried to keep pounding into you out of his own volition, but it was to no avail. The shift made it impossible to move the way he wanted to.

He huffed, "Baby, move. Please.”

Amidst your panting, a soft grin grew on your face, "I always get to cum first, though.”

“Fuck,” he breathed in sexual frustration and rapture, “You want my fingers again? Can you handle Daddy’s fingers this time?”

You nodded eagerly, “I can handle it.”

Jimin flashed you an arrogant grin after biting the inside of his cheek, “You want to cum, then start riding me again, baby.”

“Fine, but you can’t move your hips this time,” your fingertips gently traced the red scratch marks on his chest, “You have to leave it all to me.”

He opened his mouth to say something smart - you could tell by what his eyes carried. To shut him up, you bounced on him once, making him moan loudly.

Seeking revenge, he began to rub your clit again, coating his fingers in a slick of your juices and his precum. Your head dipped back as he brought you closer to the stars, resuming a steady pace on his cock.

“Act tough all you want, baby,” he grunted, “You’ll always melt under my touch like this. Don’t ever forget who you belong to.”

The pleasure was too great for your pride to care. You mewled out for him, “Faster!”

The circles on your bud became rapid. You moaned every time you sank back down on his member, chasing your orgasm until you snapped a few seconds later.

You clenched and spasmed around him, halting your movements as you were jolted with a love-made current. Jimin let you ride it out, enthralled by the sight of you experiencing the height.

When you came down, you opened your eyes and put one hand on his chest, the other back on his thigh. Pushing your afterglow aside for now, you wanted to make him come undone like it was the first time.

Stabilizing yourself, you rode him as hard as you could. Jimin didn’t expect it. Your orgasms usually took so much energy from you. You bounced mercilessly.

His eyes drained of any cheekiness. He was fully under your control one last time, entranced by the way his cock was repeatedly disappearing into your warmth. He was totally at your whim, hands cupping your ass and feeling it jiggle slightly with every contact between your cunt and his base.

He moaned in a way you rarely heard.

“Y/N!”

Not yet satisfied, you pushed the envelope even further, “Are you gonna give me a nice big load, Daddy?”

“Yeah,” his cheeks were tinged pink at this point, “Gonna spill my seed into you, baby. Fuck, keep going.”

Thighs starting to exhaust themselves, you kept it up.

“Right there, baby…Right there…Fuck, keep doing that. I’m cumming.”

His semen flooded into you, a throaty groan escaping his lips. His neck craned back into the pillow as his hips and legs jerked, an uncontrollable mechanism as his balls emptied.

“God, baby….”

As both of you labored to breathe, gravity caused his white material to begin leaking out of you almost immediately, coating both of you in it.

You smiled through your panting, relaxing, “Thank you for my reward.”

A low chuckle rumbled through him, “You’re something else. Fuck, I’m so tired now.”

“Me too,” you giggled, “Though I think I might be stuck here.”

You were only half kidding. It took more effort than you were used to in order to hoist yourself off him. Your hips were aching, but the walk to the bathroom helped them readjust.

Your spent boyfriend followed you, hair matted and messed up on the back of his head.

His forearm was pressed against the door frame and he leaned on it, watching you tidy yourself up, “Can you wear that again soon?”

“I can…” you ran a brush through your hair, “If you’d rather not see the other things I bought.”

Jimin raised a brow as he made the few paces over to you, “Oh, there’s more?”

His lips started attacking your collarbone, forcing a squeal from you.

When both of you had cleaned up, you crawled into bed. As was the norm for him, especially now, he rolled over to spoon you. He said it helped him sleep, knowing his love and his child were safe in his arms.

“Goodnight.” you yawned.

“Night,” he lazily kissed your hair, “I love you. So so much.”

“I love you too, Jimin.”

*The next day*

He was awake at seven in the morning, stirred out of his sleep by the continuous buzzing on his phone.

Eyes hardly able to open, he reached to his nightstand and tapped the screen, revealing a steady stream of new messages popping up.

It was his group chat with the members, blowing up in a panic. At first, none of the texts made sense:

“How could she do this?”

“This is going to be a nightmare.”

“Jimin, are you okay?”

“Let us know what we can do for you guys.”

He scrolled up to the beginning of the conversation, which made his heart stop. It was a link to an article, with a thumbnail that pierced his soul with a burning fury.

This couldn’t be happening.

His head felt fuzzy, vision not yet fully adjusted. His nerves skyrocketed as he left the bed, still being mindful not to wake you. Once he left the bedroom, he allowed his body to move more according to his emotions - frantically.

He was moving about the living room and dining room, pacing yet feeling frozen.

Then he had an incoming call. Oddly, the contact name didn’t perturb him. In a crisis, this was the name he trusted, even after everything that had happened between them.

“Namjoon,” he answered, voice hoarse and panicked, “What the fuck is that? Is it real?”

“Did you click on the link?”

“No,” he replied, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I-I don’t think I want to. Just tell me if that’s a real article.”

The other end was silent for a moment. He could hear Namjoon take a deep breath, “It’s real. I’m so sorry.”

Jimin felt like he could have died. He wanted to rip up the flooring and crawl underneath it, encasing him from the world.

“Holy shit…” he felt detached from everything, “Fuck, what do we do? What do I do? Y/N can't see this."

"She's going to," he said with all the sympathy in the world, "You can't keep it from her."

"No, no...I...I don't understand. I don't- fuck! Why?! Who did this?! Was it her?!"

"No one knows," Namjoon kept his tone even, "But we will figure it out, alright?"

His tongue dripped poison, "I swear to fucking God, if she's behind this, I'll-"

"Jimin?..." your voice was quiet as you emerged from the bedroom. He'd woken you up, having not fully shut the door when he left your side moments prior. You were tying your white fluffy robe around your center, eyes squinting slightly.

He looked at you like a deer in headlights, "I'll call you back, hyung."

He hung up, tossing his phone onto the couch.

You were becoming more alarmed by the second, watching your boyfriend self-soothe gliding his hands over his face and into his hair.

"What's going on?"

"Come sit," he said, "We have a situation."

Your gut twisted as you slowly went to sit down beside him. Jimin took your hands, angling his body to face you directly. He brought your cold hands up to his lips, kissing them.

"I need you to know that I love you," his morning voice was unstable, "I love you a-and we will be okay. We can get through anything together."

You turned your head a little, concerned eyes never leaving his, "You're scaring me..."

He held your hands firmly and set them on his lap, "There's an article. A big one, from a big publication. About the baby...but they think it's me and Seoyeon. They think I'm her baby's father."

#jimin x reader #bts #angst #fanfic #jimin #park jimin #romance #bts fanfic #bts fic #jimin smut #pregnant #preggo kink #jimin fanfic #jimin angst #bts angst #bts smut

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nereidprinc3ss · 1 day ago

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you’re my best friend

in which spencer reid has to teach your young son how to make friends nicely after a day at the park gone awry

fluff!! warnings/tags: fem!reader, husband!spencer yum, boy dad spencer enters the nereidprinc3ss cinematic universe!!!! yayyy!! but you still have a baby daughter as well, Spencer would 100% give his children old people names I'm sorry, gentle parenting Spencer my beloved a/n: I really miss spring its my favorite season so I found this draft that feels very springy and it makes me very happy also.. the name... like queen... also this is old so its probably not winning a pulitzer

The sun beats down just shy of hot on the sheath of fresh grass where you and Spencer are comforting your crying son—the ground beneath your blanket is a lush, verdant carpet, still cool with springtime rain but not wet.

All of this pleasantry is lost on your son Oliver. He’s too focused on the scraped knee he sustained when he got pushed over on the wood chips. Marianne, your baby girl, is gurgling happily in her little bassinet next to you. Whoever said raising girls was harder had obviously never met the Reid siblings. Oliver is a drama queen—something you suspect he inherited from his father.

“See? All better,” your husband is saying, wedding band glinting as gold as the curls that fall to his eyes as he smooths a bandaid over Oli’s wound. Seeing him like this never gets old.

Oli’s crying chokes to a confused halt.

“It still hurts,” he complains.

“I’m sorry, buddy. But you shouldn’t’ve pushed.”

“I wanted to be her f-friend,” Oli says, his sweet little bow lips (all Spencer) beginning to pout again.

Your husband wipes Oliver’s already teary cheeks gently. “I know, but she didn’t know that. Not everybody likes to be pushed, even when you’re playing, because it’s kinda mean, isn’t it?”

“I was not being mean.”

“Do you push all your friends?”

“Sometimes,” Oliver says stormily. Spencer gives him a knowing look.

“Are you sure you didn’t push her just because she’s a girl?”

Little shoulders raise and drop heavily. Guilty.

“I know it’s sometimes hard to make friends with girls, but they generally don’t like being pushed. Not anymore than boys do. Maybe even less.”

“Then how do I make friends with them?”

Spencer considers this.

“Well… how do you usually make friends?”

“I ask if they wanna play.”

“Sounds like you already know how to make friends with girls, then. That’s all you have to do.”

“How did you be friends with mommy?” Oli asks, bunching the blanket in his little hand. You smile to yourself.

Spencer’s eyes flash up to you for only a second, his lips parted in what only you would recognize to be amusement.

“I was super nice to her. Me and mommy are really good friends, right?”

Oliver nods dutifully.

“Do you know why?”

A shake of his little curly head, this time.

“Because when you’re nice to someone, it usually makes them want to be your friend. Not always. But you have a much better chance that way. If I pushed mommy the first time we met, I don’t think we’d be here today.”

Your lips flatten to zip in a laugh. To Oliver, this is a very serious matter. To you, too. It’s important that he grows up to treat people well.

“Why not?”

Spencer dodges the question smoothly.

“Why don’t you try going to apologize to her? She might not want to talk to you, and that’s okay. But if you say you’re sorry, maybe you guys can play nicely together.”

This determines the already willful Oliver, who pushes up clumsily before running down the knoll on his short legs and approaching the swing set where his earlier assailant now plays alone. He stops far enough away that he can make a break for it if she gets a fixing to push him again. Smart boy.

You and Spencer observe the interaction carefully, and while you can’t hear what’s being said, things seem to go well. Soon they’re making their way to the little kid’s playground in tandem.

“Super nice, huh?”

“I really wanted to be your friend,” Spencer counters, scooting closer to Marianne’s bassinet. “Hi, angel,” he coos, demeanor instantly softening as he strokes her soft cheek. You can’t help smiling. The look in his eyes is truly something to behold. “God, I’m never gonna get over how much she looks like you.”

You preen and try to hide it. “You can’t possibly know that yet. Her skeletal structure is far from fully developed.”

“Uh oh,” Spencer says to Marianne, offering her a quarter of a strawberry from a Tupperware. “Mommy is starting to sound like me. Is that scary, or what?”

Marianne cackles and burbles and takes the fruit with her little clutching fingers, only missing her mouth the first time she tries to eat it.

“You’re so good at this,” you murmur thoughtlessly. The moment Oliver was born he’d been a natural. Earlier, even. You saw it in his eyes the second you tearfully told him you were pregnant. He’s a man of many gifts—and that extends to the way he parents.

His gaze turns to you, still just as soft, but more knowing, on you. It’s comforting, to be known and seen and loved like that.

“Couldn’t do it without you.”

“Corny,” you tease.

He shuffles on his knees to be closer to you. “Biologically factual.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you into him with an arm and presses a firm kiss to your head.

“Have I told you how much I appreciate you recently?” He murmurs into the quiet dark against your temple, shielded from the spring sun.

You’re melting in his hold, the way you always do. “Mhm.”

“Good. There’s nobody I’d rather be super nice to.”

You breathe him in—feel the rush of happy chemicals flood your brain.

“What if I pushed you?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” he asserts, pulling back and framing your face between his hands.

“But if I did.”

He regards you with narrowed eyes.

“Why? Am I in trouble?”

“Maybe.” But you say it too coyly. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“I’d forgive you,” Spencer murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “But if you want to be my friend, you can just ask, lovely.”

One more quick peck, and he’s situating himself to lay his head in your lap once more. You slide his sunglasses on for him once he’s settled, and he catches your hand, kissing your knuckles. Your lips twist.

“You make it so hard to want to push you. I need you to be mean.”

He laughs.

“Too bad. I like being nice to you.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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sacr1ficialang3l · 1 day ago

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Can you read my mind? (I've been watching you.) 𓆩♡𓆪

DEAN WINCHESTER X CUPID!READER

SUMMARY: Dean and Sam get a little unexpected help with a weird case. 2.3k

WARNINGS: none. first meeting. fem!reader. dean being wary of the supernatural but weak to a pretty face.

NOTES: VERY late valentine's post. I was struck with inspiration at 2 in the morning. Idk if Valentines are a thing or if i made them up but whatever. This is my first time writing for supernatural and my first time writing a fanfic in years pls be nice. Enjoy<3

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You sigh as you materialize behind the brothers, making them almost jump out of their skin. “Love all over the place.”

You ignore their flabbergasted expressions as you look around the crowded plaza. It was Valentine’s day, and the whole place was decorated with pink and red hearts, the white streamers hanging from the trees moving with the breeze as couples and groups of friends walked around.

“Who are you?” You ignore the shorter one’s question as your gaze focuses on two kids sitting on a bench.

You could feel how much they liked each other, but they sat facing opposite ways, hands on laps and eyes stuck to the ground. You sigh and swiftly move your manicured hand towards them, pink nails shining under the sunlight. You can feel the brothers’ wary eyes on you, but you simply watch as the boy on the bench suddenly gets a notification on his phone.

“I just won two tickets for the My Chem show tonight.” He announces to the girl, voice incredulous. As they both start celebrating, the boy shyly looks up and invites her to go with him. She says yes, and after a few giggles and babbled words, they get up from the bench and leave.

You can’t help the little squeak that comes out of your mouth, your pastel pink wavy hair bouncing as you give a little jump. You immediately turn to the Winchester brothers, covering your mouth with your hand

“Sorry. You would think that after so many years on the job I would get used to it.” You sigh, twirling a lock of your hair with your fingers. “But sometimes it still manages to make me all giddy.”

You turn around just to find a gun being pointed towards you, barrel pressed to your stomach as green eyes bore holes into your head. Who you assumed was Dean Winchester was glaring at you, scowling, while his brother tried to block civilians from noticing the firearm in his hand.

Who would’ve thought green could be so beautiful.

You chuckle, not intimidated at all, which only made the brothers look even more confused.

“What the fuck are you?” Dean asks, the gun digging a little deeper into your skin.

“Are you Cupid?” This time it is Sam, his eyes studying your tiny pink dress, pink hair, and pink boots. But more importantly, the little bow and arrow that hung from your back.

You give the tall guy a cheeky smile.

“You must be Sam, hm? I’ve heard you’re the smart one.” You look back at Dean, delicate hand wrapping around the gun that was still being pressed against you. “Why don’t we put this away before you hurt someone.” You keep your eyes on him as you lower the gun. He lets you, a lost look on his face as to why he is letting you.

You take a step back and smile again, all rosy cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. “To answer your question, I guess you can call me a cupid, but I’m not the Cupid.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Dean’s eyes roam up and down your body.

“We’ve met Cupid before.” Comes Sam’s explanation. “So, you work for him? Are you an angel?”

You hum softly, pouty lips pursing. “I don’t work for the Cupid you met, the angel. But you humans also call my boss that.” The brothers’ expressions stay equally clueless. “I work for Eros, the-”

“Greek god of love.” You send Sam a sweet smile for his right answer.

“And desire, yes!”

“So you’re a Goddess.” Dean affirms more than asks, and when you turn back to face him you are struck with his beauty once again. Both brothers were drop-dead gorgeous, but something about the sharpness in the older one’s features made you want to ask if he was in any way related to Lady Aphrodite.

“Oh, no. Gods no.” You shake your head, making the multiple silver jewelry in your ears clink. “We work for Eros. Think about us like a version of Artemis’ hunters.”

“Yeah, because that gives me so much clarity.” Dean’s voice was breathtakingly deep, it reminded you of being in Lord Ares’ presence. (Happened once, never again.)

“Gods are incredibly powerful, but they often need help from mortals to do certain deeds. Artemis’ hunters, Hecate’s priests and priestess, so on and so forth.” You explain quickly. Sam seemed to understand you perfectly, Dean still looked a bit like he wanted to shoot you. “We don’t have an official name like that, but you can call us Valentines.”

“So you, what? Go around making people fall in love?” He asks with skepticism. You sigh. Everyone always had the same wrong idea.

“We don’t make people fall in love, we simply… present them with opportunities.” You chuckle and turn to look around the plaza, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you try to look for an example. You find a blond guy who was messing around with his friends near an ice cream shop. Right behind him, a girl in roller skates was moving his way.

“See those two?” I ask the brothers, pointing towards the pair. “If I didn’t intervene, they would never cross paths. But their auras, they are compatible, and they’re both lonely.” You squint, concentrating. Aura reading wasn’t as easy as fake witches made it seem. “But if I just…” Once again, you move your hand delicately towards them.

Suddenly, Blond Boy's friend's milkshake falls to the ground. It causes Blond Boy to take several steps back, getting right in Roller Skates Girl’s way. She immediately tries to stop, but it makes her lose her balance. Blond Boy’s hands are instantly on her waist, preventing her from falling on her back. They look at each other, eyes lingering, and your job is done.

You turn to the Winchesters with a satisfied smile, your flowy skirt dancing around you as you twirl, and they just stare back at you with wide eyes.

“I can’t tell how I feel about it.” Declares Sam, making you snicker.

“If it makes you feel better, I can assure you I can only influence circumstances.” You sigh, looking back at the two lovebirds. They’re already exchanging numbers. “Whatever happens from here on out is in their hands.”

That seems to do the trick, at least for the younger brother. Dean still looked like he was going to reach for his gun anytime soon. You sigh again.

“Look, I am not here to cause trouble.” You raise your hands in surrender, bracelets sliding down your wrists. “I came to talk.”

“Why would you want to talk to us?” You start to walk down the plaza, a little skip to your step. You stop right on the edge of the plaza where you could look down at the sea, waves hitting against the asphalt in a calming manner. Both brothers share a confused look before following you.

“You two are here for a hunt, right?” You ask walking down the edge of the shoreline, go-go boots click-clacking against the cobblestone. “The deaths that have been happening? People killing people they love?”

“What do you know about it?” You turn around at Dean’s accusatory tone. His gun was back in his hand, and it makes you roll your eyes. His eyebrows raise in surprise.

Looks like there was an edge in between all that sugar-covered whimsy after all.

“You know, everyone says you are distrustful, but damn.” You tsk. Why was it always the cute ones that had the biggest attitude problems? “I wasn’t going to intervene, but when I found out that the Winchesters were in my zone, I had to do something. You two are kind of famous for wiping out any supernatural beings you come in contact with.” You continue to walk down the shoreline. When you get to a light pole, you twirl around it until you’re facing the brothers again. “Any other day, I would’ve just hidden until you finished your job, but it is Valentine’s. The boss likes us to be extra active today.”

It looked like Dean wants to retort, but Sam interrupts him. “What do you know about the case?”

Your smile fades a little, and you let go of the light pole, your shiny eyes dropping to the floor.

“You’re looking for an Anti-Valentine, or that’s what we call them.” Your cheeks blush with shame. “They’re like us, Eros’ followers, but they…”

“Turn evil?” Dean guesses sarcastically, and you nod.

“Why would they want people to kill who they love?” Asks Sam, crossing his arms. “I mean, you look like you love love.”

That makes you giggle. “It is… hard. To do this job.” You lean back into the light pole, looking out at the sea. “There’s only so many times you can make two people who are perfect for each other meet, only for them to cheat or hurt each other before you start to have doubts.” You bite your lip, doe eyes glossing with sadness.

“And that makes them turn evil?”

“Well, most Valentines have had doubts at some point in our lives. But Anti-Valentines, they start to think humans don’t deserve love. They start getting angry and hateful, and it starts to poison them.” You swallow harshly, looking down at the floor before your eyes meet Dean’s green one, and the heavy weight on your chest turns a little lighter. Huh. “Valentines can’t manipulate mortal’s emotions, but Anti-Valentines… They've learned how to blind humans with anger. I think you humans may call it a rage blackout or something.”

The brothers seem to be processing your words. Dean studies you slowly while Sam looks like he’s racking his brain for any information on Valentines. If you hadn’t been so sad, you would totally be flirting with Dean right now. Yes, Eros was the God of love, but everyone seemed to forget he was also the God of desire. You could be a hell of a vixen when you were in the mood.

“So, how do we kill it?” Asks Dean, always ready to fight. It was hot.

“That’s the problem.” You sigh for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour, twirling around the light pole once again, cheeky smile returning to your face. “If I tell you how to kill them, I tell you how to kill me.”

Dean’s eyebrow raises, but his mouth twitches into a half-smirk. He looks you up and down one more time before his tongue runs over his lower lip, earning an incredulous huff from Sam.

“So, what’s the deal?”

“I’ll tell you how to find the Anti-Valentine and how to kill it, and you promise not to come for me after.”

“You got yourself a deal, sweetheart.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Dean was soaked in black blood when you appeared in front of him again.

Sam and he had just finally killed the Anti-Valentine, after being thrown against walls and dodging heart-pointed arrows for what felt like hours. Looks like those little bows aren't only for the aesthetic.

So while Sam and Dean looked a little worse for wear as they tried to catch their breath, there you were, in the middle of a filthy warehouse looking like a literal goddess. Pastel pink hair perfectly styled, shiny lips and shiny eyeshadow, your pink boots not getting dirty at all even as you walked through the dirt on the ground. The worst part was how you were pink everywhere. He wasn’t talking about only your clothes and hair. Your cheeks, your knees, your elbows. The palm of your hands and your pouty lips. Made him wonder, just how many other places were pink too.

“Nice to see you two are as good as they say.” You walk close to where the brothers are leaning against a wall. They were covered in blood and grim, slight cuts all over from when they weren’t quick enough while avoiding the Anti-Valentine’s arrows.

You stand right in front of Dean, and there is a halo of light around you. You were literally glowing. You were just so glad the Anti-Valentine had been taken care of. You would’ve done something about it before the Winchesters got into town, but Valentines couldn’t attack other Valentines, even if they were evil.

“Happy to meet your expectations, sweetheart.” Dean grunts, hand pressing to his side where there was a long gash.

You extend your hand towards him with a grin, palm up and ring-clad fingers waving. “My blade, please and thank you.”

You had given the brothers your celestial bronze dagger to use against the Anti-Valentine with the promise that they would give it back.

“What if we ever need to kill another one of these, hm?” It is impressive how Dean managed to look so hot when he was slowly bleeding out from his side. “Or another Greek creature.”

You smirk, and with a little jump you land in front of him. You lean in, biting your full lower lip and blinking up at Dean, long eyelashes fluttering. “Then I guess you’ll have to give me a call, sweetheart.”

You softly press a hand to Dean’s chest, making his breath hitch. You subtly wrap your hand around your dagger in his jacket’s pocket. When his eyes drop down to your lips, you press your hand harder against his torso. Gods, he was firm.

In less than a second, all injuries in Dean’s body were cured. Even the gash on his side. He looks up at you in surprise, and you swiftly take a step back, dagger in hand. You let out a dreamy giggle, taking a step towards Sam and pressing a finger to the tip of his nose, making a little “boop” sound and curing him instantly too.

You take another little jump back, facing both brothers as you brush your hair behind your shoulder and dangle the dagger between your slender fingers. With one last giggle, you wink at Dean.

“See you later, boys.”

You disappear in a cloud of pastel pink smoke, leaving behind a smell of caramel and red velvet cake.

And you knew you were gonna see them again. After all, you had a soft spot for pretty things.

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thisnameisnotspokenfor · 3 days ago

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Chapter 40 SUPER ROUGH SNIPPET

disclaimer: this is in the early rough stages so a lot of things are missing! But enjoy!

“You know for someone who claimed he had no time to spare for picking up his shipments, he sure is moving leisurely now, isn’t he?” Cepheus commented as the pair watched the group of nobles and servants come to what must’ve been their fifth stop near a glowing wallflower bush.

“That’s just the way people with power work,” Asha murmured as she sighed.

“Or people who have more scents than sense, which full offense seems to be a running trend amongst your nobles.”

“Not all of them,” Asha argued back. “Some of them were and are quite reasonable when you get to know them. It’s just the bad ones who tend to have the furthest reach…”

“I take it that he’s one of the bad ones?’ Cepheus asked.

“He’s…well…he’s never been particularly kind to me,” she confessed. “Before I met you he scolded me for suggesting that something was going on with the forest. He rushed me when I tried to tell anyone else, and he’s always had this habit of making me feel…really small.” she confessed as the nobleman in question handed Lady Camille another flower before laughing. “It’s strange seeing him be nice to anyone-,”

“Hmm”

“What? What are you thinking?”

“Nothing really other than the fact that from what you’re telling me, he may be one of the most backstabbing, two-faced, air-wasting, disgusting, self-centered, heartless, inconsiderate bastards I’ve ever heard of!” the star smiled. “I’m impressed!”

“What?! What is there to be impressed about?”

“I mean, all in all I know some bad, even terrible people to! So that’s something coming from me!”

“Terrible?” Asha frowned. Why would a wishing star know so many terrible people? Hadn’t he said that she was his first wisher? Granted she knew that there were apparently other people in space, but still. Why was the star keeping questionable company?

It was one thing for her grandfather to keep it but for the star-

Should she even be trusting him?

No, Cepheus was her friend! He had just saved her life. If she couldn’t trust him then, who could she trust?

“Yeah, what? Don’t tell me that you haven’t come across your fair share of terrible people. In terms of terrible nobles, where would you rank this guy?”

“I…I don’t know…I..I try not to think about him, more than I have to.”

“I see…”

“Asha, can I talk to you about something?”

“What is it?”

“Earlier you asked me whether I had stories about regular people doing regular things…Did my stories make you…uncomfortable?”

“No, of course not! It’s just that…” she paused, shaking her head as she looked down. “You’re probably tired of hearing it over and over. I’m sorry.”

“No, Asha, you’ve been burying these feelings deep within you for so many years. You can’t keep doing that forever, at some point in time you have to let it out. If not for me, then at least for yourself. Please Asha, let me help you.”

He was begging now. Something that shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did.But As much as she hated to admit it, there was some truth to his words.

She bit her lip, slowly tugging at her braids as she hurriedly confessed, “You see it’s one thing hearing those stories as myths and whatnot,” she cautiously began as she kept her eyes focused on her feet. “Because they don’t feel real, but then, it’s another to know that it’s real and that things like that can really happen…that legacies like this do and can exist and that they can result in wonderful things for some people.”

When he didn’t speak, she continued, feeling a bit braver than before as her face burned. “I know I’m being petulant. But… it’s just so hard living in a world where some people are blessed to worry about the after of achieving their dreams…when you can’t even be good enough to have them…”

“You think it’s petulant to be angry that life hasn’t dealt you a fair hand?”

She bowed her head as she brushed away a few stray tears. “No it’s just that!” she took a deep breath. “I…I know I should be stronger about it, I mean I live in a kingdom whose motto is to make impossibilities reality! And it’s true. Not a lot of kingdoms would have a prince who falls for a cook, or peasants who just so happen to be born with wonderful powers, but mine does.So, when I met with the king’s advisors turned my proposal down because the number of people like me…is statistically insignificant.”

She sniffled, as more tears seemed to escape her. “I only asked the question I did because I just hoped that being from a world of immortals, that maybe…just maybe you guys might see me differently. That me being in your world might be different, but I’m not sure.”

“What kind of legacy am I going to leave behind Cepheus? I’ve nearly died twice today! And my father…” she shook her head. “there’s nothing left for me in this world…”

“Then come to mine.”

“What?”

“If this world never appreciated you, then maybe it never deserved you to begin with.”

“Deserved me?” she laughed as she shook her head. “Isn’t that a pretentious assumption?”

“Is assuming that everyone is entitled to basic decency a pretentious assumption?”

“Well no-,”

“I admit I don’t know anything about humans, but even I can see that what that man, your father’s supposed best friend is doing to you isn’t right.” the star quickly added as she cringed. “Do you really think if he cared for you or if that he was a good man that you’d be begging me to erase your very existence? Or you’d be saying that if you died no one would miss you? Asha that’s not right-,”

“But it’s just the way things are,” she sniffled. “In your stories and real life. No one ever cares for the little people like me.”

“I do!” he retorted. “I care for you and if you let me I could show you just how wonderful you are!”

“Wonderful,” she whispered, before looking away. “Am I really wonderful?”

“You are to me.”

She scoffed, weakly staring at the sky. “Why do you care so much for me anyway?”

“It’s because we’re friends silly,” he smiled, repeating her words. “And this is what friends do for each other, right? They help each other out!”

“I know…” she sadly nodded, unable to understand the strange disappointment filling her at his words. She took a steadying breath, as she whispered. “But what if I disappoint you and the other stars? Everything will be the same, just like how it is on earth and in those stories -,”

“Not this one…please, Asha. Not every story ends this way. Yours doesn’t…”So many don’t. And not many are as glamorous or as happy as everyone makes it seem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Twins have always been seen as a special things amongst stars, some even consider a blessing of sorts.. It was the reason why, when even after Betelguese had broken off his arrangement, that most of the crimson ones resented Deneb and her children for it. They thought it was an insult from fate itself.”

“Maybe they were onto something,” Asha replied. “Every time she opposed them things always worked out for her in the end so-,”

“Well yes but things weren’t that simple. You see after Rigil and Sirius had been born, Alhena had twins… Polaris and Cassiopeia but the process had been so grueling that she died shortly after they were born.”

Asha paused. There had to have been some irony interwoven into the story of an ambitious star who, when on the verge of finally ascending had only fallen victim to the circumstances she’d so desperately sought. It had been a story she’d seen and heard countless times on earth before. It was only strange to hear a star falling to it as well.

“A lot of stars suspected her death to be of foul play, as Deneb was no stranger to placing spies or even assassins within her enemy’s courts, and given how rumors of the midwife’s incompetency and strange methods ran rampant at the time, most suspected that she’d tried to kill Betelguese’s children.”

“Did she?” Asha whispered. “Would she really kill little stars like that?”

“I don’t know…I don’t think anyone ever discovered the truth…the midwife didn’t last long after that… but the repercussions were severe. Both Sirius and Rigel’s childhoods were fraught with danger…”

#the kingdom of the stars #kingdom of the stars #chapter snippet #writers on tumblr

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shinningdance · 2 hours ago

Text

Undercover prep

something silly :))

summery: you help the guys getting ready for an undercover mission. Silly little moments ヾ(≧▽≦)ヾ

warnings: none!!

words: 1166

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"What even is that?" Johnny asks, turning his face so you couldn't put that weird thing on his face.

"Eye shadow..? I'm making that fake scar on your cheek with that." You explain, gently putting a small bit of it on his cheek, faking a healed scar.

You're currently sitting on his lap, his hands on your thighs to keep you stable and so he doesn't accidentally knock something over. When you agreed to help them get ready, they didn't think it would go like this, not that they're complaining.

From the corner of your eye you can see John tying his tie, which doesn't match his suit at all. Not even a tiny bit.

"Please tell me you have another tie." You huff and shake your head slightly before focusing on Johnny's fake scar again.

John pauses and looks down at the tie in his hands. "I do...but what's wrong with this one?"

"Brown suit and gray tie don't match, simply rule." Kyle answers for you, tying his own tie. Well, at least he's trying.

"They do match, no?" John asks, frowning at the tie before putting it down. "...Which color then?"

"burgundy." You answer almost immediately. "It should be in the third drawer."

While the other men are scattering around trying to piece their outfits together, you keep drawing the fake scar onto Johnny's cheek. He keeps starring at your face with a goofy grin on his lips. He lets you move his face left and right as you try to get the best angle to draw.

"Do i have something on my face?" You mumble without meeting his eyes, too busy perfecting the fake scar.

"Just bonnie eyes..." He grins, squeezing your thighs gently. His grin grows wider as you gently push at his chest.

"Let me concentrate." You warn, grip becoming tighter on the brush.

The door opens, Simon entering with a small plastic bag from the nearest store. His long legs carry him towards you and the Scot, what would be at least 10 steps for you are hardly 5 for him.

"Got the hair gel." He mutters, voice low as ever.

"Thank you..just put it down on the table." pointing towards said table you realize there is zero space. A small mirror and the make up scattered on it. "...nevermind, put it on the floor."

The only answer you get from his is a small grunt as he does what you say.

"Who's the unlucky bloke who's hair is getting destroyed?" Johnny chuckles, feeling not one bit sorry for the man.

You pause mid stroke and look at his shit eating grin, turning your head towards Simon, you can see the smile under his balaclava.

"You are the unlucky bloke." crossing his arms and tilting his head at the Scot you can see the amusement in his eyes.

Johnny's grin falters for a split second before he quickly recovers, shaking his head with mock seriousness.

"Nah, nah, not happening. My hair’s got a reputation, mate. You wouldn’t ruin a national treasure, would ya?" He looks at you with big, pleading eyes, but you’re already reaching for the gel Simon brought.

"National treasure? More like a national disaster," Kyle chimes in from the other side of the room, struggling with his cufflinks.

John chuckles as he swaps his tie, while Simon crouches down, inspecting the products on the floor with mild disinterest.

"You’ll survive," you say, scooping a small amount of gel onto your fingertips. Before Johnny can protest further, your fingers are already running through his hair, working the product in. He tenses for a moment, then sighs dramatically, slumping slightly in the chair.

"If this goes wrong, I’m blaming you," he mutters, though he doesn’t move away.

"You trust me, don’t you?" you tease, raising a brow as you continue styling his hair.

Johnny hums, then smirks. "With my life. But my hair? That’s pushing it."

Simon huffs out something that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle, and Kyle mutters, "Dramatic bastard."

"You love me," Johnny fires back.

"Questionable."

"You’re all children," John comments, straightening his tie in the mirror.

"Yet you keep us around," Simon replies smoothly.

You finish with Johnny’s hair, tilting your head as you inspect your work. "Alright, not bad. You look less like a feral dog and more like a decent human being now."

Johnny gasps, hand flying to his chest. "Ye wound me, bonnie."

You roll your eyes, grabbing a cloth to wipe your hands. "You’ll live. Now, go put on your damn jacket before I start matching your tie to your socks too."

"Can't exactly do that with you on my lap." he counters, leaning back in the chair.

"If you'd let go of my waist i could actually stand up." You retort.

"What is going on with your tie?" John mumbles as he looks over to Kyle, who is taking his tie off again.

"Not my fault this tie doesn't know how to cooperate." he grumbles and looks away, almost bashfully.

A small giggle escapes your lips as you stand up from Johnny's lap, ignoring the small whine he makes. You pick the tie up and turn Kyle so he's facing you.

Without saying anything you begin to do his tie, a simple windsor knot. You gently pat his chest after you're done and step back. "Don't you look handsome" You grin and feel your cheeks flush as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"You don't look to bad yourself." he smiles and gently drops your hand.

A second later you can feel another body pressed against your back, their head going for your neck in an instant. Simon's arms go around your waist, holding you against him. "It's devastating that you're not with us on this mission, would love to see you all dolled up."

You grin and lean back, one hand lifting to pat his cheek. "You can always take me on a date, would be all dolled up for you."

"Next Saturday, just get dressed up and leave the rest to us." John declares, already planning on which restaurant you all will go to.

"I call dibs on picking up the lass!" Johnny states as he re-appears in a dashing navy suit, the fake scar on his cheek and his new hair style making him look like a completely different person.

"No fair! You did that last time, it's my turn." Kyle protests and pulls you into his arms, stealing you from the tall man.

"Maybe that's something we should discuss after the mission?" Simon questions, shaking his head at this silly argument.

"He's right, let's go." John commands, but before he leaves he places a quick but loving kiss to your forehead.

Simon places a quick kiss to the top of your head before following his captain.

The two sergeants place a messy kiss on each of your cheeks before you're left alone in your home, waiting for your return.

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

a/n: like every damm time i gave up towards the end :(( already questioning if i want to make a part 2 of this where the focus is on the undercover mission. thoughts???（＾▽＾）

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #poly!141 #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #cod #kyle gaz garrick #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john price #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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thebigbadbatswife · 1 day ago

Text

I Don't Know How It Gets Better Than This

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader Stay Like This Forever Masterlist

Warnings - 18+ ONLY, Explicit sexual content, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Multiple orgasms, Porn with feelings, Elements of Soft Dom!Bruce Wayne and praise kink, Established relationship, Older man/Younger woman, Age Gap, Tooth-rotting fluff, Humour, Valentine's Day

Summary - Bruce surprises you the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever had.

A/N - A day late, but it's here! As promised! Also, as with all fics within this 'verse, this is a complete stand alone and doesn't require any thing else to be read to be enjoyed <3

Word Count - 4.7k

You frown as you get into the back of the car that’s waiting for you, just outside of the airport. Your eyes are glued to the bright screen of your phone as you fumble with the seatbelt.

It’s been ten hours since your last text to Bruce and he hasn’t even read it yet.

Is he upset with you? It’s your first Valentines as a couple and you haven’t been able to spend the day together because work has kept you away. It’s a couple hours from midnight now and you have only just got back to Gotham.

Should you call him? Not replying to your text is very out of character of Bruce. Even when he’s been upset in the past, he’s always been upfront about it with you about it. For him to suddenly change…

Something else is going on, so you decide that you are going to give him a call. The line doesn’t even ring. Instead you’re sent directly to his voicemail.

Now you are starting to get worried about him.

“Everything alright, Miss…?” your driver, Tom, asks you. He’s been your driver for the longest time and he’s one of the few people that you know you can trust.

“Bruce hasn’t replied to my text and his phone went straight to voicemail,” you reply.

“Shall I drive you to Wayne Manor instead?”

You shake your head as you scroll through your contact list. “No, my apartment is fine. I’m going to call Alfred. He might know what’s going on.”

“Of course.”

You bring your phone back up to your ear as the line rings. Unconsciously, your leg starts to bounce as you wait for an answer. After the third ring, someone picks up the phone.

“Hello?” Alfred’s voice comes over the phone.

“Alfred! Thank goodness, I’m so sorry. I know it’s really late. I just. Bruce, he isn’t answering my texts and his phone went straight to voicemail.”

“Master Bruce left the Manor a few hours ago. Oh my, it would seem that he’s left his phone here.”

You laugh softly, relief rushing through you. “Of course he has. Okay, that’s good to know. Get him to call me when you see him next?”

“I will see that he does. Have a good night Miss…”

“Goodnight Alfred.”

You set your phone into your lap and sigh. He’s not upset with you, like you had been panicking about. He just forgot about his phone. Though it isn’t like him to be so absentminded. You remember him mentioning being concerned about a killer by the name of Calendar Man, but Alfred hadn’t mentioned Bruce going out tonight in his cape and cowl. And you’re sure that he would have.

What was he doing tonight?

As the car drives through the streets of Gotham, you find your gaze focusing on the rooftops. Ever since you figured out what it is that your boyfriend does at night, you find your focus often drawn above you. Wondering if you’ll catch a glimpse of him.

The drive from the airport to your apartment isn’t super long, thankfully. Before you know it, you’re climbing out of the car, accepting your bag from Tom and thanking him and making your way up to your apartment.

When you open the door to your apartment the first thing that you notice is the rose petals on the floor. The next thing you notice is all of the candles, casting a golden glow over your home.

The biggest smile that you’ve ever had makes its way onto your face as you take in the sight of what Bruce has done. It’s no wonder to you now why he forgot about his phone. He was busy setting all of this up for you.

You shut the door behind you, making sure to lock and chain it, and set your bag down onto the floor, alongside your suitcase.

Following the rose petals, they lead you to the dining room. The table is set. There’s a single flower vase with a red rose sitting inside of it and two empty wine glasses, waiting to be filled. The bottle of wine that sits next to them looks like it might have some dust on it, but it’s hard to tell in the candlelight.

In the centre of it all, standing there and waiting for you, is Bruce. Looking like the picture of perfection.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he approaches you. His hand comes to rest on your hip as he pulls you toward him, which you protest against.

“Don’t! I need a shower; I’m all gross from the plane,” you complain as you push against him.

He chuckles softly. “I don’t care. I want to kiss my girl.”

You give in and let him pull you flush against his body. He kisses you in that soft and sweet way that always sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach as your heart skips. You grip his suit jacket as you kiss him back. Your tongue gently prods at his bottom lip, seeking more from him, which Bruce gladly gives you.

You pull away first, your smile immediately returning. “You didn’t have to do all this, baby,” you say softly.

“Of course I did. You deserve to have a nice Valentines,” he replies.

His words shouldn’t hit like they do, but you can feel yourself getting choked up. You haven’t had a great track record when it comes to past relationships. Something that Bruce keeps doing his best to make up for. Hiding your face away from him, you halfheartedly shove against his chest again.

“Stop, you’re going to make me cry.”

Bruce’s arms wrap around you, hugging you tightly. “So long as they’re happy tears. That’s all I’m going to accept tonight.”

You laugh and you look up at him. Now he’s looking at you in that way that sends your heart haywire, warmth blooming in your chest. His thumb swipes away a tear that’s slowly making its way down your cheek.

“Dinner still needs a little bit longer, so why don’t you go and take that shower?”

“Okay.”

He gives you one more kiss, drawing a soft noise from you before he finally lets you go. You pause when you reach the doorway and look back at him. There is one thing that has been nagging at you ever since you walked through the door and saw the petals.

“How’d you know that I would be back in time?”

He shrugs. “Because I’m Batman.”

You shake your head and laugh. “That’s the answer you’re really going for?”

“It hasn’t failed me yet. Now, go, shower! Or dinner will be ready and cold before you get out.”

“Alright, alright! I’m going!”

The hot water feels great as it cascades over your body. After the long day that you’ve had, it’s very much needed. A part of you almost expects Bruce to join you, but you’re not disappointed when he doesn’t. You’d prefer that he keeps his eyes on dinner and not burn your apartment down because he’s busy having sex with you.

Besides, you’re sure that there will be plenty of that after dinner.

You switch the water off and wrap a towel around your body. When you enter your bedroom, you find a dress laid out on your bed, waiting for you. It’s in your favourite colour and there’s a matching set of heels, sitting in an opened shoe box. As well as that there’s a couple of velvet jewellery cases.

He didn’t.

You pick up the smaller case and open it. Inside are a pair of diamond and sapphire earrings. You’re already sure that, in the bigger case, is a matching necklace.

Even though you’ve told him he doesn’t have to, Bruce does love to buy you gifts. Though, if this is what he’s buying you for Valentine’s Day, you can’t imagine what he might do for your birthday.

Once you’re dry and dressed, you look at yourself in the mirror. Your makeup doesn’t do your outfit justice. It’s simpler than what you would have normally done, but you don’t have the time right now.

A delicious scent is wafting into your bedroom, from the kitchen, and it’s making your stomach growl.

If Bruce notices your toned down makeup, he doesn’t say a thing as you re-enter the dining room. His eyes take in the sight of you as he swallows thickly. Honestly, you’re convinced you could walk in wearing a burlap sack and he would still look at you the exact same way.

He gets up from his seat and walks over to you again.

“Look at you. Absolutely beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to buy me all of this.”

“I know, but you deserve to be spoiled. And I will take every chance I get to do exactly that.”

The moment is completely ruined by your stomach as it growls. Bruce chuckles and starts to lead you toward the table.

“Come on, I made your favourite.”

Once you’ve taken a seat, he pushes your chair in before taking his own seat. Your table isn’t huge like the one back at Wayne Manor. So you’re not miles from each other as he sits opposite of you. In fact, his knee presses against your own.

The food looks amazing. The smell alone making your mouth watering as your stomach growls again. You tuck in immediately. Just as the first bite passes your lips, a moan leaves you.

It tastes incredible. Of course, you expect nothing less from Bruce. He’s an excellent cook, when he has the time to dedicate to it. That being one of the things you learned early on, after the first night you had spent together.

The conversation between you two consists of Bruce asking about your day. Which you enthusiastically tell him about your new castmates and the script and how, for the first time in a long time, you’re actually excited about acting again. While you ask him about his biggest worry that he had mention, to which he tells you that Julian Day was caught earlier by the police. And both Arkham and Blackgate are quiet so there’s no worry about the Bat Signal pulling him away.

He’s all yours.

When dinner’s finished, and you’ve got a couple of glasses of wine in your system, you decide to skip desert. Right now, all you want is Bruce.

From the dining room, you and Bruce move to the living room. Where he’s settled on the sofa with you straddling his lap as you make out. His tongue slides across your own, exploring every inch of your mouth. Meanwhile his hands remain high up on your waist, making no move to feel you up like you want him to.

It makes no sense to you considering that you can feel how hard he is. Even the smallest shift from you has him twitching in his pants. You decide to take things into your own hands.

From where your arms are wrapped around his neck, you slide a hand down his front, headed straight for his pants. Just before your finger tips come into contact with his belt, his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Am I not moving fast enough for you, princess?” he asks. The nickname sends a shiver down your spine, your body remembering all the things he’s done with you, and to you, after using it.

You shake your head. “Not even close, babe.”

“I don’t want to rush things. Besides, I love kissing you and I haven’t been able to do it enough these last few weeks.”

His words are sweet, making your cheeks heat up and warmth bloom throughout your body that isn’t due to the alcohol in your veins or your growing arousal. You kiss his jawline, following it toward his ear.

“There are other parts of me you can kiss, you know,” you whisper.

“All in good time, sweet girl.”

Bruce directs your face back toward him so that he can resume kissing you. The hand that had hold of your wrist is now on the back of your back, keeping you right where he wants you. Meanwhile, the hand that’s on your waist starts to move away.

His hand slides down your side, coming down to rest on your thigh. Which he squeezes gently. As his tongue reenters your mouth, Bruce’s fingers slide beneath your dress, trailing up the inside of your thigh. All of your focus is now on his hand. The feeling of his calloused finger tips against your soft, smooth skin sends goosebumps erupting across your skin.

The closer he gets to where you want him most, the more you start to ache with need. Just before he reaches your panties, he starts to move away again, trailing his fingers back toward your knee.

You whine against his lips, frustration starting to build up inside of you. He was so close! So close to finally giving you what you wanted! Why’d he stop? Bruce simply smirks as he continues to run his fingers up and down your leg.

“You’re very needy tonight, princess,” he coos. “I’d better fix that, huh?”

“Please,” you whine.

Bruce shushes you softly. His fingers trail back up your legs, dragging them slowly along the inside of your leg.

His touch remains featherlight, but your body still jolts when he finally pushes his fingers against your panties. Right where your clitoris is. Gently, he starts to rub you through the soaked fabric.

Even the lightest touch feels amazing, pleasure already thrumming through you. Your lips part as a breathy moan of his name leaves you.

“No wonder you’re so needy. You’re absolutely soaked, sweetheart.”

“It’s your fault,” you tell him. “You make me like this.”

He hums and nods in agreement. “I had better look after you then, hmmm?”

“Please.”

You expect him to either slide your panties to the side or rip them off of you completely, but he does neither. Instead he keeps touching you through them. The only thing he changes is that he starts to use his thumb instead of his fingers.

He kisses you again as he rubs circles against your clit, swallowing your moans. His free hand comes up from your waist and upwards to cup and grope your breasts through your dress.

You roll your hips, chasing after your pleasure that’s building up way faster than you thought that it would. But it’s really no wonder with how well Bruce knows your body. Knowing exactly how to touch you, both the pressure and speed needed to get you to your climax.

“Fuck,” you gasp. There’s no doubt in your mind that, with how quickly you’re approaching your end, that it’s feeding his ego.

“You going to be a good girl and come for me?” he asks. He applies some more pressure, his rubbing becoming more insistent.

Your breath is now coming out in short puffs as you can feel the tension coiling inside of you more and more. You’re so close. So fucking close, if he just keeps touching you like that…

Your fingers grip his suit jacket like it’s your lifeline as your body shakes. Bruce talks you through it. His words filled with encouragement and praise as your orgasm rocks through you.

Just as it starts to become way too much for you, he pulls his hand away. Your forehead comes to rest against his shoulder, your body still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. He rubs your leg. Pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck and cheek, as you come down.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You make a soft noise of agreement as your eyes close for a moment. Enjoying the feeling of the random patterns being traced and his lips on your skin.

As your breathing calms down, you turn your head and capture his lips with your own again. At the same time, your hand trails back down his body. Following the exact same path as earlier.

He doesn’t stop you this time. You press your hand against the tent in his pants. A low groan leaves Bruce as you touch him. The sound making your pussy clench around nothing, sending another wave of arousal through you.

Fuck, you need him inside of you.

“I think we should move this to the bedroom,” you suggest, pulling away.

His eyes are dark, that steely blue of his iris a thin line against his pupil. While there is a light blush across his cheeks, which stands out a fair bit against his pale skin.

“Definitely.”

Once he’s made sure your grip on him is secure, he stands up, bringing you with him. As he carries you toward the bedroom, you press kisses to his jaw and neck. Even going as far as to gently bite and suck on his neck, leaving behind a few lovebites in your wake.

They’re in a rather visible spot, unless he wears a turtleneck. He, honestly, might just end up covering it up with the same makeup he uses to cover up the worst of the bruises he earns each night as Batman. Deep down, you hope that he doesn’t. You want him to show them off. Remind everyone that he’s all yours.

Though, with how the media continues talking about you both, they likely don’t need it.

When you get to the bedroom, he sets you down. His hand quickly locates the zipper for your dress and, very slowly, he starts to pull it down. The action surprises you. You had expected him to rip it from you like he’s done to every other dress that he’s previously bought you. Bruce chuckles.

“I love the way this dress looks on you far too much to ruin it just yet,” he says.

“Oh, I see. So I only get to keep dresses based on how you feel about them?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Do you want me to ruin it?”

“No! I’m just in mourning over the other ones.”

He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling as they shine with amusement. He kisses the tip of your nose. “I will buy a replacement for each one I’ve ruined, okay? Now, come on.”

With your dress fully unzipped, he eases it off of your shoulders and lets it fall into a pile on the floor, around your feet. He helps you step out of it and pushes you back toward the bed.

“Lay down,” he instructs you.

You dutifully follow his order, settling down onto the bed. As you get comfortable, Bruce strips himself of his suit jacket and shirt. You drag your eyes down his body. Appreciating how well toned his body is. The scars that litter his body add to his sexiness.

“Enjoying the view?” he teases you.

“Only fair considering you keep ogling my boobs,” you reply. The entire time he’s been undressing his top half, his eyes have kept glancing over, landing on your chest more often than not. Not that you mind. You like it when he’s ogling your body. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t have some fun.

“Well, I know your name now.”

His reply makes you shake your head as it prompts the memory of the night you first met him. Your dress had been completely scandalous that night, yet he had not looked at your chest once; claiming that doing so would be rude since he didn’t even know your name.

You cross your arms over your boobs, hiding them from his view, pretending to be annoyed with him.

“That’s it. No more boobs for you.”

Bruce chuckles as he shakes his head. He comes over to the bed and climbs onto the bed, draping his body over yours as he settles between your legs. He nuzzles his face against your neck. His kisses turn into light bites as he trails them down your skin.

He nibbles at your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine and making it really hard to keep your act up. When he reaches where your arms are still crossed against your chest, he kisses along the length of one of your forearms before pulling away.

Supporting himself with one hand, he uses the other to gently pry your arms apart. You don’t do anything to fight him on it, letting him open your arms and reveal your breasts to him again.

“There you are.”

He litters your chest with kisses and lovebites. Starting at the top of one and trailing his way to the underside. His bites turn into licks as he gets closer to your nipple. Bruce swirls his tongue around the hardened bud before finally taking it into his mouth and starts to suck.

You arch your back into his touch, a short gasp, bordering on a moan, leaving you. Like the tentative boyfriend that he is, he doesn’t neglect your other breast, using his free hand to squeeze and play with it. He lavishes your chest in affection. Kissing, biting and licking his way to the other. Where he repeats his actions.

“Bruce,” you moan softly as you run your fingers through his hair, messing it up. You shift your hips beneath him, grinding against his cock. Your actions draw a deep groan from him and he rocks his hips into yours. Letting you know that two can play at that game.

He only stops so that he can trail his kisses down your body, past your naval and toward your truly soaked panties. He presses a firm kiss to your clit through the fabric, making you sharply inhale. Bruce doesn’t stop there. Instead he kisses and bites the inside of both of your thighs.

You love the sight of him between your legs. Whether it’s him eating you out or kissing where your thighs are most sensitive. His hair messy and pupils blown wide. Even better if his chin and mouth is shiny with your slick. It’s one of the best sights in the world to you. You wouldn’t mind keeping him there forever.

Deft fingers undo the buckles of your heels before sliding them off of your feet and letting them fall to the floor with a thud. As soon as they’re gone, your panties quickly follow as Bruce rips the fabric, as if it’s paper, and gets rid of them. You don’t care. Anything is good as long as it gets him inside of you faster. The longer that he draws this out, the more desperate that you are starting to become.

The ache between your legs is becoming unbearable as your clitoris throbs, begging for more attention from him. You want, no, you need him inside of you. You need to feel him stretching you open as he fills you up, making you feel impossible full.

“Brucie?” you call softly. He looks up at you from where he’s been drinking in the sight of the mess that your arousal and earlier orgasm have made of you.

“Yes, princess?”

“I need to feel you inside of me. Please? Please, fuck me?”

You don’t even need to beg him for it. The way that he’s looking at you and how hard his cock feels against you. He was likely about to make a move to finally start fucking you to begin with. You just begged before he could make that move.

With a speed that would be impressive if he wasn’t Batman, Bruce removes the rest of his clothing. He drapes his body back over yours, lining himself up with your entrance.

There was a time when you used to be nervous about his size; he’s the biggest you’ve ever had after all. Now though? Now you wrap a leg around his waist and pull him down for another kiss as he starts to slowly slide into you.

You’re so wet that he easily enters you, bottoming out immediately. He feels absolutely amazing. Stretching your pussy and filling you up exactly the way that you want him to. Your head falls backwards, onto the pillow, as you moan.

“That feels better, doesn’t it, princess?” he coos softly. He’s stilled, letting you adjust to his size, like he always does.

“Yes,” you reply, along with a nod. It really does. It’s insane how good he makes you feel.

As soon as you give him the go ahead to move, he does. Slowly he pulls out of you, leaving only the tip inside, before pushing back in. Each time he makes sure he’s hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you, drawing more moans from you.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Let me hear you,” he murmurs. He’s back to nuzzling and kissing your neck and jaw.

You could stay here, in this moment, forever. Your bodies tangled up together, joined as one. Bruce slowly fucking you as his fingers played with your clit.

Tonight has been something like you might read in some romance novel or see in some movie. At the same time they all paled in comparison. The real thing always being better.

Bringing your hands to his shoulders and push lightly. If Bruce didn’t want to move, he wouldn’t, but he follows your lead. Flipping your positions so that you are now on top.

A deep groan leaves him as you start to bounce on his cock, your hands flat against his chest to support yourself. His hands are on your thighs, stroking them with his thumbs as he watches you ride him.

“Look at you. You look absolutely amazing sweetheart.” His voice sounds strained as he speaks. Much like earlier, his eyes are trained on your boobs, which bounce with each roll of your hips, along with the jewels around your neck. “You always look so good riding my cock.”

You laugh softly, which quickly turns into a moan. You can feel yourself getting close again. Your pussy squeezing and fluttering around his cock while the coil inside of you grows tighter and tighter. Bruce is getting close as well. While before he was holding back his moans, wanting to hear you instead, he’s growing more vocal as he starts to thrust up into you.

His thumb returns to your clit, sending you tumbling over the edge. You cry his name as your pussy clamps down onto him. Bruce falls over that edge with you, the way your squeezing him making it impossible for him not to, and he comes deep inside of you.

Boneless and spent, it’s easy for him to get you to lay on his chest. Both of you panting hard and becoming the only sound that can now be heard in the bedroom.

The feeling of him running random patterns against your back and the steady beating of his heart in your ear, soothes you. Almost sending you straight to sleep. It is rather late at night and you were previously on a long flight. You’re tired.

Before you can, you pull away from Bruce, muttering that you need the bathroom when he goes to stop you.

While you're in there, you make sure to remove your makeup and the expensive jewels he bought you, settling them back into their cases.

When you’ve finished up and re-enter the bedroom you come back to Bruce waiting for you with a glass of water and a slice of the cheesecake that had originally been for desert.

Grateful, you accept the glass and take a sip, before settling onto his lap like he wants you to. Bruce offers you a bite of the cheesecake which, again, you accept, groaning at the rich taste of it.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asks you, as if the answer isn’t the most obvious thing in the world.

“Tonight was perfect, Bruce. Thank you.”

“Anything for my girl,” he tells you. The kiss is soft and sweet; you smile into it. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

There really aren’t enough words in the world for you to describe or tell him how much you love him. Something tells you that it’s the same for him as well.

The cheesecake slice is shared between the two of you. He continues to feed you each bite. Once the plate is empty, he sets it down the nightstand. Bruce moves you both down the bed, getting you settled against his chest and pulls the covers up over you both.

You snuggle against him, your focus returning to his heartbeat as you let your eyes close this time and fall fast asleep, in the arms of your lover.

You don’t know how life can get much better than this.

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