#this took. longer than I thought it would

[vampzity]

you’re mine | Y.JN

★ DAY EIGHT: MARKING WITH JEONGIN ★

pairing: bf! jeongin x f! reader

while getting ready to go out for his birthday, jeongin can’t seem to keep his eyes off you. all day his mind filled with dirty thoughts of you— the way you looked in his clothing, how your hips moved when you walked. he wanted to tear you apart, make sure that everyone knew you belonged to him.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, smut, hickeys, biting, possession, pet names (baby, bunny, whore, angel), praising?? degrading??, fingering, a bit of nipple play, oral (f. receiving), innie gets a little jealous

word count: 2k

Jeongin sat in the kitchen, watching as you paced back and forth while getting ready. He was already done, but he always told you to take your time since he didn’t mind the wait. He understood that sometimes girls just took a little longer and was okay with that.

You made repeated trips to the kitchen, asking him what looked best on you and what outfits might’ve clashed with his own. To him, you were a bit of a perfectionist— as you always make sure to keep everything in line. Jeongin didn’t mind, in fact he loved watching how each outfit looked on you, how perfect the fabric hugged the natural curves on your body.

He didn’t care what you wore outside, as he always made it clear to everyone that you were off the market. Though he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him jealous the way you caught others attention.

“Innie are you even listening to me?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, meeting your pouted eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest. His eyes dropped to your outfit, noticing how your black body con dress hugged your waist tightly. It ended at your mid thighs, and you tied it together with one of his dark blue jean jackets to give more of a baggy look.

“Should I wear the stockings that have the fleece on the inside, so I don’t get cold? With my black boots?”

You did a swift 360 turn for him, catching his attention at just exactly how short your dress was. A pit of jealously filled his stomach, knowing that any guy who was near you could find arousal in your dress.

“Go change.” he ordered, his tone of voice suddenly cold.

You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at your outfit before meeting his gaze again. You tilted your head at him, crossing your arms in resistance.

“Why? You never had a problem with me wearing anything like this before.”

“Well I do now. Take it off.”

You rolled your eyes, walking back to the room. Jeongin followed behind you, closing the door behind him as he watched you grab your boots from the closet.

“Well I don’t care. I’m your girlfriend, men aren’t gonna bother me if I’m around you. I don’t know why you’re suddenly being so negative.”

Jeongin grabbed onto your arm, pulling you back to his body. He wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder. Your face flushed red as his breath hit the side of your neck, his slight bulge pressing against the back of your ass.

“You’re mine. No one else should be seeing your body but me.”

He kissed your neck softly, his warm lips giving you comfort as they made you hotter than you already were.

“But since you want to dress like an attention seeker,” his lips latched onto your skin, sucking against it softly until it turned a soft red color.

“I’ll make sure they know you’re mine.”

You moaned in response, a small tickle dancing up your nerves. He bit the area he left a red mark, small teeth marks appearing onto your skin. You threw your head back against him, letting him undo the buttons to the jean jacket. He pulled the jacket off of you, throwing it aside onto the bed as his kisses slowly worked down to your shoulder.

Jeongin turned your body slightly, angling it enough so that you could watch him in the body mirror. His lustful eyes met your own, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“You’re so pretty angel. I just want to sink my teeth into you.”

His kisses remained soft, with the occasional bite here and there that would make you wince in slight pain. He kissed the top of your back, sucking against the skin softly until the color turned into a light reddish purple.

“Such delicate skin. It’s a shame I have to ruin it with these bruises.”

Jeongin snaked his hands underneath your dress, expecting a pair of shorts only to be met with your smaller hipster panties. He gasped quietly, slipping his fingers in between your folds.

“Wow no shorts either? Who else grabbed your attention that isn’t me?” You let out breath of relief, melting under his touch as his pads worked your clit.

Your hand wrapped around his arm, small moans and gasps escaping you as he rubbed your clit slowly. He continued to bite at the skin on your shoulder blades, leaving as many possible bite marks that he could. His lips latched onto your skin, most hickeys smaller or a darker shade than others.

“You want me to keep going baby?”

You nodded, whimpering as he played with your sensitive bud. He pressed down against it, creating more pressure as his fingers twirled in circles. A loud groan escaped you, legs shaking as he sped up his pace just a bit. He watched you in the mirror as your head rested on his chest, eyes closed as you felt your stomach churn in pleasure.

Jeongin left a trail of kisses down your shoulder, stopping to place a dark red hickey on the side of your shoulder. His finger slipped in between your folds, teasing your aching hole as the friction against your clit heightened. With every move you made, your ass rubbed on his growing bulge, earning small groans here and there. He made it a task to purposely brush himself against you, his tip leaking from your unintentional touch.

“Gonna cum.” you mumbled, his body grounding you from behind.

Jeongin tilted his head at you in the mirror, a brief moment of thinking running through his head.

“Aww, so desperate.. aren’t we bunny?”

He pulled his hand out of your underwear, picking you up bridal style and placing you onto the bed. He got in right after you, his body hovering over you. His eyes were dark, filled with a lust you never seen before. A bit of possession in them as Jeongin was desperate to mark you like a dog.

He placed his knee between your thighs, pushing up against you just enough for your clit to feel the pressure. His kisses danced on the front of your neck, his soft sucking leaving a map of hickeys against your skin. His lips moved along your collarbone and down toward your chest, making his dick twitch thinking about them.

“Fuck I just want to eat you alive baby. You’re such a beauty when I have you like this.”

He pulled the straps of your mini dress down, letting your tits pop out from under. Jeongin was practically drooling, bringing his thumb to his mouth as a source of lubrication. He popped it out of his mouth, rubbing it against your nipple softly. You squirmed beneath him, watching his lips kiss around your chest. His thumb worked tirelessly at your nipple, his warm lips leaving dark hickeys that you couldn’t hide in a bathing suit. He wrapped his teeth around your skin, biting it harshly.

“Fuck Innie, that hurts.” you moaned in pleasure, displaying an opposite reaction of pain.

You ran your fingers through his hair, arching your back under him as he wrapped his lips around your nipple. He sucked against it softly, his tongue swirling around it. He took turns between each breast, leaving small marks here and there to remind you of him.

“My, my.” Jeongin admired your tits, smirking at every mark he left on them.

“I don’t mean to hurt you angel, I just can’t stand the thought of you with someone else.”

His kisses trailed down your clothed stomach, eventually landing onto your thighs. You whimpered quietly, a funny feeling in your stomach making you excited for what he could’ve been thinking.

He bit your thighs harshly, his teeth marks making themselves present on your skin. He massaged your other thigh as he worked hickeys into your skin, trying to ease the slight discomfort it gave you.

“The thought of others admiring you the way I admire you.”

Jeongin licked your thigh slowly, pulling your underwear off and throwing it off to the side.

“You’re mine, you know that?” he looked up, his eyes meeting your own as you nodded shyly. “You belong to me.. only me.”

His tongue dragged against your folds, ending at your swollen bud. He sucked on it softly, earning a pleading moan out of you. He lapped up your juices as his finger nails dug into your soft skin.

“Do I not give you enough attention?”

He kissed the sides of your pussy, tongue still dancing around your folds. You pushed your hips upward, grinding against his tongue slightly.

He sucked on your clit, sticking his fingers into you and fucking you softly. You let out a small whimpering sigh, raking your fingers through his blonde locks as he toyed with you. The sound of your juices filled the room, his fingers curling just enough to hit your sweet spot.

“Do I not make you feel good, baby? Is this not enough for you?”

His fingers sped up their pace, making you open your legs further for him as he continued to leave hickeys around your thighs.

“You want another man to fuck you like this, eh?”

His harsh gaze admired you, watching as you helplessly moaned in pleasure while your body squirmed.

“I won’t let it happen.” His thumb moved circles around your clit, fingers still pounding into you.

He came back up to your level, kissing your neck and sucking on the skin to leave darker marks than before. His other hand held onto your chin, moving your head to the side as you helplessly moaned into his ear.

“Mm, that’s it baby.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers. “Let me remind you who exactly you belong to.”

Your moans soon turned into breathless noises, your stomach doing flips as you felt yourself slipping through his fingers. Jeongin noticed this, slipping a third finger into your aching hole.

“Gonna cum baby?” You nodded in response, your eyes showing mercy as they met his own.

“Do you think you deserve to after trying to dress like a whore?”

You attempted to whine out in defense, only for whimpers to leave you. Jeongin tilted his head at you, laughing to himself.

“I should just leave you to suffer. It is my birthday after all.” He stopped in place, his thumb dragging against your clit agonizingly slow.

“Please, Innie. I’ll change, I promise!”

He raised his eyebrow, his free hand tracing the hickeys on your breasts.

“Please? Now you want to listen?” He leaned over, grabbing your chin once again to meet his face. He glared into your eyes, his face as cold as ever.

“If I see you in this dress again, I’ll be sure to rip it off you next time.”

You trembled underneath him, his fingers starting up a slow pace inside of you. He kissed the side of your jawline, taking a small bite at your skin. You winced in response, moaning as his fingers fastened inside of you.

Within seconds of him starting, you immediately let yourself go onto his fingers, juices spilling out on his hand. He sat back, watching as you coated him.

“Atta girl, don’t hold back.”

He pulled his fingers out of you, licking your juices off his fingers before leaving small kisses on your thighs. He pulled the straps back onto your shoulder, fixing your dress before pulling you up to your feet. He walked you over to the body mirror, standing behind you with a smug smile on his face.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

He rested his chin on your shoulder, watching your face flush red as your eyes fell to every hickey he left on your skin. You nodded, pulling on the strap to find the hidden ones under your dress.

“You can wear this dress if you want.” He hovered by your ear, laughing to himself before continuing.

“With these visible marks, you’ll surely get that attention you so badly want.”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: happy birthday to innie!! <33 this has gotta another fav of mine that I wrote.. may have bias wrecked myself in the process..😅

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @dollywoo @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @bluesungology @stephanieeeyang @potentialgay @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub

★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill the detailed form here!

[xobunni0]

𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒾ñ𝑜

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➵ ℳ𝓔𝓝𝓤

- DAY 3 💌, boyfriend!shadow, suggestive, wc- 1891, she’s a long one, my best work yet 🤭🤭

it wasn’t the way you imagined the night would go. It was date night. and instead you were scrubbing dishes.

you scrubbed a stubborn spot on one of the plates. your mind wandering as you worked. you thought about how excited you’d been to surprise him, to see Shadow break into one of those rare small smiles he reserved just for you.

but instead you were here, alone, scrubbing dishes at nearly 10 PM

you scrubbed the last of the dishes with more force than necessary trying to distract yourself from the bitterness bubbling up inside it wasn’t fair. not the missed dinner or the lack of communication but the fact that you couldn’t even stay mad. no matter how late Shadow was or how much he forgot your love for him always out won your anger

just as you reached to turn off the water, the faint sound of the front door creaking open made you freeze. you didn’t turn around not right away.

the softest sound of boots against the floor. then warmth.

Shadow’s arms wrapped around you from behind, firm but heavy with exhaustion. his head came to rest against your shoulder the faintest exhale of relief brushing against your neck.

your breath caught and for a moment, you froze your heart racing as his presence washed over you

“Shadow” you whispered

“I’m here” he murmured, his voice low and rough

the anger that had been building up all evening began to crumble, you could feel the tension in his body the exhaustion in the way he leaned into you

Shadow was quiet for a moment, his arms tightening around you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you” he said finally. “The mission took longer than I expected.”

you turned slightly in his arms, enough to catch a glimpse of his face. his crimson eyes, usually intense were softer now, he looked… tired something he rarely let himself be.

“I waited” you said, your voice trembling just slightly. “I wanted tonight to be special. I thought you..”

“I know” he interrupted gently, his gaze dropping. “I saw the table… the candles.” his voice getting even lower. “I’m sorry.”

your heart ached at the sincerity in his words at the way his guilt seemed to weigh heavier on him than his own exhaustion. slowly, you reached up your fingers brushing lightly against the side of his face.

“I’m not mad” you admitted, “I just… missed you.”

Shadow leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a brief moment. “I missed you too” he murmured

you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his. for all the frustration and disappointment.. having him here feeling his warmth, hearing his voice was enough to make everything else fade away.

“Come on” you said softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “You need to sit down. You look exhausted.”

he didn’t argue, letting you guide him to the couch. as you moved to grab him a plate of reheated food, Shadow’s hand caught yours pulling you gently back to him.

“Stay” he said simply, his eyes meeting yours

you didn’t hesitate, sinking down beside him. Shadow’s arm wrapped around you again, pulling you close as he rested his head against yours

Shadow sank onto the couch, his usually proud posture was slumped, his head resting against yours as he let out a low weary sigh.

Shadow rarely let his exhaustion show always pushing through without complaint. but tonight, it was clear he’d reached his limit.

“long day?” you asked gently

Shadow nodded, his voice low and rough. “yeah.”

you placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension coiled beneath his fur. “let me help.” you murmured

he glanced at you, crimson eyes searching yours as if trying to decide whether to accept. finally, he gave the faintest nod

you smiled softly and moved behind him, settling on your knees as you placed your hands on his shoulders. slowly you began to work the tight muscles beneath your fingers, kneading gently at first and then applying more pressure as you felt him relax

his head tilted forward slightly, exposing the back of his neck. “you don’t have to” he muttered, though the tension in his voice was already melting away.

“I want to” you replied, your fingers working along the knots in his upper back. “You do so much Shadow. let me take care of you for once.”

a soft, hum escaped him a sound you rarely heard but treasured every time you did.

your hands moved lower, trailing down his spine with carefully. as your thumbs pressed into a particularly tight spot, he tensed for a moment before letting out a deep breath his shoulders slumping further.

“That feels… good” he admitted quietly, his tone softer than usual

you smiled, leaning in to press a light kiss to the back of his neck. “Good” you murmured against his fur, your lips lingering for a moment before moving to another spot

Shadow’s ears flicked slightly, a subtle reaction that made your heart flutter and encouraged you to continue leaving gentle kisses along the curve of his neck, your hands never stopping their soothing rhythm on his back.

“Relax” you whispered, your voice warm and tender.

his breathing slowed, deep and steady, as the tension melted from his body. his head tilted slightly to the side, giving you more access to his neck

you trailed your fingertips along his shoulders now your touch light and soothing, “Does that help?” you asked softly.

Shadow turned his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “It does” he said

you leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek before wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. “Good” you whispered. “You deserve it.”

Shadow’s hand came up to rest lightly over yours, his grip firm yet gentle.

as Shadow leaned back into the couch, his body finally relaxed and tension-free, you gently brushed your hands over his shoulders one last time.

“There” you said softly, leaning down to press a light kiss to the top of his head. “Feeling better?”

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “Better” he murmured. “Thank you.”

you smiled, smoothing your hand over his arm before standing. “Good. Now stay right there I’m not done taking care of you yet.”

before he could argue, you made your way to the kitchen. the meal you’d prepared earlier was still waiting, kept warm in the oven.

when you returned to the living room, Shadow had straightened slightly his posture still tired but no longer as heavy. his gaze followed you as you set the plate in front of him on the coffee table, along with a glass of water.

“I thought you’d be hungry” you said, taking a seat beside him.

he looked at the plate and then back at you.

“You didn’t have to” he said quietly, though he didn’t hesitate to pick up the fork.

“I wanted to” you replied, watching as he took his first bite. you could see the tension in his jaw ease as he took his first bite

“You always do too much” he muttered

you leaned into him slightly, resting your chin on your hand as you watched him eat. “Someone has to take care of you” you teased lightly.

as Shadow’s plate rested empty on the coffee table, he leaned back against the couch his arm draped around you. you felt his warmth as he pulled you closer, but his gaze shifted lingering on you in a way that made your heart flutter.

his eyes traveled from your face, where a soft satisfied smile lingered, down to the dress you wore a black slip dress that clung to your figure just right.

“You wore this” he said quietly, his voice carrying that deep steady tone you loved. his fingers brushed against the hem of the dress where it rested on your thigh

“I wanted to surprise you” you admitted softly, leaning into his side. “It’s your favorite isn’t it?”

Shadow didn’t answer immediately, but by the way he was eyeing you answered that. his hand moved slightly, fingertips grazing the delicate lace trim as his thumb traced over the fabric.

his gaze flicked back to your face, and for a moment he leaned forward slightly his forehead brushing against yours as his hand rested gently on your waist his fingers against the silky fabric.

“so beautiful..” he paused, his voice getting lightly quieter as if the words were foreign to him.

Shadow’s other hand came up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face as his thumb lightly grazed your cheek. the soft touch sent a shiver down your spine.

Shadow leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss

his hand slid from your waist to your thigh, resting there lightly. his gaze dropped briefly to the dress again, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips

“You really did all this… for me?” he said, his tone low and teasing.

“I did” you said, brushing your fingers over his hand.

Shadow shook his head slightly, a quiet hum escaping him as his hand tightened just slightly on your thigh.

“You trust me don’t you?” he asked searching your eyes.

you nodded unable to form words

“Lay back” he murmured

you swallowed, heat creeping up your neck as you slowly leaned back, your body sinking into the couch beneath you. the second your head met the cushion, Shadow moved placing himself above you.

his hands braced against the couch on either side of your head

your breath hitched. you could feel the warmth radiating from his body the way he traced your features like he was memorizing every detail. you felt trapped in the best possible way completely at his mercy.

“Relax” he cooed

his expression softened just a little. then ever so slowly he leaned down his lips a few inches away from yours. he was waiting, testing you

Shadow lingered just above you, his breath warm against your skin. his crimson eyes flickered with something unreadable and it sent your heart racing. then a slow smirk tugged at his lips.

“I love seeing you like this” he admitted, his voice low and smooth, almost like a purr.

his gaze darkened, trailing over your face then down to where your chest rose and fell beneath him. he wasn’t touching you not yet..

“Laid back looking up at me.” His smirk deepened

finally, he moved, his hand coming up to ghost along your jawline, fingers barely brushing your skin. it was a featherlight touch, but it sent heat spreading through your body

“let me take care of you now” he murmured, pressing the faintest kiss just below your ear before pulling back to look at you again.

and with that, he settled closer one arm slipping around your waist as he rested some of his weight against you his presence consuming.

you could only stare up at him heart pounding.

HEHEHE

day 4 💌 on sunday!

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭�� 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦ﾟᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི

[engineering-a-better-world]

hmm what have been my worst technology curses?

i couldn’t open my camera app or else colorful static would streak across the screen. i had to reboot the phone to get rid of it every time. i had dropped this phone a few times but it had no cracks or anything

the computer touchscreen would think i was pressing certain spots until i pushed hard on the back of the computer in the corresponding spot

i tried watching something on the basement TV over a decade ago and literally no one can figure out how to get it to work anymore. it turns on and changes inputs and everything but the cable box and DVD player won’t show up

i would get all kinds of weird squares and text on my computer screen sometimes but it would shift or go away if i ran my cursor over those spots. it was like squeegeeing the curse off so i could use those parts of the screen

i tried doing long exposure photography on a nice digital camera and it wouldn’t last longer than a tenth of a second. this type of camera had the capability. i followed all kinds of tutorials for this specific model. no one could fix it for me

my friend was trying to test her temperature while we were on a video call. the thermometer gave an error a half dozen times before i suggested she hang up on me and try again. it worked on the first try. she called me back and it stopped working

i currently can’t charge my computer while using it or else it overheats and goes black. the same happens if Discord is open at the same time as the tab i played DnD on

the number of earbuds, dongles, and charging cords i’ve gone through is truly ludicrous. some kind of wire always comes loose and sometimes i can get things to work but only if i hold everything at the exact perfect angle. we thought the earbud problem would go away if i tried bluetooth earbuds. it took less than a month for one ear to stop working. the next lasted a tad longer but i just ask for the cheap wired earbuds because they’re going to break anyway

so many of my phones and computers were broken in the wildest of ways. someone fell down the stairs and directly onto my school backpack. i tripped over my power cord. i threw a peach pit off a deck and my phone fell out of my pocket and into a puddle, the screen peeling off in the process. somehow the charging cord fused something in my laptop that left it unusable??? this curse has followed me from slide phone to smart phone. i refuse to get anything very fancy. an OtterBox defender case is the most essential item for every phone. i need all the help i can get

i don’t know which technology god i angered in my childhood. my current devices are very kind to me so i hope i’m doing something right

my friend liz downloaded some free audio software a few months ago to do something and now every time she joins a call a female voice says “trial. trial.” and liz doesn’t remember the name of the software or know how to stop it and she doesn’t want to

[starrilly]

Abracadabra!

I was going for a vintage poster styled piece of Zatanna (DC). Inspired by Lady Gaga's new song Abracadabra! this is was literally the first thing i thought of when I heard it.

[leighsartworks216]

Meeting the Parents

Sylus x gn!Reader

Inspired by this post by @yes-no-maybe-soo

Dialogue taken straight from his tete-a-tete introduction with some stuff removed for the story

Warnings: hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, established relationship, death, cemetery, anxiety, lies of omission, cuddling, kissing, crying

Word Count: 1,564

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“Sy?”

“Hm? What is it, sweetie?”

You play with his fingers where they lay over your stomach. His body is sculpted to fit perfectly along your back, strong arms holding you securely, protectively, as you’re just waking up and he’s supposed to be going to bed.

You bite your lip, grateful that he can’t see your face or the warring thoughts blatantly expressed on it. “Would you want to meet my parents?”

He presses closer - if such a thing is even possible - tucking his face into your shoulder where he plants lazy kisses. “Why are you asking me about this now?”

“Well, Tara got a new boyfriend and she was telling me about how important meeting the parents can be,” you admit slowly. She’d gushed about it for an entire lunch break, in fact. Rambling on and on about how meeting his parents went, and how her parents just love him, and how big of a step it is in a relationship. ‘The most important step!’ she’d emphasized. It weighed on your mind since. “And I just thought… maybe you’d want to meet mine?”

There’s no way he doesn’t hear your heart racing in your chest. It’s impossible for him to miss the nervousness in your fiddling with his fingers, or the subconscious way you stretch out your legs to tangle with his. But if he does notice any of it, he says nothing.

He kisses over your pulse, intertwines your fingers, and hooks his leg over your hip, as though this is nothing more than a lazy Sunday morning.

“I’d be honored to meet them,” he whispers, soft and tender in a voice reserved just for you.

“Today?”

He chuckles warmly. “If that’s what you want, sure.”

You squeeze his hand, then pull it tighter around you, holding it to your chest like a plushie you’ve decided to cuddle. “You should get some sleep, first. We can visit them for lunch.”

“Oh? Are they already expecting me?”

“No… but they never mind visitors.”

He hums, a low sound that rumbles in his chest, and buries his face into your warm skin. “Whatever you say, kitten…”

His snores fill the air a moment later.

-

Sylus takes meeting your parents more seriously than you thought he would. He took a shower before you, and when you came out, he was meticulously going through his wardrobe to find the perfect outfit. Nothing too flashy, but nothing too casual - something suited for setting up a good first impression. A towel is still around his shoulders, hair dripping onto it in his focus. It brings some much needed levity into your aching heart.

“Sit down,” you chide him. He does so with a knowing smirk, but it droops back into a frown as he thinks on his options.

“Which shirt do you think?” he asks. You fluff the towel over his hair, squeezing out the water soaked into the thicker sections of his locks. Once it’s dried enough, you comb your fingers through his hair to brush it out. He’ll style it himself, of course, but you love feeling it so wild and unrestrained like this.

You look up at the two shirts hanging up side by side in the closet. His collared-shirt red-sweater combo on one side, or his simple white shirt. Both are casual, put together. A softer appearance compared to his usual black attire. He could choose either - they’re perfect for coming off as disarming and charming without flaunting his wealth - but he’s asking you.

You hug him around his neck from behind. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

You shake your head. “Nothing.” Still, you linger a moment longer before you pull away with a kiss to his cheek. “The red one. It’s my favorite.”

“The red one it is.”

-

You offered to drive this time. Unusual, given his proclivity for driving you anywhere you could ever want to go, but you play it off as it being in Linkon, your territory. He teased you lightly, but passed over the keys without a fuss. If you wanted to be the one to drive him to meet your parents, that’s your right.

After having to majorly adjust the driver’s side seat to account for your height, the drive itself is simple. Familiar. You know the way like Sylus knows his armories. Though, you know you can’t play it off forever. In just a few short miles, the ruse will be up. You tap along the steering wheel. How much longer before he figures it out? Or, if he already knows, before he says something about it?

You pull the car into the gravel parking lot and cut the ignition. You shyly look to the passenger side. Sylus looks straight ahead through the windshield, brows pulled together in a frown.

“Sweetie…”

You get out of the car before he can say anything else. Before he can back out. Look at you like you’re crazy or like you’ve betrayed him for keeping this a secret for so long. His door shuts a moment after yours. The small rocks shift under his nice shoes as he rounds the car. You don’t look at his face as you take his hand in yours and lead him through the big wrought-iron gate.

Rows upon rows of headstones, statues, slabs cover the area. Carefully tended grass peeks up in the spaces between. A path is formed from foot-traffic alone, guiding you deeper into the cemetery like a gentle hand on your shoulder. You know the way by now.

The wind blows through, the birds chirp their songs, the noise of the cars is distant… It’s peaceful. Sylus says nothing. You pretend to focus on the stones by your side to avoid looking at him.

You curse Tara for planting this idea in your head in the first place.

Soon enough, you slow to a stop in front of a wide headstone. Two names are engraved on it. Four dates. And a message. You picked it out just for them.

The silence grows unbearable. Hot. You wish you could sink into the ground, where hundreds of hands could hold and assure you. Where Sylus can’t see the tension in your shoulders as you anticipate him leaving.

He squeezes your hand. For the first time since arriving, you look at him, watching as he kneels down in front of the granite stone. And… he’s smiling. The furrow in his brow is gone. He looks at ease.

“Are you their parents? I’m Sylus. I’m your child’s boyfriend,” he introduces himself. He says it all like he’s talking to them. Speaking directly to your parents just before an awkward family dinner. “I run a family-owned business that covers a range of services and offers various products. We deliver fruit and even sell state-of-the-art technology, for example. My business has been doing well, and I work with a lot of talented individuals. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to discuss it in more detail another time.”

You slowly sink down to your knees beside him. You can’t stop staring at his face.

“My hobbies are very simple. I collect vinyl records, play the organ, and occasionally sing. According to your child, my singing isn’t too bad.” He looks at you, shooting you a playful wink. Your vision starts to blur. He turns back to the stone.

“I live alone and I have a relatively flexible schedule. I stay at my base most of the time. Otherwise, I’m in a hotel for business meetings or go to my private ranch when I need to unwind. I own several beautiful horses, and one of them has grown particularly fond of them. The two of them often frolic together at the ranch.” In that same soft voice reserved just for you, he says, “I like seeing them be carefree and happy.”

The first tears break free with a choked sound. He lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You hug his waist tightly.

“While it might not be obvious at first glance, I’m very good at taking care of people. Because of our time together, I developed new interests. I enjoy taking them to auctions and fashion shows.” He draws you in a little tighter, but his attention remains on the names before him. “I like seeing them shine. And their happiness is my happiness.

“As for the future…” He speaks with conviction, as though trying to fully prove to your parents his worth as your boyfriend. “I’ll always support them with whatever they want to do. I’ll also stand by their side without question.”

You press your face in his chest. He shifts on his knees to face you, wrapping his other arm around you in a full hug. He presses a gentle kiss to your head.

“How did I do?” he whispers.

You sob. It’s ugly and gross. Your chin wobbles and your face contorts as tears stream in an endless tirade, soaking into his sweater. His large hand rubs up and down your back patiently. Your voice cracks as you croak out, “They would’ve loved you…”

He ducks his head down, pressing his cheek to yours. Sweet kisses brush away your tears. “I’m sure I would have loved them, too,” he assures. And you know he isn’t lying. “Just breathe, sweetie. I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0

[semisasseater]

I don't like how you paint me― se-mi

⤷ Yet, I'm still here hanging

pairing : gf!se-mi x fem!reader | genre : angst, hurt, romance for 1 second, drama| warnings : hurt, eavesdropping, self-doubt + insecurity, implied emotional neglect. | summary : Se-mi’s apartment had always felt like home to you—until you overheard her conversation with Min-su The words cut deep, shattering the sense of belonging you thought you had. Heartbroken, you leave without a word. | wc: 1,174 | authors note : guys i have something to say.. i fucking LOVE gabby also do yall fw the new layout?

if you enjoyed likes or reblogs would be amazing! feedback is appreciated also requests are open!!

Se-mi’s apartment had always felt like home to you. Maybe that was your mistake.

Your hoodie hung on the back of her chair. Your toothbrush sat next to hers in the bathroom. Your makeup cluttered the counter, your perfume lingered in the air. Every little thing made it seem like this was your place too, like you belonged there just as much as she did.

But you didn’t. Not really.

Not after what you heard.

It was supposed to be an ordinary night—one of many spent by her side. You had been talking, laughing, feeling the warmth of her attention. But when you went to grab a drink, you stopped in your tracks at the sound of her voice.

“No, Min-su, you—ugh. You just don’t get it. She’s just… how do I say it? Too clingy.”

Your heart stopped.

Min-su’s voice was hesitant. “Noona, don’t you think that’s a bit rude?”

“I know it sounds rude and stuff, but she acts like a fan. She’s obsessed with me! Name one time she lasted a week without sleeping over at my house. Almost all her clothes and makeup and shit are at MY place! Why can’t she just—I don’t know? Min-su, I already have a lot on my plate right now! I don’t need a clingy girl just hanging around my apartment like she lives there! She’s always coming without my permission and shit! She’s too much, she’s annoying, she always—”

You didn’t stay to hear the rest.

You turned on your heel and walked out before you could hear another word.

Did she really think that?

Like a fan? Like an overbearing nuisance?

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you swallowed them back. You couldn’t fall apart here, not in front of people, not when you needed to move.

You hailed a cab and went straight to her apartment—the apartment that was supposed to be your second home. And the moment you stepped inside, you saw just how much of yourself you had left there.

Clothes in the closet. Shoes by the door. Your favorite mug in her cabinet. Your books on her shelves.

God. No wonder she felt suffocated.

For the next hour and a half, you packed. Every little thing that was yours, you shoved into bags. One by one, her apartment stopped looking like yours and started looking like hers again. When you were done, there were four full bags of your belongings sitting by the door.

It finally looked like Se-mi was living alone.

Just like she wanted.

You stood there for a moment, forcing a smile despite the way your heart ached. You were being ridiculous, right? You were clingy. You were overbearing. You had practically moved into her space without asking. This was your fault, wasn’t it?

Your phone buzzed.

You looked down and saw her name flashing across the screen, dozens of unread messages filling your notifications.

“Y/n? Baby? Where are you?”

“Y/n, where did you go?”

“Baby, this isn’t funny.”

“You said you were just getting a drink. Where are you?”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Please come back.”

“Did you go back to the apartment?”

Your grip tightened around the phone. How ironic. She was acting worried now, like she hadn’t just been complaining about how much she wanted space from you.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Instead, you walked.

The 30-minute walk back to your own place felt longer than ever. By the time you got home, exhaustion weighed on your body, but the ache in your chest hurt more. You took a shower, scrubbing yourself clean, washing away the scent of her that still clung to you.

And then you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, silent but unstoppable.

Did she ever love you the way you loved her?

Was it all just too much?

The buzzing of your phone woke you at 1 AM.

More texts. More missed calls.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me you left?!”

“Who picked you up?”

“Why’d you take your stuff? I was fine with it being here.”

“Y/n, just please tell me how you’re doing. I’m really worried.”

“Please, baby…”

“Y/n… I’m confused about all of this. You left the party randomly, then you took all your stuff back. What’s wrong?”

You laughed bitterly through your tears. What was wrong? Really?

You stared at the screen for a long moment before typing.

“I heard you.”

And then you turned off your phone.

You needed to change.

You needed to be less.

Less clingy. Less needy. Less overbearing.

Even if it hurt, even if it meant suppressing everything, you would do it.

If it would make Se-mi happy—

If it would make her stop seeing you as a burden—

If it would make her love you again—

Then you would.

Even if it broke you.

@semisasseater

[amatoryscripts]

Never Let You Go

Pairing: Soft yan! Caleb x Fem! reader

Summary: You've had back-to-back missions lately, and Caleb's getting fed up and concerned. Not only is he worried, but he also hates that he hasn't been able to spend more time with you lately. When Jenna calls, saying she needs you on a mission with the team, he doesn't like the idea and intervenes with you going.

Warnings/tags. MDNI +18: Soft yandere Caleb, forcing you to stay home, poor baby cares too much, obsessive and possessive, unprotected sex, use of "baby girl" "princess" "baby" "pretty girl", MC giving him the silent treatment,makeup sex, biting, so good he tears up.

Lately, every time you turn around, a call from Jenna would come through about a mission that would take up hours of your day, sometimes even longer. How often you've been disappearing in the last two weeks was becoming concerning. Especially to Caleb, who has noticed this the most. How could he not? Every time you two had plans to be together, you had to cancel because of a last-minute mission due to wanderers lurking around. It didn't help his anxiety when you'd video call him after these missions; you'd be bruised up and getting bandaged by the medical techs during a majority of these calls. It pained him to see you in those conditions, as if his own heart could feel all the bruises and wounds you've accumulated on your body.

He always tells you that you can say no to a mission once in a while. Seeing you relax on his couch, reading one of your books while he made you food was a more enjoyable image than seeing you covered in blood and injured. Despite him asking you to do so many times, you refuse. Your response would always involve your worries of not being there for your team and helping to save those around. You were always putting other people first. Sometimes, he wishes you were as selfish as him.

Today was supposed to involve a relaxing date night at his apartment. The plan was to eat dinner and watch the movie they didn't get to last time cuddled up on the couch. In the kitchen, he was cooking a new dish you've been craving to try for a while. Oyster Rockefeller paired with lemon rice and sauteed Korean cucumber. When you mentioned your interest in it, he took note of the dish and garnered the ingredients for the day he knew you two would be together. This is the only thing he's been looking forward to all week.

You sauntered into the kitchen wearing one of his t-shirts and shorts. You've always liked wearing his clothes, but he especially likes it, thinking it makes you two feel closer. Plus, he thought it was cute when you'd hide half of your face and body in his shirts when sitting down. You rest your head against his back, taking in the smell of the seasonings invading the air. "Smells good," you hum, wrapping your arms around his torso. Caleb smiles at your embrace, wanting you to stay attached to him like this all the time.

"I should be done in the next hour or so," he informed you, sautéing the aromatics. He could tell how happy you were that he was making this dish for you. He took pleasure in doing things like this. He didn't mind it one bit, relishing in your happiness and the way your face lights up when he would take care of you. You're very independent, but take advantage of the way he wants to do everything for you. Sometimes, you wonder if you're taking advantage of poor Caleb, but he would always respond with how his only wish in life was to make yours as easy as possible.

"I was thinking we could also play Mario Ka-" You were cut off by the sound of a call trying to get your attention. Caleb already had a clue of who it could be. He puts down the knife he was using to split open the cucumbers and watched as you took the phone out of your pocket. It was Jenna, as always.

"Don't answer it," his low and dark tone caught you off guard for a split second. He knew Jenna was gearing up to swoop you away, once again, to go fight off wanderers they could take down by themselves without you. He didn't understand why they always needed to involve you in all these missions.

"Caleb, I have to," you remind him, letting go to answer the phone. As you turned around to pick up the call, you suddenly felt your body be immobilized. "Huh?" you grunt, trying to move but to no avail. Caleb walks in front of you, taking the phone from your hand. He was using his evol to keep you from moving and answering the phone. His arms swing over your shoulder, covering your mouth with his hand as he answers the phone.

"Hello?... Hi, Jenna... sorry she can't come to the phone," you muffled through his hands, trying to get him to stop. Your eyes demanding for him to let you go. "She's actually pretty sick... yeah, it must be a stomach bug. Poor thing can barely even speak," he smirks, looking down at you. "I'll tell her you hope she gets better. Bye now," he hangs up the phone and places it on the counter. He continues to keep you restrained but removed his hand so you can speak.

"Caleb! Why would you do that?!" You press as you watch him go to lock the front door and return to your side.

"I don't think you should go on that mission," concern and domianance coats his voice as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. You knew he hated you going on missions, but to basically keep you hostage irked you in so many ways.

"That's not really up to you," you struggle. Caleb's overprotectiveness was nothing new to you. He's always made it known that he would never let anything happen to you and would always protect you. You appreciate and even love that he feels this way, but it didn't mean he could stop you from making your own decisions. "Let me go." Your tone is firm as you stand your ground.

"Only if you promise to stay here and let your team handle everything," he attempts to bargain with you, hoping you'd give in easily. Your stubbornness was the real threat to him. He wouldn't put it past you to try and run out of the apartment as soon as he let you go, attempting to join your team in their fight against the wanderers terrorizing wherever Jenna wanted to send you off to.

"I can't leave my team behind," you retort, thinking about how your absence might affect them. They were strong, and you had faith in them, but that didn't mean you were okay with the idea of not being there when they might need you.

"They'll be fine," he assures you. "But I won't be if you come back hurt again. It took you days to recover last time, and now they're trying to send you back out there." His voice is tender, wrapped with a hint of frustration. The last thing he wanted to see was you covered in bandages with blood soaking through and bruises not caused by him decorating your body.

He wasn't wrong. You weren't fond of coming home all banged up, but you took this job to protect people, something you want to do. If that meant sometimes getting hurt, then so be it. "Caleb, I'm strong enough to protect myself. I don't need you treating me like glass. I'll always get a scratch here or there, but it comes with the territory, and I accepted that. You need to do the same." You didn't get this far by being fragile. Jenna put you on her team for a reason, and Caleb needed to start seeing you as someone strong and capable, not the little girl he would protect from bullies and danger 24/7.

He stayed silent, cupping your face and staring into your fiery eyes. He just wants to keep you like this. At his whim and safe from the cruelties of outside. Was that so wrong? Wanting to keep you locked away being only with him?

"You can't keep me from doing my job," you sigh, knowing he was just scared of losing you again. You both shared that fear, so she understood him well.

"I can try," his assertion not wavering, standing strong in his goal to keep you here. "You're not leaving. You're going to eat dinner, and we're going to watch the movie like we planned, okay?" All he could think about was how this interruption was ruining this time meant for you two to be alone.

You were silent, your frustration consuming you as you stared at him with narrow eyes. You knew trying to run off would be futile. He looks the most determined you’ve ever seen him. Jenna already thinks you're sick, so what's the point? After another few seconds of staring each other down, you give in. "Fine," reluctance infuses your words, knowing he wouldn't back down. He drops his evol, and you move your shoulders around, relaxing your body.

At the dinner table, you weren't talkative like usual. Your attention was on the food, not looking up at Caleb once. You were too upset to properly enjoy the meal. Normally, you'd be showering him with compliments as you stuffed your face from happiness. At this moment, you were picking at the food, taking small bites as you worried about your team, wondering how the mission was going.

Caleb stabbed his plate, picking up a piece of the oyster on his fork, watching you ignore him. "I'm doing this to keep you safe," he suddenly says. You didn't look up, pushing a slice of cucumber in your mouth. He could even make cucumber taste amazing. You keep the praise to yourself, listening to him attempt to make you understand why he did what he did. "It drives me crazy when you're risking your life for others. Doing it back to back too often is insane." He grips his fork, which begins to bend slightly from his strength. "You can really hurt yourself if you keep pushing your body like this. I wouldn't forgive myself for letting you go out there to get hurt."

Still, you refused to acknowledge him, pushing the rest of your food around. As the silence continued, the sound of your phone receiving a message echoed. You checked the notification and saw it was from Tara, hoping you got well, while also informing you that the mission was a success and everyone was fine. That message made you smile for the first time since you sat down.

"I'm assuming you received good news and everyone's limbs are intact. Happy now?" You frown at his comment. You hope he didn't think you would forgive him easily because everyone was fine.

"Yeah, it's good to know I can stop feeling guilty for worrying about my teammates when I should've been there for them!" You hiss, standing up abruptly and marching into the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Caleb stays at the dinner table, not touching his food anymore from a loss of appetite. He didn't like it when you got like this. It made his heart crumble when you'd give him the cold shoulder and shut him out. All he wants is to be near you and make you happy. Now you were pissed and shutting him out. His worst fear, right below losing you forever. You were scary in this state, going from being sweet and loving to an eruption of anger.

You stayed in the room, covering yourself with the shirt you wore. holding your phone inches from your face as you caught up with your teammates. You heard Caleb leave the apartment a few minutes after you got up from the table. Curiosity about where he ran off to did creep around your mind, but you were still annoyed at his behavior. When you checked in with the last member, you felt better than earlier, knowing everyone got out without being heavily injured. Even if Tara confirmed this with you earlier, it still didn't feel right not checking in with them.

A knock at the bedroom door interrupts your scrolling through your Moment feed. You close the screen as you watch the door slowly open, a small, plushed brown bear poking it's head through the crack.

"Caleb wanted to say he was sorry and that he misses you. Can he come in?" a high-pitched voice, you assume coming from Caleb, chirps. You couldn't help the small smirk that danced on your lips. You stifle it as you respond. "You can come in".

Caleb's large body pushes through the door, holding the bear as he approaches your side of the bed with the peace offering. "I went to the arcade and saw this little guy," he explains as he holds the bear out for you. You take the gift, examining its little face and soft fur. "Bears are cute and cuddly, but we know they're ferocious when provoked."

"You calling me a bear?" your brows raise in amusement at his comment.

"Absolutely," his response makes you chuckle, almost forgetting why you were mad at him in the first place. You shove your face in the back of the plushies head as you took in how it smelt like Caleb already. He watches you indulge in the bear, looking more peaceful than before.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, sitting beside you. His hand travels to your blanket-covered legs, giving them a small squeeze. "I shouldn't have lied to Jenna and stopped you from going on the mission". You raise your head, listening to what he had to say. " I...I was just scared. I didn't want to see you get hurt again. I was selfish, not wanting you to disappear for hours while I would be here alone without you while you missed dinner and the movie." His voice was infused with an apologetic tone laced in sadness. You could tell he was just worried and wanted to do whatever he could to keep you protected.

You run your hand over his. "I want you to have more faith in me and my abilities to protect myself". His heart jumps at your touch and the softness in your voice. "I know me being a hunter is worrisome for you, but you have to believe that I'll be okay."

"I do have faith in you. I just can't stop thinking about what would happen if something goes wrong. If a wanderer hurt you or someone else did, I'd go crazy." His grip becomes tighter at the thought. You squeeze his hand to show him that you were there with him and not off getting hurt, trying to bring him back to the present.

"I can't promise I'll never get hurt, and I'll always be in the best condition, but no matter what, I'll always come back to you. That I can promise." He wants to say; How do you know you'll always come back? , but he didn't want to dwell on that thought when you were touching and looking at him with so much promise and affection in your eyes. He didn't want his worries to ruin this moment. Instead, he leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips. It started off soft and innocent but transformed deeper, filled with yearning.

"You promise?" he questioned, breaking the kiss to look at you as he cupped your face, not wanting to ever let go of it.

"I promise I'll always come back to your side," you whisper, leaning back in to continue the kiss.

Heavy breathing and whimpers flooded the silent room. Your face contorted in pleasure as Caleb's fingers worked their way inside of you, pumping at a rhythmic but swift pace, watching how you took his fingers perfectly, coating them in your wet heat. His lips found that delicate spot on your neck as he nibbled and sucked on it, drawing out those sweet moans he loved hearing from your lips. "You sound so cute like this, baby," he comments in a dark, sensual tone. "I wanna hear more." His thumb joins in on the fun, circling over your throbbing, sensitive pearl, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your body jolts and twitches as you cry out for him.

"Caleb! fuck...feels so good," you mewl into his hair, gripping his shoulder tightly, nails digging into his skin leaving behind crescent marks. His fingers could feel your walls tightened around them, signaling how close you were.

"That's it. Cum all over my fingers, pretty. Be a good girl for me, okay? Let me take care of you". He moans into your neck, feeling how hard he was getting from the sounds you were making and the tightness of your cunt sucking him in. His movements mixed with his words, encouraged your peak to shoot through your body, cumming all over his fingers. He slows down, drawing out your orgasm before bringing his fingers to his mouth, tasting you on his fingers.

"You taste so sweet," he coos, cleaning his fingers off as if he was desperate to get every last bit into his mouth. "Let me taste you some more," he whispers darkly before dropping his head between your legs. You let out a soft gasp as he connects his mouth to your soaking pussy, wasting no time to lap up your juices and shove the same fingers he just licked clean, right back inside. The combination pushes you further into your pleasure. He's relentless in his goal to drive you crazy. He sucks on your sensitive nub, humming in delight as you lose your words, spilling out whimpers and cries from how he was ruining you. Your fingers found his head and began grasping at his dark locks, pulling at them from the stimulation engulfing your body. He groans in satisfaction, loving when you got handsy like this. "Harder," he commands in a low groan. It didn't take much for you to tug on his hair even more. He made sure of it when he spread your legs wider, giving him the change to fuck his fingers in deeper.

"Caleb!" you call out, your voice soft and trembling. "I'm...ah~', your squealing elicits a wicked chuckle from his throat. "No, no. I can't, I can't." Your face twists as you lose confidence in your ability to cum again for him.

"Yes, you can," he growls, picking up his pace as he continues sucking your clit as your hips buck into his mouth. His fingers curl up into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your back arch. "You can do it. I wanna taste you cum all over my mouth" he sucks harder on her clit causing a high pitched whine to spill from her lips "Just one more time. Please, baby? I'll make you feel so good, I promise" he pleads for you to let yourself cum on his mouth. You whimper and buck your hips as your release finds you once again, dripping all over his lips as he hums in satisfaction. "Fuck... your such a good girl for me". He finishes lapping up your juices as if he was licking a plate clean.

Your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, watching him push one leg back to your chest. He wasn't done yet; he couldn't be satisfied until he was buried deep inside of you. He lines his throbbing cock between your legs, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds. "You want more of me, pretty girl?" he purrs, trying to hold back from slamming into you the way he wants.

You look at him with pleading eyes, nodding feverishly as you bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, wanting the same thing that was clouding his mind. He drops his head down to your ear, gripping your hip tightly as he nibbles and licks your lobe. A shiver infiltrates your body, going down your spine, causing you to push yourself up into him.

"Come on, use your words, princess," he insists, pushing his teasing cock between your folds just enough to make you groan in impatience.

" Please, Caleb. I need you," you whine. He drops down to your tits, playing with one while he sucked the nipple of the other, nibbling just enough to make your legs kick and wrap around him from the sensation.

" What do you need, hm?" he smirks, wanting to hear you beg some more. "You need my cock fucking this cute little pussy? you want me to ruin you, baby?" his voice was dark and tainted with lust as he twisted your nipple. " Cause I'll fucking ruin you if you want."

"Yes," you breathe, followed by a small whine. "I need you to fuck me so badly." Your plea doesn't become lost on him. He pushes himself into you, groaning from feeling how tight you were around his tip.

"Oh fuck!" he grunts, pushing further into you, watching the way your mouth part and eyes flutter. Once he saw you'd taken most of him, he pulls back slowly and shoves himself back in, evoking a loud cry from you that he soon began to devour, moaning into your mouth as his hips thrust into you. his movements were hungry, wanting his cock to be the only thing you could feel. He breaks the kiss, looking down at you watching how your tits bounced against your chest, gripping your hips tightly pushing them back onto him. "You look so pretty like this, baby. Do you like how I feel?"

You could barely speak, feeling too consumed by him stretching you out. You bit your lips, stifling your cries as your body succumbed to the warm heat spreading through you.

"Answer me, princess," he thrusts into you harder, making you gasp and whine as you grip the side of the bed.

" Yes!" You wail. " Love it so much...please... need more," you pant, catching his purple eyes that have darkened from his craving. He drops into the crook of your neck, lifting your hips up to give him more leverage. He slams into you erratically, the sound of your skin meeting repeatedly dancing in the air, mixing with moans and grunts trickling from both of your lips as the headboard crashes into the wall behind you.

"Wanna stay like this forever" he groans, using his finger to rub circles around your clit, adding more intensity to your body. "Fuck! Wanna always be buried in this tight pussy. Wanna feel you like this all the time." he expresses his desires, occasionally letting out a small whimper from how you were clenching around him. "Never wanna leave you. Never." His thrusts turn sharper as each word escapes him. You feel a drop of water meeting your collarbone, sparking confusion. You look down at him, lifting his head to meet your face. Tears were prickling the corner of his eyes as he looked at you with emotions and yearning flooding his gaze. "Please don't leave me," he grovels, continuing his sloppy movements inside of you.

"I won't," you mutter, kissing his forehead softly. You couldn't help but think of how cute he looked like this. So desperate for her that it brought him to tears.

"Say it," he begs, feeling himself getting closer. "Say you'll never leave me. Say you'll always be here. I need to hear you say it...please." He bites your shoulder, scrunching up his face as his balls tighten, ready to give you all of him. You mewl from his bite, a mixture of pain and pleasure taking over you.

" I'll never leave you, I promise! I promise!" your cries swamp his mind as he finds himself shooting his hot cum deep inside of you, letting your voice permeate his mind. His release is thrust deeper inside as his hips slow down, refusing to pull out. He looks down at himself inside of you movingly slowly, taking in the white ring around the base of his cock, as streaks of his cum drips down your inner thighs.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his attention to your lips. Your kiss is soft and saturated with affection. You could tell he's been worried about this for so long. The thought of you leaving one day, always floating and haunting him in the back of his mind.

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," he murmurs, catching his breath as he crashes on top of you, ensuring he didn't suffocate his precious girl. With his eyes closed, his fingers drew patterns on your warm stomach.

"And I'll make sure to always keep it." You kiss the top of his head, pulling him in closer as you pet his soft head, showing that you would never let go.

[lqveharrington]

Family Tree | D.M.

summary: Eleven years after the second wizarding war, you find yourself making lifelong decisions on platform 9¾ once more.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x fem!reader

includes: a LONG fic, daughter’s name is melody, talks about the war, abandonment, pregnancy, implied sex, cursing, hufflepuff slander (i’m a hufflepuff, i’m sorry), Pansy being a fun aunt & friend, teddy lupin mention being the coolest second cousin, melody is a mischievous child, teddy doesn’t like his god father, cursing, mainly angst with some fluff

a/n: i love him, your honor (he was truly my first love) this took way longer than i thought it would, so sorry 🙏

Years after you fought alongside Harry Potter to defend Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding World from Voldemort’s wrath, you found yourself packing trunks for Hogwarts once more. However, the trunks you packed were no longer yours. They contained unhoused robes and new textbooks that weren’t marked with your doodles and annotations. The pet carrier didn’t hold your own owl, but instead your daughter’s snowy owl.

Eleven years old. It was finally time for your daughter to attend Hogwarts.

The entire morning — the entire week — she would go on about finally being able to learn the spells and charms that protected the witches and wizards from evil. Just like you.

When you held her hand tightly to enter platform 9¾, she would continue to talk about seeing all the ghosts and paintings that were mentioned in all your stories. Of course, you never told her all the adventures you endured. She didn’t need to know where the Room of Requirements was.

“—And Moaning Myrtle! Is she as annoying as you said she was? I hope she isn’t. I want to ask her so many questions about you—“

“Melody, my love, you can’t bother the ghosts all the time. Hogwarts is a school.” You run your fingers through her platinum blonde hair and smile playfully when she scrunched her nose at you. You dusted off her shoulders and tilted your head, “What?”

“But it’s a magical school, mum. Shouldn’t I be able to ask questions if I have any?” She challenged you with a raised brow, pushing your hand away and adjusting her perfect hair — much like her father. She always wanted to be absolutely flawless, even when presented in front of you.

Your heart clenched at how similar Melody was to her father. Her smile and her mannerisms were all the same. It felt like you were eleven again and meeting him for the first time. The only difference between him and Melody was her eyes. She was born with your eyes — the ones filled with so much emotion with every single look.

Glancing down at your watch, you sighed and cocked your head to the side, fixating your gaze on the train that once took you to a place where you found everything and everyone you loved. Where you found him.

“Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be back every chance I get.” Melody took your hand in hers and squeezed, noticing your far off look. Her thumb traced the silver ring you wore on your left hand. She never knew what the M stood for on your ring — she always assumed it was for her name.

“I promise I’ll send an owl every week.”

“I know you will.” You pressed a kiss to the top of her head before your eyes caught a book being dropped by a young boy — who looked an awful lot like Tonks and Remus. Shaking your head, you bent to pick the book up and handed it to your daughter. “Can you quickly run and hand this to that young man? But come straight back. I want to properly say goodbye before you leave me forever.”

Melody rolled her eyes at your antics, but nothing could hide the smile that came with it. She made swift steps over to the boy before he boarded the train, eyes widening curiously when he faced her. The boy’s hair turned a bright pink as he thanked her, a sheepish smile gracing his lips.

“Are you a Metamorphmagus?” Melody whispered in excitement and watched his hair turned an electric blue. Her grin widened, recalling what you told her a while ago. “My mum says my aunt was one!”

The boy finally took a good look at Melody, a light bulb going off in his head when he realized who he was talking to. He recognized her the Black Family tree back at 12 Grimmauld Place. He opened his mouth to ask her who she was when his friends pulled him into the train without a single glance to whoever he was talking to.

Melody furrowed her brows in confusion before huffing, perfectly styled hair whipping behind her as she left to find you before boarding the express herself. She thought all Hufflepuffs were supposed to be sweet, but these Hufflepuffs seemed to ignore her like she was nothing but an itty bitty fairy.

She hoped she wasn’t put into Hufflepuff.

“My mum was one of the hero’s at Hogwarts.” She muttered to herself and — once again — flicked a piece of her blonde hair behind her shoulder, narrowly avoiding a collision of trolleys to her left. “I’ll tell her all about this.”

Melody made a quick turn to where she last left you before slamming into someone, nearly toppling over from the sheer force. She caught the person’s arm and yanked herself back before she could fall on her arse, mentally cursing herself for not looking at her surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She muttered and dusted herself off from invisible dust, looking up at the person only to find a man staring at her with a shocked expression. Was he really that offended by it? He was an adult and she was merely eleven.

The man blinked before shaking his head, schooling his shocked expression to one of nonchalance instead. He looked around and tilted his head at the girl standing in front of him, examining her face like she was someone he recognized before. This girl reminded him of someone he used to know. Someone he used to love dearly.

Melody pursed her lips and rocked on the heel of her Mary Jane’s, avoiding his gaze. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with his staring, but she wasn’t comfortable either. Just as Melody was about to excuse herself from the man, she heard your familiar voice ring out, making her visibly relax despite your tone.

“Where were you? I told you to come straight back.” You rushed over to her and ran your fingers through her hair once more, unaware of your surroundings. You were so worried she had left before saying goodbye and it absolutely haunted you.

She looked back at the blonde man behind you for a split second before tilting her head down to the floor. Melody knew that you were waiting for an answer — she just had to suck up the embarrassment.

“I was coming to find you when I knocked into that man.” She gestured behind you and held back a whine when you tilted her head to check her for any cuts and bruises.

Melody made eye contact with the same person she knocked into again and hid her face in your jumper, hating that all the attention kept going back to her. She felt scrutinized under his gaze.

“Mum.”

You sigh softly and turn your attention to the man, still carding your fingers through Melody’s hair. You kept your eyes trained on her until she relaxed, finally looking up to meet the said person when years of memories hit you like a freight train.

“I’m so sorry about Melody. She usually isn’t this distracted — Draco?”

Your throat closed up at the sight of him — Draco Malfoy.

It was your Draco. The one who promised to love you his entire life; the one who promised to never leave your side; the one who left you alone with nothing but a broken heart and an unborn daughter.

Draco swallowed thickly and looked away. He felt horrible leaving you alone all these years, but he couldn’t figure out how to explain to you why he left so abruptly. Especially when you were about to drop your daughter — his daughter — off to Hogwarts.

Everything felt so overwhelming for the small family.

The whistling of the Hogwarts' Express immediately caught Melody's ears, her eyes widening at how little time she had left with you before departing for the next few months until holiday.

“Mum, the express is going to leave soon.” Melody’s voice snapped you out of your stupor, her small hand squeezing your ringed hand — which didn’t escape Draco’s gaze.

You cupped her face with both hands, kissing her forehead. This would be the first time you would be away from her for so long and you didn’t know if you could handle the separation.

“When you have time, send me an owl right away. Include your house in the parchment, alright? Be safe and make smart decisions.“ You instructed.

“I will.” She locked a pinky around yours before wrapping her arms around your neck, breathing in your familiar scent one last time. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you too, my sweet girl.” You held her tightly and made the horrible mistake of meeting Draco’s eyes. You looked away faster than he could mark the emotion in your eyes. “Now get on that train before it leaves without you.”

Melody ran on the train and found a compartment occupied by a couple of other first years, smiling when you waved to her as the Hogwarts’ Express left platform 9¾.

“You didn’t tell me you were pregnant.” Draco spoke and pushed his hair back — the initial shock finally settling in his chest.

You sigh and turn to face him, arms crossed over your chest. Although it had been years, the warmth from his gaze still filled you and you hated it. You hated that all the love you had for him was still stored away.

“Why are you here, Draco?”

He narrowed his eyes at your deflection but answered truthfully. He might as well begin with the truth before anything else.

“I’m the auror assigned to protect the wizards and witches at this platform.” Draco responded before glancing at his watch, frowning at the time it read back. “I’ll be back—“

You put your hand up and stopped his excuses, shaking your head and frowning. Pulling out your own wand, you pointed it at his chest and glared. You would never let yourself be fooled twice.

“That’s what you’re good at doing, Draco.” You tapped your wand on his chest, your heart screaming to stop but your mind blocked out every emotion you felt for him besides pure rage. “You’re good at leaving. That’s all I know about you, and that’s all Melody will ever know about her father.”

Draco’s hands clenched by his sides but made no effort to stop you. He could tell — your eyes betraying your every emotion — that you needed to reprimand him. He could see the way you wanted to scream and shout everything you kept bottled in your mind. Every single memory you had with him building up, ready to explode with any wrong move.

“Love—“

“You have no right.” You whisper at the nickname and shake your head at him, apparating away.

Melody watched in trepidation as first years were sorted into a house after Professor McGonagall read off their names from a long roll of parchment. Each and every one of them grinning brightly at the rest of the student body when the Sorting Hat screamed their respective houses out. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long to be sorted.

After all, her mother blessed her with a last name that wouldn’t take ages to be called up.

“Bellemont, Melody!”

She beamed at the professors as she made her up onto the wooden stool, flicking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her shoulder as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her head. Melody wasn’t sure what to expect when the hat fell, but she knew she would rather move to America than be sorted in Hufflepuff like that group of boys she met at the station. They were all rude except for the Metamorphmagus she held an actual conversation with.

“A Malfoy who isn’t a Malfoy.” The Sorting Hat murmured to itself — and knowingly — Melody. “Clearly, you haven’t been raised with the pureblooded status quo. Perhaps your mother’s doing… But you have your father’s confidence and pride…”

Melody’s face twisted in confusion at the hat’s words. Who was Malfoy? Was that her father? Maybe her grandmother’s previous last name? She didn’t understand the hat, and as if it read her mind — which it could — clarified for the young witch.

“Your father was a broken soul.” The hat tutted and swished around her head like it was revisiting old memories of her parents. “Your mother wormed her way into his heart until she mended him.”

She blinked and looked over at McGonagall, who merely smiled at her. Melody pursed her lips and looked out into the crowd, hoping to find any kind of familiar face. Unfortunately, all her aunts and uncles decided to have children only a few years ago.

Melody frowned as the hat continued to make random comments about her parents, ultimately boring her from the ceremony. She wasn’t sure what the hat was going on about you and her father, but she was sure to send an owl to you soon.

“Nevertheless, your father and mother were in the same house.” The Sorting Hat commented before shouting its decision for everyone in the Great Hall to hear. “SLYTHERIN!”

Melody gave the applauding hall a tight-lipped smile as she walked over to the Slytherin table, finding an empty seat beside an enthusiastic prefect. She was ecstatic to be in the same house as her mother, of course, but now only one thing circled her mind. She didn’t feel the need to ever know about this before. You were all she ever needed. Yet the Sorting Hat planted something in her head, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Who was her father? And who is Malfoy?

“I’ve been getting the same question back from Melody in every single letter. This is starting to get ridiculous.” You throw the recent letter you received from Melody on the kitchen counter, rubbing your face in frustration. “What the hell happened at Hogwarts for her to suddenly be interested in who her father is?”

On a normal day, Melody would never pester you about who her father was. Now, it felt like you got a letter everyday about who her father was. You weren’t sure what the best move was. Either way you went, everything would change drastically.

Pansy shrugged and read the letter, raising her brows at the perfect cursive that could rival Draco’s. “Maybe it’s time you should tell her. It’s been eleven years, and she’s old enough to know about him.“

You spun the stupid Malfoy ring on your finger and huffed. “It’s not about how old she is. I just don’t want her to know that Draco essentially abandoned her. Granted, he left before I could even tell him.” You glared at the silver ring. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull the piece of jewelry off. “Besides, she already met Draco. It’ll complicate the entire situation if I try to explain it now.”

“Wait — when did Melody meet Draco?” She furrowed her brows and sat up at the new information. Pansy squinted at your expression before gasping, nearly jumping out of her chair at the realization. “At the platform?”

“Yes.” You groan and bury your head in your hands. Even if you did want Melody to know about her father at some point, you didn’t want it to be like that. She doesn’t deserve such an abrupt change right before she hopped on the express for Hogwarts. “Melody bumped into him trying to find me.”

Pansy sighed and took your hands in hers, watching your reaction very closely. “It’s better that you tell her about Draco rather than someone else tell her. I don’t doubt you’ll make the right call about all of this, but please tell her sooner rather than later.” Pansy squeezed your hands and sent you a small smile.

You bit your bottom lip and glanced toward the moving photograph you hung on the wall. It was a picture of you, Pansy, and Blaise right before Draco’s final quidditch game. You were laughing at something Blaise said, but the photo only played that far into the memory before resetting.

Pansy caught your gaze and waved her wand over to the frame, changing the length of the moving photograph. Instead of you laughing at something Blaise said, you were pulling an unamused Draco to sit beside you for the photo.

Your heart clenched at the sight, finally giving into your daughter’s pleads.

“I’ll tell Melody when she comes home for the holidays. I don’t want her to find out via owl.” You sigh and wave your hand toward the photograph, setting it back to the way it was originally.

The photo was taunting you to look back over, but your fragile heart couldn’t take it anymore.

You could always tell yourself you wanted nothing to do with Draco, but everyone knew that you would run back if you found the perfect reason to. Maybe Melody was your perfect reason.

“Melody, wait!”

The girl turned to the sound of her name — blonde locks flawlessly following through — and her arms tightened around the textbooks she held. Out of all the people at Hogwarts, she least expected to see the boy from the train station jogging toward her. She looked behind him for his friends — if you could even call them friends — but it was just the boy. The Metamorphmagus boy.

“Yes?” She tilted her head and creased her eyebrows when his hair turned a horrid shade of green. The color made her feel uneasy, forcing her to wait until it faded back to its original state to speak. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know your — er — name.”

The boy blinked before sticking his hand out, shaking her hand profusely. “I’m Teddy Lupin. I’m so sorry about my friends back on the express months ago. They found an unoccupied compartment and wanted to claim it before someone else took it.”

Melody slowly nodded and glanced at her leather watch, frowning when she realized she was already seconds late to a study session with a couple of first years she befriended. She pursed her lips and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Was that all you needed me for? I need to study for a charms exam.”

“Well — uhm — I don’t want you to not study, but I wanted to ask you if this was you. If it’s not, it looks scarily like you and has the exact same name. Except the last name matches my uncle’s — “

Melody barely processed the rest of his rambling as Teddy pulled out a photograph of a wall she couldn’t recognize. There were bits and pieces of the wall that were burnt and faces that were skeletons rather than perfectly painted — perfectly detailed — faces. It seemed like the wall went on forever until she glanced at the very bottom right.

Melody’s breath lodged in her throat as she read the last name painted beside her legal first name. Her eyes followed the family tree branch up to find — not her mother — but her father’s face painted on the wall. Although your face wasn’t painted, your name was still written underneath one—

“Draco Malfoy.” She whispered and looked up at Teddy with a shocked expression, hands gripping the photograph in confusion.

There was the last name the Sorting Hat kept muttering.

It was the same man she met at the platform months ago. The color of his hair — and the way you acted around him — should’ve been a dead giveaway that he was indeed her father. Melody shook her head and gave Teddy back the photo, determined to understand why you chose to hide this from her for so long.

“You wouldn’t mind helping me figure the rest of this out, would you?”

The wind breezing through platform 9¾ from the Hogwarts’ Express sent your hair flying through the air and your arms tightening around yourself. You were picking Melody up for the holidays and made the awful decision to not bring a stupid coat — thinking you could get out within minutes.

Silently cursing from how cold it was, you watch the students stream out of the train until you saw the platinum blonde hair you knew belonged to your daughter. Instantly, her eyes met yours and she ran. She ran until she knocked herself into your arms, nearly toppling the both of you over.

“Hi, mum.” She murmured into your neck and pulled herself impossibly closer. She tucked her chin in your shoulder, letting herself melt in your arms. “I missed you.”

You blinked away suppressed tears and kissed the side of her head. You didn’t realize how much you missed your sweet girl until she was in your arms again. “I missed you too, my love.”

You adjusted her Slytherin scarf — proudly, you might add — around her neck before pressing a kiss in her hair. You would make the most out of the two weeks you had with her if it was the last thing you did.

The commotion of the platform left the both of you unfazed as you went to grab her trunk from the express. You shrunk the trunk before tucking it away in your pocket, sending Melody a grin when she rolled her eyes at you. But as you went to leave the platform, Melody tugged you back in place with wide eyes.

You furrowed your brows and stared at her with a confused expression, hands ready to grab your wand in case she saw something that was potentially threatening. “What—?”

“Melody!” A boy ran over to your daughter and put a hand up as he took deep breaths, hair flashing many different colors before settling on purple. “I couldn’t find you after you left the compartment.”

You tilted your head at the sudden arrival of a boy before recognizing the face. You could recognize that face anywhere. After all, he was a spitting image of Remus and Tonks.

“Mum, this is Teddy Lupin.” Melody gestured to the tall boy and pushed up on her tippy toes to look past him, a small frown tugging at her lips.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Teddy.” You shake his hand and gently pull Melody back, eyeing her suspiciously before speaking to the young boy once more. “I haven’t seen you since you were an itty bitty baby.”

Teddy felt his heart kick up at the thought of you knowing him before now. You must’ve known him from when he was a mere baby. You probably knew his parents and who his parents were.

“You knew my parents?” He breathed with eyes shimmering with interest.

“Of course, I did. Your father taught me in my third year, and I absolutely adored your mother.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sighed, shaking away the thought of him being orphaned at such a young age. You would forever curse Voldemort for destroying so many families. “How are your studies going, Teddy? I heard—”

“Must we explain everything, mum?” Melody whined and interrupted your friendly demeanor. She didn’t want to stay at the platform any longer than you, but she needed to be here until he showed up, and she didn’t want to spend all that time listening to you being extra polite. It felt weird.

“Did you bring—?”

“He’s making his way over.” Teddy waved his hand in the air and rolled his eyes, slight annoyance filling them. Not because of her but because of his uncle.

He seemed to be taking his sweet time trying to find Teddy after he all but ran toward Melody the second he saw her blonde hair over crowds of reunited families. Although, he had to admit that his uncle was far better on time management than his god father. Harry Potter could save the entire wizarding world yet he still was late to all of Teddy’s milestones.

“He’s making his way through the crowds, although he was quite skeptic on why I suddenly asked him about dinner.”

You looked between the two and knitted your brows together. You knew Melody invited someone over for dinner, but you didn’t expect another person. So who was the other?

Before either of the two could speak, you interrupted with a stern tone. “Him who?”

“Ted, you can’t wander off and not tell me who we’re going to have dinner with — Oh, fuck me.” Draco caught up to his nephew, who he found standing beside the woman he loved all these years. He didn’t think running into you twice at the platform in one year would even be possible.

“Shit.” You mutter and quickly avert your eyes from staring at his disheveled figure, forcing your heart to steady itself.

Looking down at the two children, you crossed your arms and raised a brow. You couldn’t help but think the both of them planned it — and by the looks of their guilty faces — you knew you were right.

“What did you two do?”

Teddy folded before Melody could even utter a single syllable. He jabbed a finger in her direction as his hair turned a bright pink. “Melody did it.”

“Gee, thanks.” The said girl pushed his hand away from her face and met your questioning gaze. She knew she shouldn’t have surprised either of you, but she wanted the truth without you stepping on eggshells every single time. “Uhm…”

You tilted your head and waited for her to continue, feeling Draco’s looming presence right beside you. He was equally as confused by the ambush but was willing to listen to his daughter.

Melody nervously played with the ends of her hair before spilling everything, shutting her eyes tightly when she heard how selfish her plan truly was. If something horrible came out of this, it would’ve been her fault that you were upset and her father would never want to see her again.

“I just really want to know the truth! Teddy showed me the Black Family Tree a while ago and — well — I saw me on there connected to who I suppose my father is. And when I realized it was the same person we saw here, I knew I had to find a way to see him again. I want to know who my dad is, I want to really know him.”

Draco’s face twisted into surprise and looked over at Teddy for confirmation only to whip his head back to Melody.

“And your name was written underneath his, mum.”

Instinctively, you hid your left hand under your arm and bit the inside of your cheek. Though you weren’t officially married to Draco, his family signet indicated that you were promised to one another. Whether you decided to continue with the marriage or not wasn’t a controlling factor.

“You know he’s your father, what else is there to say?”

Melody peeled her eyes open and frowned. You were getting so defensive and she still didn’t know why you never told her about her father. Even Draco looked hurt by your words.

“Why did you never tell me?” She spoke softly — afraid that the only thing she’s ever known could fall apart in an instant. She loved you, but what you kept from her seemed so unfair.

“I promise I was going to tell you this week.” You matched her tone and pursed your lips when you saw her eyes swimming with sadness.

Melody shifted her attention to her father and crossed her arms, tilting her chin up with the same confidence he had at her age. “Did you come to the station on purpose?”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head, tucking his hands into his front pockets, fidgeting from habit. He hated confrontation. “No, I’m an auror stationed here when students head back to Hogwarts and come back.”

Melody looked to Teddy for confirmation — much like her father — and received a curt nod back, making her bite her lip in frustration. Neither of them was giving her the information she wanted needed. All she saw was the tension and the underlying love of two different people.

She wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, she could press on and continue bothering them. But on the other —

“I didn’t even know your mother was pregnant.”

You perked up at the mention and glared at the blonde, eyes filled with the same anger and disappointment he saw months ago. “And whose fault is that?”

“I’m sorry that I wanted to protect you.” Draco narrowed his eyes at you, his tone challenging yours.

Melody took a small step back. This wasn’t how she planned this to go, but this was more information she received than from the last eleven years.

“You made that decision yourself.” You whispered, voice cracking with hurt. The walls you carefully built around old memories chipped away as you recalled them all — each moment flashing in your mind. “I could’ve helped, Dray. Instead, you pushed me away like I was nothing.”

Draco furrowed his brows together and shook his head — you were always so stubborn and so correct. “You could’ve gotten killed—“

“I would have died to stay with you.” You instinctively grabbed his hand. “Do you know how long I waited? How long I used to stay up — wondering if you would ever come back?” The tears began to well up as you continued to speak, voice trembling and hands shaking.

Draco quietly listened and stared down at your ringed finger, his family signet shining for all the wizarding world to see. He promised to marry you — to take you away from the mess of the past.

Yet he still left.

“I was praying to whoever was out there for you to come find me.” You quietly spoke and finally dropped his hand. “You left me with nothing.”

The both of you stared at one another with unspoken apologies. No matter how long it’s been, you could still read him and he could still read you. To one another, it was like reading a childhood book that could be recited front to back.

After seconds of stiff silence, you turned back to Melody and Teddy — handing your daughter the miniature trunk and keys to your car. “Melody, take Teddy and wait in the car.”

“Mum—“

“Now.” You cut her off and watch her and Teddy leave the platform. Steadying your breathing once more, you looked back at Draco and twisted your ring. “Do you even have anything to say?”

He looked between your eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, voice small like the seventeen year old Death Eater he once was.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke with so much emotion you swore you could see the colors surrounding him. “I’m so sorry I left without saying anything.”

A noise threatened to leave your lips, but you made no effort to leave your position nor say anything.

“But I was vowed to follow my father’s footsteps by becoming a Death Eater.” He took your hand in his and traced the familiar lines across your palm, effectively calming him and you. “Waking up beside you brought me comfort in all the torture they made me endure. I knew you didn’t deserve to suffer with me, so I left.”

Draco watched your hand delicately hover his arm where the mark was, biting his tongue when you thumbed the space below — something you used to do back in sixth year when he got so overwhelmed with his mission.

“I can’t ever take back the day I decided to leave and never show up again, but I don’t regret it.”

You silently absorbed his words and sniffled — signs that were so clear to Draco about what was to come. He tilted his head down to meet your eyes again, giving you a weak smile.

“You raised an excellent daughter without me.” He tired to cheer you up but frowned when he saw the shimmer of a singular tear streak down your face.

“I needed you.” You frustratedly wipe your tear and look away, knowing that the vulnerability of your heart was completely at stake. “Dray, I was seventeen too.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of the both of you — so young and restrained by everything.

“I was pregnant and terrified. I didn’t know if I could even raise a child on my own.” You breathed and looked up at the glass roofing, pushing the rest of the tears away. “Imagine how different our life would be if you just stayed.”

Another tear escaped and — suddenly — your barriers crumbled. The mere thought of raising Melody on your own without Draco consumed your every being. And somehow — even with just you — she ended up exactly like her father.

“Yes, Melody is amazing, but I really needed you.”

Draco caught your eyes and instantly pulled you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin — refusing to let go of you ever again. His heart continued to break at your silent sobs, each sniffle and hiccup chiseling the crack that formed years ago.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and repeated it like a mantra, voice raw with so much sincerity. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m sorry.”

“I needed you, Draco.” You sobbed and breathed in his familiar scent as you buried your face in his chest. You gripped the lapels of his suit, eyes squeezed shut as if you were afraid he would disappear again. “For more than eleven years, I needed you.”

“I needed you too.” Draco whispered and tilted your head up, thumbing your streaked face. His heart ached from all the time he missed out on. “I’m sorry.”

It felt like ages before you pulled away from him. The only sounds that could be heard was your occasional sniffling and the hisses of the express. You took in a shaky breath and wiped your nose with the sleeve of your jumper, mouth moving before your heart and mind could catch up.

“Would you still have dinner with us? I’m sure you’ve been here all day waiting for the arrival of the express.”

Finally listening to your own words, your freeze before slowly meeting his eyes. You were more shocked at yourself than his answer.

“I would love to have dinner with you and Melody.” He answered truthfully before waving his free hand around with the smallest smile on his face. “And Teddy.”

You match his expression and tilt your head to the right, wringing your hands together. “Maybe you could finally get to know Melody.”

Draco’s lips curled into a fully blown smile, his gray-blue eyes sparkling with delight at the idea of finally knowing his one and only daughter. “I would like that.”

“Me too.” You say softly and — for the first time in a long time — hide the rising warmth forming on your cheek.

Draco Malfoy. The biggest love and loss of your life.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[cinnamqnx]

virtually yours ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

pairing. seishiro nagi x f!reader

summary. you’re not a usually a gamer girl, occasionally playing the sims or roblox, so imagine your surprise when a clip of you & your best friend goes viral for talking shit to who you imagined was a 12 year old kid, but actually a popular streamer with a territorial fan base and of all place, on dress to impress.

warnings. basically just crack & fluff, nagi is a lil toxic at the start, swearing

09 | facetime

“hello?”, nagi asks from your phone.

“sorry, i was just messaging ryusei.”, you reply, going off your messages app and back onto the facetime, seeing the top half of his face peeking on your phone.

“oh, okay.”

“alright.. back to what i was saying”, you say, watching nagi’s eyes flicker back up to the facetime, ready to listen.

“i won’t lie, you had me really confused in your messages.”, you continue.

“why?”, he asks.

“i just felt like you was suggesting something.”, you explain, “but i can’t really tell all the time with you.”

he hums, “i don’t know, maybe i was?”, he replies, his tone unsure.

“you sound unsure.”

he defiantly whines while his brows furrow through your screen, causing you to giggle, “you don’t feel like answering?”

“no, but you know what i meant though..”, his voice drifts off, “didn’t you?”

you think for a moment, “well, i don’t think i’d mind if people thought we were together.”

he’s silent for a moment, “really?”

“mhm.”, you pause, “but i would mind the hate from your crazy fan girls, though.”

“yeah. i know.”, he sighs, flopping backwards on his bed.

“but you don’t have to be so secretive about how you feel.”, you pause, “i mean, i have everyone telling me how you feel, but i’ve not heard it from you.”

he feels the anxiety pool at his stomach, a rare feeling for him, “well.. what have they said?”

“that you like me.”

he’s silent for a moment, “oh..”, he mumbles.

“oh?”, you ask softly, trying to pry more out of him other than a quiet ‘oh’.

“i dunno, i guess i do.”, he says quietly.

you giggle at his sudden shyness, “you don’t have to be so shy about it.”

he groans, “it’s embarrassing.”

“it’s not!”, you continue, “i promise it’s not.”

“it’s a hassle.”

“it’s a hassle liking me?”

“no, i mean.. i dunno.”, he sighs, “it feels childish.”

“and.. i’ve never even met you, so do you not find it weird?”, he asks, a tone of insecurity in his voice that you’ve never once heard.

“i don’t think it’s stupid, sei.”

he sighs out in slight relief, glad you’re not making fun of him, “it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“why not?”, you pry.

“cause you don’t like me back.”, he shrugs, trying to act nonchalant about it.

you hum before replying, “and who said i didn’t like you back?”

he’s silent for a few seconds, “what?”, his voice is quiet.

“well, i just assumed.”, he thinks for a moment, “are you maybe saying.. that you do like me?”

you hum in confirmation, nagi now having a small, genuine smile on his face from the other side of the phone, while his stomach fills with excitement.

this is a new feeling.

navigation. virtually yours

next chapter. 10

author’s note. sorry this took me longer to get out!! i’m pretty busy atm with life and college. this is also a pretty short chapter but i’ll be posting chapter 10 soon as well!!

taglist: @nensi @yuiearyi @mi2ukiss @pookalicious-hq @shumeow-h @solaqes @jellychannie @kermitbbg69 @pctterheadd @mizuwki @simpingmyassoff @karasu4life @crispynutella @stwberri @lilwx @suksatoru @rwura @ibyobi @renchai @nuhahani @digitaltrippers @natsukicookies @meekydeeks @ursafehaven @tamimemo @yukari1k @chaoslibra @mochiii-sama @cookielovesbook-akie @ningninjas @wallflowerdowned @hannimissesherbackbone @dinnersyummy @appalost @mbyy00 @asteraslvrr @kaz-0e @kascar-chronicle @arwawawa2 @rwbie @haruhi269 @lovessen @kaiserlvr @azharyy @hwaassaa @mikaru0 @sobbangchan @thenightsflower @chuurinnie @appl3-0rchard (closed)

[fairestwriting]

Hello 👋 could I please request headcanons for leona's fem s/o defending him everytime one of the other characters start making backhanded comments to his face (if you've seen some of the vignettes you'll know what I mean) she doesn't reveal things like he's depressed or anything (tho he is) she just tells them it's shitty of them calling him lazy/selfish constantly without even knowing him personally

[Everyone treats leona like crap and I take personal offense to it >:( ]

You know i make fun of him on a regular basis. but theres a line thats gotta be drawn when it comes to leona bullying. cause damn this guy needs a real Break he cant even have issues in peace

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Before you got closer to him, there’s a fair chance the comments didn’t even stand out to you at all. It always felt a little unfair, yes, but not in a way that was particularly shocking, they were all just rude comments like any other. Back when you weren’t quite friends yet, and maybe even at the start of your friendship, you might have interjected with a simple ”hey, he’s not that bad” or "you don’t need to be rude about it”. It was just a gesture of basic politeness then, something the people around you seemed to lack.

But obviously, your perception of those interactions, and the way you see Leona’s situation itself, soon went through a rather radical change. Possibly even before you two started dating, or even before he “told you too much” — His own words, mumbled dismissively but bitterly, the day he came back after spending a weekend with his family and then proceeded to complain for a little longer than usual — As he warmed up to you, you started to notice things about him more. You started to see the spark of actual passion he has in his eyes during his club activities, the level of detail he gets into when analyzing things, the precise way he moved his chess pieces when you two played...

Above all, though, you started to notice how he often looked actually tired when he took part in any of the “slacking” he’s so infamous for. Learning the littlest bit more about his family life just worked as the final piece of the puzzle you’d been putting together without even noticing — And then, other people’s “rudeness” started to sound like something much more cruel. It didn’t help that he never seemed to react to it whenever he overheard others gossiping, or whenever you told him about the things you heard. “Why doesn’t he care?” The thought would echo in your mind for ages, trying to understand him through the tiny slivers of vulnerability he didn’t mean to show.

Now, as his girlfriend, you feel you just can’t let people say whatever they want, and you feel it more strongly than you ever have. ”Why don’t you mind your own business instead of talking about someone you don’t really know?” You snap back on instinct when one of your classmates, who was in Savanaclaw, comments on how lazy their dorm leader is. Their mouth closes instantly, regardless if you’ve made your relationship public or not — You realize that, on top of all the negative treatment Leona got, it was also extremely rare for others to defend him in any way at all. Enough that even a response that simple elicits shock from others.

”You know, it’s crazy to see you hanging out with Leona like that. I never thought I'd see anyone get so excited to spend time with him.” You hear some other day, while spending time in Savanaclaw’s common area, sat right next to Leona, and it just makes your blood boil. He’s just half-glaring at your particularly cocky acquaintance, sighing like he’s heard it a million times before, which you know he probably has. ”Hey, make sure you don’t get too influenced, we don’t need another person who just sleeps all day—”

”Yeah, you’re right. This type of person can be such a pain. I’m so glad I don’t know anyone who’s, you know, actually like that.” You say through grit teeth, just barely holding back aggression, and in the corner of your vision, the subtle flash of surprise in Leona’s face only encourages you to continue. ”Imagine if like, the Magift team had this sort of player in it… the club would be done for.”

They stare at you with wide eyes, having very much picked up on the aggression. The entire room is silent, you refuse to break eye contact, arms firmly crossed. ”Well, I mean…” The student stammers, but then, Leona himself speaks up for once. ”Did you not get her message? You need me to tell you to shut up instead?” He snaps, and they frantically shake their head, eyes fixed on the ground. You feel pride swelling in your chest, almost unable to hold back your smile.

”You know, Herbivore, if I needed a bodyguard I’d already have one.” He tells you later, in that same day. His tone has that snarky edge that feels like his default, but it’s much less pronounced than usual. You can even see a sort of softness in his eyes while he tries to play it cool. But needing and deserving are two different things, you think. As interactions like these repeat, with you defending him every time, you hope your message fully gets through to him, one day.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[caracalla-dondus]

Suspicious Minds

Pairing: Emperor Geta/wife!reader

Summary: A senator informs Geta about the rumors surrounding his wife

Author's Note: This fic consists of pieces I took out from a much longer fic I had written. After reading what I originally wrote I didn't really vibe with the whole thing and so I took out parts I liked best to create this fic. Idk if it's better or worse because things feel a bit rushed in this fic now and not as cohesive as before but it's good enough I think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I was partly inspired by Fire & Blood where it says that some in court found Queen Rhaenys Targaryen suspicious because she spent time with bards and singers and they were sure she must be having an affair on Aegon I. Also the title is from the Elvis song of the same name because it popped into my head while writing this because it's similar to the plot lol.

~~~

The late afternoon sun streamed through the marble arches of the palace, casting shadows across the floor of the Emperor’s private chamber. Emperor Geta paced restlessly, his jaw clenched tight, his fingers twitching. The rumors had come to him this morning, carried by a senator whose words had been carefully chosen, yet laced with venom.

“She is often seen in the company of poets and bards, my Emperor. Some say perhaps too often.”

The words echoed in Geta’s mind as he strode to the balcony. Below him, others strolled about, oblivious to the storm brewing in his heart. He had always known that his wife had a fondness for the arts. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. The way her eyes lit up when she heard the verses of a poem she thought was interesting, the soft smile that graced her lips during the final notes of a ballad. She was a woman of intelligence and charm. Perfect qualities to be his empress.

But now those very same qualities and interests had become the source of his unrest.

~

Geta finds his wife out in the garden. “I had hoped to speak with you my wife,” he said, his tone polite but firm. 

“What troubles you, my love?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she stepped closer to him.

Geta studied her, his gaze lingering on her face, searching for some sign of guilt. But she looked as she always did, serene, composed, and beautiful. “There are whispers in the court,” he began slowly, “that your affection for music and poetry has extended beyond mere appreciation.”

His wife’s eyes widened, and then she laughed softly, a sound like the chiming of bells. “Surely you don’t believe such nonsense.”

“I don’t want to,” Geta admitted, his voice low. “But the court is not kind to a woman who spends her days surrounded by other men, no matter how innocent her intentions.”

Her smile faded, and she placed a hand on his arm. “Geta, these men are poets, musicians and artists. They speak to me about the soul, not the flesh. My heart belongs to you, and only you.”

He wanted to believe her. He needed to believe her. But the thought of her laughter, her attention, her admiration being bestowed on another man gnawed at him. “Then why do others speak of you so?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly. “Why do they say you adore Bacchus so much that you have embraced his indulgences?”

His wife stiffened, her hand falling away. “Do you question my virtue?” she asked, insulted that her husband would believe such nonsense about her.

“I question the company you keep!” he snapped, the words sharper than he intended.

She took a step back, her expression conveying her hurt and frustration. “You have always known who I am Geta. I am not a woman content to sit idly in the palace, just simply gossiping my day away. I find joy in the divine chaos of creation. If that makes me suspicious in the eyes of our court then so be it. But I will not apologize for things I did not do.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy with emotion. Geta clenched his fists, his anger warring with his love for her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer. “I do not wish to stifle you. But I cannot bear the thought of others questioning your loyalty or your love for me.”

His wife stepped closer, her gaze steady. “Then let me reassure you, my emperor. I am as sure of my love for you as I am about Sol bringing us the sun each morning. But if you doubt me, then tell me what must I do to prove myself?”

He sighed, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured. “Let the poets and bards sing their songs without you for once. Let Bacchus have his revelry elsewhere.”

She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “If it will ease your mind, my dear husband then I will stay.”

Geta pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if to shield her from the whispers that sought to undermine them. But even as he held her, a shadow of doubt lingered, refusing to be banished entirely.

~

The grand halls of the palace echoed with the click of her delicate sandals against the marble floor. The weight of her husband’s arm on her shoulder was both reassuring and suffocating. For the past three days, Geta had not let her out of his sight. Where she went, he followed. Where he could not follow, he sent his guards to watch her every step. It was unlike him, and though his paranoia was silent, she could feel it in the way his fingers tightened around her arm, in the watchful, almost desperate glint in his eyes.

She had tried to comfort him, tried to reassure him of her loyalty, but it seemed no words could pierce through the suspicion that had taken hold of him.

During a feast, Geta watched his wife like a hawk as she entertained a visiting nobleman whose son had written a collection of poems. His wife listened to the man intently, her soft smile never wavering as the man recited a verse.

But Geta saw something else. He saw how the man’s eyes lingered on her, how her laughter seemed to light up the room. His fingers dug into the armrests of his chair, his jaw tightening. Was it admiration? Was it mere courtesy? Or was there something more? The thoughts churned in his mind like a storm, dark and unrelenting.

When the man left, Geta wasted no time. He rose abruptly, crossing the room to where his wife stood.

“You enjoyed his company,” he said, his voice low but laced with accusation.

His wife blinked, startled by his tone. “He was reciting his son’s poetry, my dear husband. That’s all it was.”

“You smiled at him,” Geta pressed, his eyes narrowing. “You laughed.”

“Am I not allowed to smile and laugh?” she asked softly, though there was a tinge of frustration in her voice. “Must I always wear a sour expression to please you?”

His hand shot out, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “You are mine,” he said, his voice trembling - not with anger, but with something deeper, something more fragile. “Your smiles, your laughter, they belong to me and no one else.”

Her eyes softened as she saw the flicker of insecurity behind his harsh words. She reached up, covering his hand with her own. “And they are yours, Geta,” she murmured. “Only yours.”

His grip loosened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she might vanish. “I will not lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I cannot.”

~

For the next several days, Geta’s wife’s world shrank. Where she once wandered the gardens freely, now her husband walked beside her, his hand resting possessively on her waist. When she visited the library, he went with her. Her gatherings with poets and musicians were no more, replaced by dinners where Geta sat her beside him, his eyes never leaving her.

She tried to be understanding, but his constant scrutiny weighed heavily on her. One evening, as they sat together in their chambers, she finally spoke.

“Geta,” she began, her voice tentative. “Do you not trust me?”

He looked up from the goblet of wine in his hand, his expression guarded. “Of course I trust you, you are my wife,” he said after a long pause. “It is everyone else I do not trust.”

“You cannot keep watch over me forever,” she said.

His jaw tightened. “You are my wife,” he said firmly. “My empress. And I will not risk anyone else taking you from me.”

“Even if it means suffocating me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Geta flinched, as if her words had struck him. He set the goblet down and rose to his feet, pacing the room. “You do not understand,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I have enemies everywhere. We have enemies everywhere. They would use you against me. They would take you from me. Take your love away from me”

“Who could take me when I am yours in both heart and soul?” she asked, rising to stand before him.

He stopped, his gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he looked like a man on the edge of breaking, his carefully constructed armor of intimidation cracking to reveal the fear beneath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “But the thought of losing you terrifies me.”

She reached out, cupping his face in her hands. “Geta,” she said softly, “you will not lose me. I love you.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me you will never leave me.”

“I promise,” she said, though her heart ached at the desperation in his voice.

He pulled her into his arms again, holding her as if his life depended on it. She sighed softly, resting her head against his chest. She understood that his possessiveness was not born of cruelty, nor out of a need to stifle her but it was of a fear he could not truly voice, a fear he could not truly reconcile with, and it had consumed him.

And so she stayed, tethered to him by her love for him, hoping that soon his insecurities would ease and he would see that she was his, not because he demanded it, but because she chose it. But she was not sure how much she could take of this suffocating behavior. Of every move of hers and every interaction being heavily watched.

~

She rarely let her frustrations boil to the surface, but this time was different. As she sat across from her husband in their private chambers, the weight of the senator’s venomous words and their impact on her marriage gnawed at her patience. For days and days now, Geta’s suffocating possessiveness had taken over every aspect of her life, and she could no longer bear the thought that this rift between them had been instigated by a man seeking to undermine her, a man seeking to replace her.

She set down her goblet with a sharp clink, her hands trembling, not with fear, but with barely restrained annoyance and anger. “I’ve been thinking, my dear husband,” she began, her voice calm but carrying an obvious edge to it.

Geta glanced up from his seat, his brow furrowing slightly at her tone. “What is it?”

She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with uncharacteristic determination. “The senator who came to you with these baseless rumors. I believe he must be punished.”

Geta blinked, clearly surprised. “Punished? For what?”

“For daring to speak against me,” she replied, her voice firm, slightly exasperated that he did not already know what she spoke of. “For poisoning your mind with lies and causing this… this chaos between us. He sought to undermine your confidence in me, to cast doubt on my loyalty, to possibly destroy my reputation. That is not something we should let go unanswered.”

Geta leaned back in his chair, studying her intently. “You surprise me, wife. I thought you were above petty revenge. You have always counseled me against such rash decisions before”

“This is not petty, nor is it rash!” she shot back, her tone sharpening. “He sought to disgrace me, your wife, your empress. By doing so, he has disgraced you as well. How can you tolerate such audacity?”

Her words struck a nerve. Geta’s insecurities flared, his mind racing as he considered her argument. She was right. The senator’s insinuations had not only called his wife’s loyalty into question but had also implied that Geta was a weak ruler, unable to control his own household. The thought made his blood boil.

“What would you have me do?” he asked, his voice low.

“Demote him. Remove him from his position. Let it be known that you will not tolerate slander against your Empress.”

Geta narrowed his eyes. “And if others see this as an act of weakness? A sign that I am blinded by my love for you?”

“Let them see it as a warning,” she countered. “Let them know that your loyalty to your wife is unwavering and that you will not allow anyone to sow baseless discord in your court.”

Her words appealed to Geta’s pride, and she could see the gears turning in his mind. After a long silence, he nodded slowly. “Very well. The senator will be dealt with. I’ll ensure his removal will be public and soon.”

Relief washed over her, though a part of her felt dissatisfied about simply just having the senator removed from his position. The senator had meddled in her marriage, made her husband watch every move she made for days now, and he deserved to face more severe consequences for it. The senator has a daughter around her age, she felt certain the senator was likely hoping to get her pushed aside to potentially make way for his daughter to get close to Geta, for her to be the next Empress of Rome. Geta’s wife seethed silently at the thought of someone replacing her, of someone attempting to steal her position. She thought about paying Caracalla a visit and informing him of the treacherous senator in their midst. He would certainly give her the dramatic reaction she wants.

Geta rose from his seat, crossing the room to stand before her. He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze softening. “You are right. I should never have allowed his words to poison my mind. You are my empress, my wife. No one will come between us again”

She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch and calming for a moment. “And I will always stand by your side Geta. But we must stand together, against anyone who seeks to divide us.”

Geta kissed her then, fierce and possessive, as if to reaffirm their bond. She let herself melt into the embrace, even as a small voice in the back of her mind wondered if she should push for more to be done about the senator. 

~~~~

reader can't take out her frustrations on Geta so she will take it out on the senator who started all of this instead lol

[goldenroutledge]

if tomorrow never comes

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader

word count: 2.0k

prompt: ❛ i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, i just have a lot on my plate. ❜. based on this request.

summary: in which you and carlos drift apart and the tension boils over on your anniversary.

a/n: i’m having so much fun writing these requests! thank you to everyone requesting :)

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

“When do you think you can be here, Carlos?”

His voice is tight on the other end of the line, knowing that you won’t like the answer. “An hour. Ninety minutes tops.”

You want to scream out and repeat his answer back to him so loudly that he can hear from the balcony of your shared apartment. It’ll let all of Monaco know how ridiculous he sounds. The flight attendant’s presence at the other end of the cabin helps you keep your composure. “And you’re sure that’s it? One hour?”

“Yes cariño, I promise.”

“Don’t call me that when I’m annoyed with you.”

“Can’t help it.” Carlos smiles cheekily, you can hear it in his voice. You can’t help but roll your eyes, feeling that he’s not taking you seriously. Postponing time spent together, sometimes venturing into canceling dates altogether, was becoming too frequent for your liking. But patience had to be your strong suit dating Carlos. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yeah. See you soon.” You end the call abruptly, leaving him to a last minute business meeting while you’re sitting here, awaiting your boyfriend on the private jet he has abandoned. Then again it would only be considered abandoned had he shown up on time to begin with.

He’d returned home from training yesterday exhausted as ever, yet reassured you with the promise that you two would spend a few days on a quiet getaway for your anniversary. Just the two of you, alone together. A trip you’d been planning for weeks now, with the need to make it an anniversary you’d always remember. If getting away was what it took to get Carlos to relax again, to be with you free of any distractions from work, you’d do that.

Carlos regards his career with a dedicated spirit, diligently organizing his schedule to make sure nothing falls between the cracks. His training, his sponsorships, his future at Williams… As badly as he feels to leave you waiting, duty calls. A last minute Zoom meeting with a new sponsor held him back at the apartment for longer than he anticipated. While most people have already resigned themselves to the fact that they can’t have it all, Carlos Sainz is not most people. He’ll either have everything, or die trying. It’s one of the many traits you love about him. Your heart aches at the thought of it being what tears you apart.

“Champagne?” The flight attendant offers you the drink, one of two that was meant for your celebratory toast with Carlos to kick off your anniversary trip.

“Thank you, it’s been a long day.” The flight attendant gives you a sympathetic smile, watching you down the drink with no effort. If this keeps up, it’ll be a long weekend too.

–

Once Carlos finally joins you on the plane, his ask for forgiveness is difficult to deny. He brought you a bouquet of flowers so large they took up their own seat on the plane, and he hadn’t stopped showering you with love since he arrived. Something about making up for lost time, he’d mumbled into your ear when you questioned his overwhelming affection. The colors of the flowers tied in beautifully with your outfit; Carlos was sure to capture it with a few photographs.

His attention to detail was another thing that you loved about him, it drew you in everytime. When you’re together like this, free of the outside noise, you wish it could last forever. Always on the other end of the phone or outside the airplane window is something ready to whisk him away. Ideally, an anniversary spent with him would consist of a lazy morning making breakfast together, simply basking in each other’s company.

His company was hard to enjoy when you were barely experiencing it, now sitting alone at your anniversary dinner hours later. Your mood turned sour when Carlos excused himself to take a call, walking away from the table before you had a chance to express your distaste. The tension that had been simmering between you two was bound to bubble over once again as Carlos returned to your table with a guilty look, phone to his ear as he ended his call with his cousin/manager.

You didn’t bother to look up, taking your anger out on your meal instead, poking and prodding the food with your silverware. It was a delicious meal that did nothing to deserve a brutal assault by fork and knife, ruining its picturesque presentation.

“Mi amor, I’m sorry.”

“Did you know that the more you say those words, the more they lose their significance each time?”

He sighs, running a stressed hand through his dark hair. “You know the kind of pressure that I’m under right now, cariño. How much this year has worn on me in general. Please, I just need you to be a little more-”

“Understanding? Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.” You cut him off harshly, and the look you give him across the table is worth flinching from.

“You have. And I feel terrible, but it won’t last forever.” He attempts to soothe your worries, reaching for your hand. You don’t accept or deny his touch, you’re just still. It sends a shiver down his spine.

“You’re right, Carlos. It won’t last forever. You’ll make sure of it.”

“What do you mean by that? You think we’re going to break up?”

“I’m saying that if you don’t make time to nurture our relationship, there won’t be a relationship left! I’ve been here, Carlos. For you, for us, while juggling my own life and career, so don’t tell me it’s impossible. There was a time when you balanced it all before, when you weren’t working yourself to the bone because you decided you have something more to prove to the world.”

“I’m trying to balance everything, but it’s not always going to be smooth sailing. You know it’s not easy.”

“I know it’s not. I don’t need it to be, but I miss the days when you felt like our relationship was worth making time for. When I wasn’t the last of your priorities.”

“Maybe I miss the days when you understood that I’m not always going to be available for you 24/7.” Carlos rants, feeling defensive at how this time, the gloves are off, you’re finally letting Carlos feel the weight of the burden you’ve been carrying– loving enough for the two of you. Your pounding heart reminds you that it’s impossible to carry on like this. Something has to give. “Do you realize how much time I’m spending away from training to be with you? Is that not making time for our relationship?”

Tears prick your eyes in frustration, the air suddenly feeling warmer than before. Your nervous system begs you to get out of there, to leave the conversation before either of you say something you’ll regret. If it hasn’t been said already. “You still don’t get it, do you? I don’t even need any of this! I just want you! I remember the days when that wasn’t too much to ask for.”

Your hand has long dropped his, and Carlos’ eyes widen in panic as he watches you move out of your chair. “Amor, stay. Please, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Confliction moves through you like a strike of lightning, torn between staying to talk it through or taking a moment of space, after pouring out the feelings you’d spent so much time locking away. The last straw is when your waiter approaches your table, holding a small cake in his hands. On the top of it is a picture of you and Carlos together on your first anniversary, more content and in love than ever. A candle burns on the cake and wax melts down the sides, resembling the tears that wish to fall. Carlos’ eyes plead with guilt, begging you to stay and forget. Smile and pretend that right now, you’re still that happy couple printed on the cake.

Instead, you throw your napkin to your plate. “I need some air.”

–

Carlos watches you go, he doesn’t stop you. A timeout will do you both some good right now. He tries to tell himself that it’s not that bad. Couples fight. But he sits there, sullen, knowing that he’s fucked up this time. His heart burns as he stares at the picture of you two on the cake. It’s unbearable, and that little surprise he orchestrated now feels like a pointed joke at his expense. He blows out the candle and the light goes out. But closing his eyes won’t help his fear of the dark. Even he can’t run from this.

He finds you outside of the restaurant, sitting on a bench, staring down into the renewing waters of the fountain. It’s mesmerizing, the way you can drown in the sight and get lost in the calming sound. He slides his jacket off and wraps it around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, mi amor. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I just have a lot on my plate. But that’s no excuse to put our relationship on the backburner. I’m so, so sorry.” Carlos presses a chaste kiss to your temple, and feels comforted by how you subtly lean into his space. It’s a step. “I love you, and I’m going to listen to you. I want to make this better because there’s not a life for me without you in it. I need you, cariño. I want to be with you, always.”

“I’ve felt so disconnected from you lately and being here on our anniversary, reminded of all the happier times we’ve shared, I just… that scares me. I’m scared we won’t get back there if there’s any more distance between us.”

“I should’ve seen it sooner. The truth is, I am able to do what I do because you’re always there. You support me when things are up, when they’re down. When I lost my seat, when I got sick with appendicitis, when I won races… you’re there for it all. I took you for granted thinking that I could give everything I have to my career, when it’s you who deserves it.”

“You do give it everything, but I think you’ve lost sight of things a little bit. Usually you give me everything you have too, I mean the little cake with us on it… I love that you did that for me, Carlos. I’m only so upset because I love you too.”

Those words haven’t stopped echoing in his mind. He swears he’ll engrave them into his brain forever, as long as you’re happy. “Maybe I have been overcompensating a little bit, feeling pressure to make things perfect in my career. The year has been difficult, but I couldn’t have gotten through without you.”

You kiss his cheek, warming up to his affectionate words. He’s sincere, he truly means them. “You’re more than enough, Carlos. Just the way you are. Weathering the storm isn’t always easy but there’s nobody else I’d rather be with either.”

“Can we start over?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

“I have an idea. Should I throw my phone into the fountain, cariño? You’ll have my undivided attention for days.”

“Tempting, but no. Keep your phone dry, my love. Would you be opposed to going back to the villa? Enjoying the rest of the night in?”

Carlos wiggles his brows, as he recognizes that familiar glint in your eyes. One that shimmers with hope and longing. “We do have a pretty sweet cake being boxed up as we speak.”

“Maybe we can light the candle again? I promise I won’t leave the room this time.” Your hearts soar at the thought of blowing out your candle together, hands held as you make a new promise to each other. The past years together have been bliss and the rainbows have always shined through the cloudy skies. The next years together, you will wish for the same and even more.

“Anything for you, cariño. Happy Anniversary.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving you with no choice but to cup his jaw and bring your lips to his. The cool breeze outside is no match for either of you– you’ve got your love to keep you warm.

“Happy Anniversary, Carlos.”

💌: thanks for reading! reblogs & comments are very much appreciated :)

taglist: @marjorieswrld

[ramp-it-up]

Peach VI

Peach V | Peach VII

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. It’s definitely because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. You two FINALLY admit your feelings for one another and seal the deal. But how far are you willing to go for this love?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Artist/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: This is it! I hope the smut is up to par. When I tell you I’ve agonized about this. But thank you to all who were in my inbox and dms giving me encouragement this week. Love you bunches! ❤️

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in Peach V. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, eye fucking, Steve Rogers is an artist, y'all!, sending (almost) nudes, phone sex, possessive Steve, references to shibari, mutual masturbation, pining, references to sex in a car, the "L" word, oral (f recieving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple play, size kink, pleasurable pain with sex, definite breeding kink, raw p in v, Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint, references to murder. Something big may or may not happen after the last line.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-------

Steve Rogers left you in your hotel room, a quivering, emotional, mess.

He’d made you cum, hard, but you felt that he was holding back, that if you’d told him how you felt it would have been so much better.

Or maybe that was all in your mind. Steven Grant Rogers was on your mind a lot since you met him as Grant Stevens in Atlanta.

A lot happened in a short amount of time that caused you to deny your feelings for him. And now you were no longer trying to keep him out. 

He was definitely a distraction, but now you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer. You just needed to be a woman about it and tell him.

What’s the worst that could happen? You weren’t going to marry the guy, you just want to explore these mutual feelings. It shouldn’t be complicated.

Right?

You still had the rest of the week in New York to stress out about it, so that was a plus. The afternoon was ahead of you and the next day was the Summitt.

After that, you had your one on one with Steve.

Bucky told you about Steve being an artist himself during your meeting with him. So, for your meeting with Steve, you requested that you see some of his artwork, and he agreed.

You were curious to see what he could create, and you were anxious and turned on at the thought of him as a creator.

You were so into Steve Rogers.

And you didn’t know what you were going to do about that.

—--

Steve had to stop himself from going back up to your room three times after he left. He finally exited the hotel and stalked down the street back to the Rebirth building to his car and pulled out his phone, dialing Bucky and pulling out of the garage.

He needed a drive and a little alone time to clear his head and come down from you, but he also needed his friend’s help.

“Wassssaaaap! Did you get the–”

Steve cut Bucky off.

“Remember that shopping trip we took a few weeks ago? For the ring?”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Meet me on 47th street.”

—-

That afternoon, you just kept your distance from Sharon and ignored her, focusing on the task at hand and all business. You didn’t want to waste energy on her.

Your energy was spent on thinking about Steve and wondering if he was thinking of you too. You wanted to text him, but you were chilling. You didn’t want to seem to eager.

You were successful in your self control until 11 pm as you tossed and turned in your hotel king bed. Doubts, but mostly need and desire, coursed through you. 

You were going to find out exactly what Steve was doing right now and who he might be with. You shook your head at how much you cared; it was definitely not something you regularly did. You weren’t used to feening for someone.

You were choosing violence as you posed on the bed in front of the mirror. You sat on the bed, crossed your legs and snapped a picture.

You weren’t naked, but your panties were skin tone and your sleep bra was sheer and you were feeling needy.

Before you thought too hard, you sent it to Steve, then jumped in bed and pulled the covers over your head with that feeling of dread and panic when you don’t know if you’ve done something supremely reckless or not.

—

Steve was ready for the Summit, but he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Sleep was elusive, so he was self medicating, sketching your body from memory of mostly touch.

His phone vibrated and he almost didn’t pick it up, but when he saw your name, his heart sped up.

He clicked through to your message and his heart started hammering in his chest. 

Sorry, wrong thread.

The picture you sent along threatened to give him a heart attack. He zoomed in a couple of times and then read the message again. What the fuck?

——-

In less than a minute your phone was ringing. You picked up immediately.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Peach.”

Steve’s growl got you wet, but you instantly regretted your horny decisions.

“It was a mistake.”

“It absofuckinlutely was. You’re joking about it being the wrong thread, right? That is mine, correct?”

You shivered at his double meaning and at his possessiveness.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

Your voice was needy and that awakened a hunger in Steve. He was beyond frustrated that he wasn’t there to spank your ass raw, but he remained quiet.

You sensed his mood.

“If I were there, I’d make it up to you…”

You were testing the waters, experimenting to see if he would give you what you wanted despite his annoyance.

If he would give you what you needed.

“What would you do?” 

Steve’s baritone was silk in your ear.

“What?” 

You suddenly found that you couldn’t breathe.

“What would you do if you were here?”

“I’d kiss you,” you rushed out in a whisper.

Steve paused, letting your sentence hang in the air.

“And?” 

There was an edge to the question. 

“And… My lips. All over you.” 

Fuck, he was hard. Just a few words in your husky voice, and Steve delirious, imagining his hands in your hair as you kissed him.

“Where?” he asked mercilessly, his voice broken with lust.

“Everywhere…your face, your neck, your nipples, your abs. Your cock.” 

You were definitely not a virgin, but you were blushing through the phone although your hand was rubbing the skin at the edge of your underwear.

“Want you in my throat.” 

Steve had to concentrate to stay hard. 

“Oh? What if I want more than that?” 

“You can have whatever you want...” 

A sense of power flooded Steve’s body, both heady and intoxicating at your admission.

“You should be very careful when you make that offer, Peach,” he said softly. 

“I trust you.” 

Holy fuck. Why did that mean everything to him?  He cleared his throat.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

“Okay.” 

You complied so readily, it made Steve even harder.

Your clit was so hard as you circled it.

“Are you wet, Sweetheart?” 

You moaned and Steve reached into his sweats and curled his fingers around his aching cock.

“My pussy is so messy for you, Mr. Rogers,” you whispered, thrilled and afraid of how much you wanted him. 

Steve rolled his eyes as his cocked jerked for you.

“Such a good little slut.” 

“Fuck…” 

You realized the breath you’d been holding as you listened for his voice.

“Your pussy is so beautiful Peach. And god, you taste so good. Just like a sweet peach.”

Steve knew he had you in the palm of his hand. But fuck, you had him in yours too. 

“But your cunt is so tiny. I’m gonna needs to get you ready for me, Baby.”

“Is it going to hurt me?” you whined. 

Steve was about to explode at your little innocent voice asking the most nasty question.

“Yes, Peach. It is,” he growled as your anticipation reached 100.

Your breath sped up and so did your fingers. Steve grunted, his fist moving faster, thumb swiping the copious dribbles of precum dripping from his slit.

He should have known it was over as soon as he opened your message.

Hot sex was happening.

Electronically.

As the coil in your belly wind tighter, you realized with both joy and dismay that you were addicted.

“Steve, “m so close…” 

“Of course you are.” 

Steve soaked up your cute little sex sounds, thirsty for more. 

“You know what I’m thinking about, Doll?” 

A shaky breath was your only response. Steve continued.

“I think I want to tie you up. Silk ropes all over you, pretty little knots. I’d tie your arms behind your back, so those tits would sit up pretty for me to slap, lick and suck. That ass would be tied up so sweet and open so I could eat it.”

Your eyes rolled at the sensations his words and your fingers were sending to your clit. 

“I’d fuck your throat and cum all over that soft, sweet body. Over and over, while I tease your greedy little cunt. I want to see it drip down your delicious nipples, your belly, your hungry pussy, your pretty face. I need to see all of you covered in my cum. Everywhere, marking you as mine…Mine.” 

You gasped, and then moaned and your entire body tightened up then released.

Your mouth hinged open as you came. 

“Mine,” Steve hissed, tightening the knots around you both and jerking his cock until cum spurted out. He listened to your breathing and knew that you’d just cum as well. 

Suddenly, he missed you.

“You good, Peach?”

You hesitated.You heard the yearning in his voice and you wanted to be in his arms, but you lied to him anyway.

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled at you. He shook his head even though you couldn’t see.

“Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow.”

“Night Steve.”

—---

You needed a distraction.

Steve looked so delicious this morning, sitting on stage and serving art intellectual in a dark turtleneck and brown corduroy suit. A suit that was tailored to the detriment of everyone who looked at him. 

Holy shit.

This man was wearing a corduroy suit and he made it look damn good.  

And he made you feral.

You decided to give your cousin a hard time to prevent yourself from becoming a simp.

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

She didn’t look at you as you yanked her chain. She just continued to follow Bucky’s every move and lit up when he glanced her way. She was gone, girl.

You teased her some more until you saw Steve. You sighed and gazed at him, straightening your spine as you remembered how he made you cum twice yesterday. And he’d hardly touched you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Steve’s head turned. Those mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared in an instant. For a moment, you were frozen. Pinned in your seat by his magnetism.

This feeling was so heady.

When you realized you’d been caught staring Steve down, you tried to change the unspoken subject.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

“Fucking-A.” 

Her chuckle was all-knowing. Then she read you.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You couldn’t front anymore.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea about everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

She was speechless and so were you. You both continued enjoying the forum when your phone buzzed.

You look beautiful today. You’re my favorite thing to study. Can’t wait for today’s art experience. Meet me at the Laguardia Place entrance immediately after the talk. Sunlight is precious.

You were his favorite thing to study!

You waited on the edge of your seat until the end of the summit. Then you were up and walking out toward the entrance post haste.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you saw Steve watching you from the door of Rosenthal Pavilion.

His smile when you made eye contact knocked the breath out of your lungs.

In that moment, you realized that you were in love with Steven Grant Rogers. 

Holy hell.

His deep voice greeted you as you arrived.

“I’m anxious to get started.”

Steve searched your face and found a different look from the partially closed off expression you’d showed him since Thanksgiving.

Your face was open and trusting. His heart did a funny thing in his chest. It was almost too good to be true.

Could you love him, too?

He tempered his mood with sensible words, filling the space that he wanted to fill with romantic declarations.

“I’m going to take you to my favorite artistic landmark in the city. I’ve loved it since I was a boy.”

You smiled up at him and took his hand.

“Let’s not waste any more time.”

—--

The driver that was taking you and Steve to your meeting place was the same one who picked you up from the airport. The one that your cousin knew so well. 

You stared at the back of his head and then glanced over at Steve. He raised his eyebrow at you because of the look on your face. You grinned back, then leaned forward to tap the driver on the shoulder.

“So… Nico…” 

Your eyes cut over to Steve with a mischievous look. His heart beat out of his chest at the joy you were serving him along with your chaos. 

“You ever drive my cousin and Bucky around the city?”

Nico stole a look at you and smiled.

“Yes ma’am. All the time.”

“Do they ever do the nasty back here…?”

Nico laughed heartily as Steve shook his head.

“Peach…”

You shushed Steve.

“Hush, I’m trying to get the dirt. Now Nico, tell the truth…”

Steve sat back and listened to your unhinged behavior on the drive over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Your spirit and your laugh made him warm inside, despite the cold day.

—-

Nico stopped the car at the Washington Avenue entrance to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Steve got out, shouldered his backpack, and then reached for your gloved hand with his own.

For some reason, you felt like a princess as you stepped on the path. The air was crisp, and there were traces of snow lingering on the ground.

You came out of the car chattering and laughing, making Steve’s heart light.

“I know Nico wouldn’t crack, but I could tell from the way he went red. Those whores….”

“Literal Freaks,” replied Steve. “Bunny is an appropriate nickname for him, because he and your cousin…” 

Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes, although he fantasized about christening the backseat of the Lincoln for you and him.

The wrought-iron gate creaked softly behind you as you entered the Garden, and you looked around in wonder as the gravel path crunched beneath your boots. A magnificent metal and glass structure was in front of you.

“This is the Steinhardt Conservatory. Wait until you see the inside.”

Steve smiled and took your hand as you stepped through the glass doors into sudden warmth shaking your head at him. 

There was a heavy scent of flowers and a haze of the waning rays of sunlight beaming through the glass panels overhead. It gave everything golden highlights, including you and Steve. 

You squeezed his hand as you looked around in awe. 

“Beautiful,” you murmured.

And then you noticed that he was looking at you. 

“Yes…”

You grew warm as you looked into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“It’s like a completely different world in here.”

“It’s our world for the moment. Just you and me.”

He wanted to add the word Forever, but he didn’t. You felt it though.

You started on an indoor path and Steve pointed out the unique flowers and plants in his warm baritone. You were impressed, again, with how much he knew.

Steve Rogers was not a stereotypical mobster. This was a man who followed a path in life that landed him where he didn’t want to be and was trying to make up for it. 

As he spoke, Steve drew you into his enthusiasm, and you found yourself smiling and relaxing, asking questions and marveling at the vast indoor space. 

When you came to a small alcove furnished with a wooden bench and beneath a sprawling magnolia tree, Steve stopped and took his backpack off his shoulder, and then taking off his coat and draping it over the bench as you did the same.

"Please, sit." 

His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the subtle command.

You hesitated. 

"Why?"

"So I can sketch you."

Your stomach did an odd little flip. 

"Here? Now? I wanted to see your sketches, not be your sketches."

You performed on stage in front of hundreds with barely no clothes on and you were so nervous to let Steve Rogers sketch you with winter layers of clothes on. What was wrong with you?

Steve raised his eyebrow and his gaze swept up your body slowly, making you shiver. Clothes couldn’t stop the intimacy of that look.

“Too late for that.”

You raised your eyebrow at him and you felt irrationally happy. Steve had drawn you.

“Do you not trust me?”

You regarded him, guardian your reaction because you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“I do Steve. I trust you.”

It was true.

Steve smiled. 

“Then please, sit down.”

You gave in with a sigh and lowered yourself onto the bench. 

"Fine," you muttered. "But no weird artistic liberties. I better have a nose."

Steve chuckled, flipping open the sketchbook. 

"I make no promises."

You watched as he proceeded to balance the sketchbook against his bended knee. Then he looked at you seriously, holding your gaze for a moment before his attention returned to the page, and his pencil began gliding effortlessly across the paper. 

His thick fingers were surprisingly agile, moving with long, sure strokes. But then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised, with the way his fingers had previously made you feel…

For a few moments, the only sound was the soft scratch of his pencil against paper. 

You attempted to sit still, staring at the plants around you. You also tried to pretend that you weren’t aware of the way he studied you with that relentless focus, switching his gaze between you and the sketchbook.

After a few minutes, Steve made a soft noise, something between a hum and a chuckle.

“What?” you asked, turning your head and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Nothing.” 

He didn’t look up. But he spoke.

“It’s just... you’re trying so hard not to move, but you’re fidgeting anyway.”

You caught the hint of humor in his tone and it made you a little too happy again, so you decided to cause problems. 

"Well, maybe if you didn’t look at me like that.”

"Like what?" 

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, looking up at you quickly, then back down.

You fidgeted again.

"You know…"

Steve chuckled, deep and low and shook his head.

"Oh. Am I ‘sparkling my eyes at you again?’”

You scowled at him and he laughed.

“I'm an artist, Peach. I study form." 

His eyes traced up and down your body, lighting you on fire again.

You clenched your thighs together to fight the flow of arousal threatening your thighs. This was dangerous. Steve was dangerous.

"You're insufferable, Steven."

“Well, can you suffer on a little longer, so I can capture more detail?”

You cocked your head in that adorable way.

“What details do you need?”

“I need…” 

Steve looked at you like he needed all of you. 

And he did. 

“I want to capture the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, or how you're gripping the bench like you're about to get up and run.”

You unclenched your hands and sat back.

“You’re making me nervous.”

He tapped his pencil against the sketchbook. Then he looked down again to continue drawing.

"Interesting."

"What is?"

He licked those red lips of his and your eyes tracked the movement.

"The fact that I make you nervous."

The way he was looking at you made butterflies riot in your stomach. That special electricity was buzzing around you both. 

Suddenly, his pencil stopped. Then, without warning, he reached out, brushing his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face slightly.

You stiffened.

"Hold still," he murmured. 

His thumb ghosted over the curve of your jaw and settled at the edge of your throat.

Your breath hitched.

Steve’s eyes were dark now and his voice was softer when he spoke again, but there was an edge to it now, hinting at something rough beneath the surface.

“You always do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“React like this when someone touches you.”

You pursed your lips together and shook your head. 

Just you.

"You’re doing it again," he mused as he stroked the side of your throat with his thumb.

"What, Mr. Rogers?"

You were about to combust. He clenched his jaw and increased the pressure of his fingers on your neck.

"Fighting it."

"I- I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You do," he intoned, his voice stern.

"Don’t hide from me, Peach." 

Your pulse beat beneath his fingertips.

"You think I don’t notice how you react to me?" 

Steve’s hand grasped your throat, pressing more firmly before he let go.

"Hold. Still," he murmured, those blue, blue eyes stormy.

His fingers tilted your face up with authority now. You froze for a moment as his thumb came up to pull your chin down to open your mouth.

“Breathe.”

He slowly pulled his hand away and you had to stop yourself from chasing his touch. 

Steve clenched his jaw, trying to restrain himself. If he had to guess, you were wet and ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you right now. But he willed himself to be patient. 

He picked up his pencil again, rolling it between his fingers, like nothing had happened. 

"Good girl," he offered to the page as he returned to his sketch.

Steve knew what he was doing. Knew exactly how much he affected you. You waited impatiently, clenching your thighs together desperately as his pencil continued to scratch on the paper. 

"Done," he said, as he lifted the sketchbook toward you.

You gasped as you looked at the page. 

The drawing was stunning. Steve had captured you with uncanny accuracy, from the curve of your parted lips to the shading of the different colors in your eyes. The hollow of your throat seemed to pulse, and you could almost see the indentations of his fingers. 

The portrait was beautiful. And it told you everything you needed to know about how he felt.

“This is… how can I thank you?”

Steve’s heart flipped in his chest as he reached out and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him on the bench.

"Steve…"

His eyes went to your mouth.

"Say that again," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Your whole body was burning, but you stayed quiet. You were paralyzed with the possibilities.

"No? Too shy now?"

His voice made you impossibly wet. If you gave in, you were about to get everything you didn’t know that you wanted. And that scared you.

You let out a shaky breath. 

"Steve."

Something flickered behind his eyes. Something hot.

“Have I told you that I love the way you say my name?”

His hand came up again against your side, slowly, more deliberate. His fingers moved over the curve of your side, and slid against your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple.

He continued, tracing over your cleavage and finally landing against your throat again, pressing against your pulse and driving you crazy.

"You're shaking," he murmured, voice low, thick with need.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and gave you a kiss against your throat. And he lingered, lips warm against your skin, before pulling back just enough to smile against your skin.

Your whimper told him so much. 

"You act so tough, but you’re so easy to ruin."

You raised your arms and pulled him close, fingers playing at the nape clutching the hair spilling over his collar.

“You made me this way, Steve. And I don’t want you to stop.”

His now dark blue eyes searched yours as his fingers tightened on your waist. 

“What does that mean, Peach?”

He’d pulled you closer, his eyes on your face as he waited for your answer. The anticipation was so much. He huffed and then dove into the curve of your neck, inhaling and tasting you there, as if he couldn’t help himself. His large hands palmed your breasts, pressing your nipples insistently.

“Oh…my….Steve!”

You squirmed in his grip.

“I asked you a question. Do I need to stop touching you so you can answer?”

“Please, no, Steve. Need you...”

You were the queen of changing the subject.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

His lips were on the curve of your jaw, so close to your lips. You whined. He cocked his eyebrow, the question not so silent.

You huffed, making your decision to go for it as your hands came to the side of his face so that he knew your intentionality. You wanted to look into his eyes when you said it.

“Moment of honesty? I want you Steve. I feel…I want to be yours. Really been yours since you put your hands on me in Atlanta. I can’t categorize or control this feeling. So I’m giving in. Are you ready for the chaos that is me being yours?”

Steve’s eyes lit up and he reached for you, pulling you into his lap as his lips crashed into yours. His hands were everywhere. He tugged you closer as he kissed you and both hands came down to grab your ass and pull you onto his erection. His desire for you was apparent.

When you broke apart, you chased his lips and then kissed him again, greedy.

“I’ve been ready. Been yours for a while, now Peach. Since the day I saw you…”

His voice was gentle and he was looking at you like you were fine porcelain. You felt so safe in his arms. He pulled back to look you in the eye.

“And this feeling? This is exactly how it should feel when it's meant to be.”

He kissed you again and his mouth took possession of yours in a way that was tender, yet full of promise. 

“I gotta let you know that if you’re mine, I’m gonna give you what you need. When you need it. Do you want that? Do you trust me with that?”

This was the important question.

“Yes, please. I want that, Mr. Rogers, sir. And I trust you.” 

"That’s so fucking hot… but I’m trying to behave. Even though I reserved the pavilion just for us, we’re still in a public place,” he murmured. 

His voice was calm, controlled. But those sea blue eyes told a different story.

"You call this behaving?"

You rolled your hips against his cock. Steve kissed you again and let out a sexy chuckle, then stood you both up, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"If I wasn’t," he murmured, "you’d already be begging me for more." 

You linked your arms around his neck and looked up at him as the cutest woman on earth.

“What if I don’t want you to behave? Like you said, you have the pavilion reserved. You can bend me over the bench and fuck me raw. Right here.”

Steve’s pupils took over his eyes and his jaw clenched. Your stomach dropped as he looked as if he was about to do just as you suggested. But he took a deep breath and smiled.

“We’ll explore that kink later. Our first time needs to be in private.”

Steve reached for your coat and helped you with it before putting his own on and gathering his things. He took your hand and led you out and across the grounds. He pointed to a familiar building. 

“Your hotel is right there. Or do you want me to call Nico to take us to my place?”

You looked up at Steve as your breath vaporized in the cold air.

“We need my hotel. I’m ready. Right now.”

—--

You were in your room again, not entirely sure how you arrived, the journey through the park hurried and full of anticipation. You weren’t thinking too hard, you just knew you needed Steve. Immediately.

You were pushing his coat and blazer off his body and feeling his chest. The steady thrum of his pulse tapped a staccato in your palm.

“Your heart's beating so fast,” you whispered. 

“You do that to me, Peach.” 

“Really?” you questioned, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“You have no idea how much power you have, do you?” 

“Me?” you asked in a small voice. 

Steve nodded.

“You drive me crazy. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” 

It was confession time.

“It’s you that has the power, Steve. I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice gets me there.” 

You felt tongue tied as you told him your raw feelings, all the while taking off your and his clothes. 

“Sometimes I — I think I'm going to cum just from hearing you speak. Today, at NYU, I could hardly sit still. You're like a drug, pulling all my attention.” 

Steve’s shirt was off now and you were in your bra; he pulled you near him to get his mouth on you.

“When I'm near you, I'm so hard it aches.”

 “Really?” you whispered. “Are you aching right now?” 

Steve groaned as you pulled back to unzip your skirt and take off your boots. He leaned back against the wall and palmed his crotch over his pants. 

“Like you wouldn't believe.” 

Steve couldn’t believe that he had you here like this, giving yourself to him. He had to tell you the truth.

“Look at me, Peach.”

You looked into his eyes.

“I’m In love with you.”

His rough voice pulled an involuntary sound from you. 

“You're mine, Peach You always have been.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart thudded against yor ribs.

“Oh god, Steve. I- I love you too.”

Your smile blinded him. If he blinked it was because of that. Not that he was going to cry. 

Not at all. 

He laughed as an expression of joy and then your lips met.

The kiss wasn't soft or sweet. This was feral, sharp, and intense. You moaned into his mouth, sucking his bottom lip into yours as he unhooked your bra.

“I fucking want you,” you whimpered into his mouth. 

Steve smiled against your lips.

“Good, cause I fucking need you, my sweet Peach.”

Steve stood, looming over you, all big and fucking magnificent. The vision of him, all lithe muscles covered in smooth skin, and light feathering of hair making its way down his torso, between the defined planes of his abs and into his waistband, was… Good Lord.

You licked your lips, mouth instantly dry. 

Steve’s mouth hooked up on one side as his fingers worked his belt and fly. His pants fell in a matter of seconds, and there he was, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

Steve was all thick thighs, and long, powerful legs, his hand slowly stroking himself over the sizable bulge in his underwear. 

You gaped at him. 

Then, he pulled his underwear down, eyes on your face for your reaction. It was classic, your mouth hinged open and your eyes were like saucers. There was no way anyone could be that perfect.

His dick was long and wide, at least eight or nine inches, and curved eloquently (if a dick could do that) against his abs. It was so pretty and your mouth watered for it at the same time your pussy clenched, as you were thinking he was correct. You would struggle to take him.

His smirked deepened as he reached for you and pulled your panties down slowly, his short fingernails scratching your legs and making you shiver.

For a moment he just stared, drinking in the sight of you spread before him

“Fucking sublime,” Steve breathed, the words filled with reverence. 

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby.” 

He leaned over you and set about doing just that, kissing you deep and filthy, tongue diving to claim every inch of your mouth. You cried out, scratching at his broad shoulders as he suckled and nipped, worshiping your breasts until you were mindless with sensation. 

Steve took his time tracing your torso with his lips, teeth and tongue, learning your body and  paying attention to every sigh of pleasure as he climbed down your body.

The press of his mouth to your pussy made your back arch, and a ragged moan escape your mouth. Steve growled into you, the vibrations running through your soaked cunt.

He parted your pussy lips with his thumbs, and dove to lick your clit with the hot velvet of his tongue. 

Slow, thorough licks made you writhe beneath him. 

“That’s it,” he whispered, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Ride my face, Sweetheart. Fuck my mouth ‘til you cum all over it.” 

You arched like a bow as he latched on to your clit and sucked, two thick fingers thrusting deep to stroke along your inner wall. His practiced fingers found your g-spot and massaged it ruthlessly, curling and scissoring until you sobbed his name.

“Love when you call my name, Peach.”

He looked at you like you were something to be worshipped, and then continued what he was doing. When Steve bit down gently on your clit, your orgasm crashed over you in a burst of white light. 

You shuddered through the aftershocks, trembling as Steve lapped at your folds. Each lick sent a jolt of electricity through you, on the edge of too much. 

Rising to his knees, the thick, heavy length of him rose up again, even more swollen and glistening at the tip. 

Steve notched the thick head of his cock at your entrance and his eyes crossed as he slowly sank into your tight, dripping heat. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Inch after thick inch, he claimed you, stretched you, with a delicious push/pull of pleasure/pain. His length was one thing, but his girth was everything.

When he bottomed out, you both groaned at the intensity of the connection. He looked you in your eyes as your hearts pounded in sync, your breaths mingling as you got used to his size.

“I’ve never felt so full, Stevie…”

You quivered in his arms. And he knew that he was utterly possessed by you. It was more than just physical; it was an overwhelming sense of rightness. 

“Perfect,” Steve rasped.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. Like you were made for me.”

He dropped his head and trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, pausing to suck hard at your pulse point. 

“Please,” you whimpered, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. “Move.”

“As you wish.” he whispered, brows knitted together. 

You whimpered and your hands grasped the sheets as he started to move. He bent and sucked your nipple hard, causing a jolt of electricity through your body. Your brain was cloudy and you scratched his back as your eyes shuttered closed.

“Open your eyes, Peach,” Steve ordered darkly. 

As he looked you in your beautiful eyes, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. He started increasing his pace until he was fucking you roughly, pushing your knees to your chest. 

“Yes.. feels so good Steve. Oh my godddddd, fuck me!”

Steve’s eyes roamed your body as he did as you asked. Your beautiful breasts bounced. The bed knocked against the wall and you gasped for breath, your face transfixed on the eye contact between you and Steve.

He was lost, one hand gripped your hair, and the other braced on the headboard. He fucked you hard, grinding against your clit with every stroke. 

You were whimpering, on the verge of screaming as you two made noise up and down the hotel hallway.

He leaned up and grasped your throat, gritting his teeth as he asked a question.

“You want me to cum inside you? You trying to have my baby?”

“Unnnnnnghhhh! Maybe….” 

You opened your eyes and pouted up at him.

“Paint my walls, Steve...”

Steve choked on air as he spurted hot cum into your welcoming pussy, but he pulled out, shooting the last jet of cum on your clit and pussy lips. Then, like a heathen, he bent between your thighs and started licking. 

You sobbed, writhing as he devoured you. 

“Need to eat you more than anything, my sweet, sweet Peach. 

“Steve, Stevie… oh my god!” 

You clutched his hair, tugging sharply. It was too much.

“Oh my God. Please Steveeeee!” 

He raised his head, grinning as you fully collapsed, limp and spent. Your pussy was tender, your face flushed, your eyes gleaming. 

You were beautiful.

You looked at him and shook your head as he took you in his arms. 

“Are you mine?” 

“Yes,” you whimpered out. 

“I would die for you, Y/N L/N,” Steve murmured against your temple, panting. He held you tight, carding his fingers in your hair.

“I promise to keep you safe, and give you everything you need, I promise you that.”

“I believe you, Steve. I trust that.”

—

You and Steve stayed up late, ordered room service and talked about a lot of things, music, your parents, his friendship with Bucky, Nat, and Steve, everything.

You laughed and cried, and then settled back in his arms in the dark to sleep, his hand rubbing your hip as his breathing began to slow.

“Steve, can I ask you a question?”

It had been nagging at you for a while.

His sleepy voice answered you.

“Shoot.”

You chuckled.

“That’s just it. Have you ever… have you ever killed someone?”

Steve stirred, pulling you closer to him and moving his mouth next to your ear.

“Hmmmmm. I’d have to marry you before I answered that question.”

Your heart slammed against your chest and your eyes went wide in the dark.

“What?”

You tried to keep your voice even. You didn’t know what this feeling was that came over you. Steve continued, seemingly calm and not spiraling like you were.

“You can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. It was a joke, Peach.”

You were silent for a good while.

“Oh.”

Steve stirred, leaning up against his elbow.

“Do you… are you saying that you want to get married?”

Steve thought about the ring that he had at his penthouse.

You laughed.

“Nah… what we looking like just up and getting married like that? We hardly know each other.”

“True. But when you know, you know.”

Steve kissed you and the small amount of logic in your brain was rapidly dissipating.

“Would it make us look crazy…?”

You could sense Steve’s smile in the dark.

“…Or would it be so beautiful?” He replied.

Steve wrapped you up in his arms and settled down again. Your mind spun as his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and you spoke again. 

He was probably asleep, but you had to get it out.

“If you ask me, I’m ready…”

The light switched on and you were staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

——

I’m so anxious about this one! Please let me know how you feel? Reblog, comment, like. TIA!

[heliosunny]

Hi hi!! Can I request a yan! Jing yuan with an assistant reader? Like manipulative Yuanie. Thinking about how he’ll have one of the people who are your colleagues overload you with work so he can swoop in and save you like he was your “knight in shining armor”. Having you fill out lots of paperwork so you’ll have to work overtime and stay with him more is definitely something he’d do!

I think yan! Jing yuan would also take you out on ‘business dinners’ as he’d like to call it. 🤭🤭

I also wanted to ask do you take nsfw requests? Or maybe you can make a rules list too please!

Mwah ❤️ I hope you have a good day!!!

Yandere!Jing Yuan x Assistant!Reader

The workload had been suffocating lately. Stacks upon stacks of paperwork found their way onto your desk, each page demanding your immediate attention. Your fingers ached from gripping the brush for too long, eyes burning as you struggled to keep up. It didn’t make sense how your responsibilities had doubled out of nowhere.

"Ah, still working?" A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

Jing Yuan leaned against the doorway of your office, golden eyes filled with amusement as he took in the sight of your disheveled state.

"You're overworking yourself" he chided, stepping in. "That’s no good. If you collapse, who will assist me?"

You let out a tired sigh, rubbing your temples. "I don’t have a choice. These reports need to be done before the deadline."

Jing Yuan hummed thoughtfully, gaze flickering over the piles of documents. "Strange. I was under the impression that some of these tasks weren’t meant for you…"

His voice was light, almost casual, but something about it made your skin prickle. Before you could respond, he reached out, plucking a report from the top of the stack.

"Ah, this one" he mused, flipping through the pages. "This should have been handled by your colleague. How peculiar."

Your brows furrowed. Had you really been doing work that wasn’t meant for you? It made sense now—why everything had felt overwhelming lately.

Jing Yuan sighed dramatically, setting the papers aside. "It seems someone has been overloading you, either by accident… or design." He tilted his head, white strands of hair slipping over his shoulder as he offered a sympathetic smile. "I’ll have to look into this."

"For now" he continued, "why don’t you take a break? Stay a little longer with me. I was just about to have dinner—perhaps you’d care to join me? Consider it a business dinner, of course."

You shook your head, exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders. "I appreciate the offer, General, but I can’t. I still have work to finish."

Jing Yuan’s golden eyes flickered with something unreadable before he let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, such diligence. It’s admirable, really." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "But overworking yourself won’t earn you any favors, you know."

Still, you refused to budge. "I’ll manage."

Jing Yuan sighed, feigning defeat. "Very well, if you insist." He straightened, a small smile playing on his lips. "At least allow me to lend a hand. I can ease some of your burdens—"

"No."

The word left your lips firmer than expected. His smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze, something unreadable yet sharp.

You didn’t give him a chance to press further. With a quick bow, you excused yourself, diving back into your work before he could weave his words around you again.

By the time you finished, the lights are already on. The cool night air biting against your skin. You exhaled, finally free from the suffocating weight of paperwork.

Or so you thought.

Jing Yuan was leaning against one of the pillars near the entrance, arms crossed in an almost lazy manner.

"You’re late" he murmured, pushing himself off the pillar. "I was beginning to worry."

"General? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Working until this hour—alone, no less? That’s hardly safe."

"I can take care of myself. How old do you think I am?"

Jing Yuan tilted his head, his amusement growing. "I don’t doubt that. But even the strongest warriors aren’t invincible." He stepped closer. "If you had accepted my help earlier, I wouldn’t have had to wait for you like this."

"You—waited for me?"

Jing Yuan let out a soft hum. "Of course. What kind of superior would I be if I let my hardworking assistant wander home alone at such an ungodly hour?"

His logic was twisted, you knew that. But the way he said it, the way his voice dripped with gentle concern, made it difficult to argue.

"Come," he said, placing a hand on your back, guiding you forward. "I’ll escort you home."

-----

The moment you stepped into your office, dread settled deep in your stomach.

More paperwork. MORE PAPERWORK?

The stacks had doubled—no, tripled overnight. Piles upon piles of documents sat on your desk, some even spilling onto the floor. It was impossible. There was no way this much work had suddenly appeared unless…

Your mind flickered back to the conversation from yesterday. Jing Yuan’s words echoed in your head.

"It seems someone has been overloading you, either by accident… or design."

A sinking feeling settled in your chest, but you shook it off. You didn’t have time to dwell on suspicions, not when you were buried under all this.

You spent the morning frantically working, but no matter how fast you went, the papers never seemed to end. By midday, your exhaustion became unbearable. Your pride screamed at you to push through, to handle it yourself, but reality was much crueler.

You needed help.

And you knew exactly who to ask.

Reluctantly, you made your way to Jing Yuan’s office, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleeves. The guards outside barely spared you a glance before letting you in.

Inside, Jing Yuan lounged comfortably behind his desk, golden eyes lifting lazily as you entered. His lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Ah, what a pleasant surprise" he mused. "To what do I owe the honor?"

You hesitated. Even without looking at him, you could feel his gaze, sharp and expectant.

Taking a small breath, you finally spoke, voice quieter than intended.

"I… need help."

The silence stretched between you for a moment, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, Jing Yuan chuckled.

"My, my," he drawled, resting his chin against his palm. "So even my diligent assistant has limits. How adorable."

Your face burned, and you instinctively looked away.

"I would never abandon a subordinate in need," he said smoothly while walking over to you. "But…"

You tensed as he stopped just inches away from you, his presence overwhelming.

"I have one condition."

You swallowed. "What is it?"

He smiled. "You’ll sit near me while we work. That’s all."

That was… it? No outrageous demand, no unreasonable request?

Sensing your hesitation, Jing Yuan leaned in ever so slightly, his voice a soft murmur. "Surely, that’s not too much to ask?"

You bit your lip before reluctantly nodding. "...Alright."

Jing Yuan’s smile widened. "Good."

Without another word, he led you to his desk, gesturing toward the seat beside his. The placement left little space between you, the close proximity forcing you to feel the warmth of his presence.

"Now," he said, handing you a brush, his fingers grazing yours for just a moment too long. "Let’s begin, shall we?"

As you dipped the brush into the ink, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had fallen right into his trap.

The quiet scratching of brushes against paper filled the office, the occasional rustling of documents the only other sound. You sat stiffly beside Jing Yuan, fully aware of his presence as he worked leisurely beside you.

It wasn’t just the closeness that unsettled you—it was the way his eyes would flicker to you every so often, studying you between strokes of his brush.

"You’re quite tense" Jing Yuan noted, voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t look up. "I’m just focusing."

"Hmm." He leaned back slightly, stretching. "I wonder… do I make you nervous?"

Your fingers twitched slightly around the brush, but you forced yourself to keep writing. "Of course not, General."

Jing Yuan chuckled, clearly entertained. "No need for such formalities. We’re spending so much time together—surely, you can call me Jing Yuan?"

You hesitated, but before you could think of a response, he smoothly shifted the subject.

"I must say," he mused, "this is quite an improvement. If I had known all it took to keep you close was a bit of extra work, I would have arranged this much sooner."

You turned to him, only to be met with his usual easy-going smile.

"Just a joke," he reassured lightly. "Unless… you’d rather I keep you overworked? I could make sure you need my help every day."

There it was again. That subtle pressure wrapped in velvet words.

You swallowed hard and forced a polite chuckle. "That won’t be necessary."

Jing Yuan exhaled as if disappointed. "Pity."

Hours passed, and despite his slow, deliberate pace, he finished his portion faster than you. He hummed, watching you struggle to keep up.

"You’re still working?" he asked, feigning concern. "You really should take a break."

"I can’t afford to. There’s still too much left."

Jing Yuan hummed in thought. Then, as if struck by an idea, he leaned in slightly, his voice a near whisper.

"How about this?" His tone was warm, coaxing. "I’ll help you again tomorrow… but only if you have dinner with me afterward."

"You deserve a meal after working so hard," he continued, resting his chin on his palm. "And it’d be nice, wouldn’t it? Just the two of us, away from all these dreadful reports?"

It sounded harmless enough.

Reluctantly, you nodded. "Alright."

Jing Yuan smiled, pleased.

"Good" he murmured. "Then it’s a promise."

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the Xianzhou Luofu in a soft, warm glow. Lanterns flickered to life as you walked beside Jing Yuan, your exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. He had insisted on walking with you, his usual lazy smile in place, but there was an unmistakable satisfaction in his gaze.

You had been too drained to argue.

The restaurant he chose was far from the usual places where officials gathered for formal meetings. It was intimate, the kind of place that felt too personal for just work.

"You didn’t have to pick somewhere this… refined" you murmured, hesitant as you stepped inside.

Jing Yuan chuckled. "Nonsense. You deserve a proper meal after all your hard work." He guided you to a private table tucked away from prying eyes, his hand lingering just a second too long against your back.

As you sat down, a waiter arrived almost instantly, as if they had been expecting you.

"Order whatever you like," Jing Yuan encouraged, waving a hand dismissively. "Consider it a reward for your dedication."

You hesitated before cautiously selecting something modest. The last thing you wanted was to feel indebted.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, ordered without restraint.

"You know" he mused, "I admire your work ethic, but I do wonder—do you ever take time for yourself?"

"I don’t have much choice. The workload has been… demanding."

His golden eyes glinted. "Ah, yes. It seems someone keeps piling too much on you, doesn’t it?"

You glanced at him suspiciously, but he merely took a sip of his wine, his expression unreadable.

"It’s a shame" he continued, "how easily people take advantage of you. Always so responsible, so eager to prove yourself… It makes you an easy target."

His words struck a nerve—not because they were wrong, but because he was speaking as if he weren’t the very person orchestrating your exhaustion.

"You make it sound like I’m helpless" you muttered.

Jing Yuan let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Not at all. You’re quite capable… But even the strongest warriors need someone to protect them sometimes."

There it was again. That gentle, insistent push—reminding you that he was the only one who truly saw you, the only one who cared enough to step in.

Your meal arrived, breaking the tension momentarily. You focused on eating, but Jing Yuan never stopped watching, his gaze following every small movement you made.

"You should eat more" he remarked at one point, nudging a dish toward you. "You push yourself too hard. It worries me."

"This is just a business dinner" you reminded him, almost as if you were reminding yourself.

"Of course," he agreed easily. "Just business."

But the way he poured you another drink, the way his fingers brushed against yours with each small gesture, told you otherwise.

Jing Yuan was in no rush to leave, drawing out the meal with casual conversation and idle remarks about work, yet every topic always circled back to you.

"You should rest more." "You work too hard." "It must be exhausting, always carrying everything on your shoulders."

His voice was gentle, warm, the perfect balance of concern and admiration.

“I should head home” you finally said, setting your chopsticks down. “It’s getting late.”

Jing Yuan tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes studying you in silence. Then, he sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair.

"I suppose you’re right" he said, sounding almost disappointed. "I wouldn’t want to keep you from your much-needed rest."

Relief flooded you—until he added, “I’ll escort you.”

You tensed. “That’s really not necessary...”

"I insist."

You swallowed your protest, knowing that arguing would only drag this out longer. With a quiet nod, you allowed him to walk you home. The city was quiet at this hour, save for the occasional passerby. Yet somehow, despite the openness of it all, you felt cornered.

Jing Yuan didn’t speak much, but the silence between you was anything but comfortable. When you finally arrived at your door, you turned to him quickly, hoping to end the night before he could push further. "Thank you for the dinner, General."

Jing Yuan smiled. "No need to be so formal. After all," he reached out, lightly brushing his fingers against the back of your hand, "we're much closer now, aren’t we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could step back, he withdrew his hand with a chuckle.

"Rest well, I'll see you at work tomorrow."

With that, he turned and walked away, his figure slowly disappearing into the night.

-----

Jing Yuan had been in a good mood that morning.

You had shyly asked for his help, relied on him, and even allowed him to walk you home. His patience was paying off, you were already beginning to lean on him, just as he had planned.

So when he strolled into the office, humming softly to himself, he expected to find you waiting for him, as usual.

Instead, what he saw made his easygoing expression freeze.

There you were, standing beside another officer, chatting casually as if the exhaustion from yesterday had never existed.

Jing Yuan’s sharp eyes immediately honed in on the scene—on the way you nodded, the small laugh you let out at something the officer said.

That wasn’t part of the plan.

The lazy, pleased expression he had worn all morning dulled into something unreadable.

Slowly, he stepped forward, his presence casting a long shadow as he approached.

Your conversation stalled the moment you noticed him. The officer beside you stiffened, standing at attention.

"Ah, General!" the officer greeted with forced politeness. "Good morning."

Jing Yuan’s golden eyes didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, they remained on you.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly, but there was no warmth in his voice. "I hope I’m not… interrupting anything important?"

"No, we were just talking about-"

"Ah, I see," Jing Yuan interrupted "And here I thought you had your hands full with work."

The officer looked between the two of you, sensing the tension. "I should get going" he mumbled quickly before excusing himself.

"Was something wrong?"

Jing Yuan chuckled, shaking his head. "Not at all," he said lightly, stepping closer. "I just found it surprising."

"Surprising?"

"That you still have the energy to entertain idle chatter… after all that work."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Jing Yuan placed a hand on your shoulder—gentle, yet firm enough to root you in place.

"Come now" he murmured, voice as smooth as silk. "There’s still plenty to do, isn’t there?"

In that moment, you understood—he wasn’t pleased.

And he wouldn’t let this slide.

The tension from the morning never fully left.

Jing Yuan acted as if nothing had happened, his usual lazy smile in place, his voice carrying the same smooth, amused tone.

But you could feel it.

The real punishment began soon after.

It started subtly.

Your workload, already overwhelming, suddenly doubled.

Requests that would usually be divided among the other assistants somehow all ended up on your desk. Forms, reports, urgent documents—all requiring immediate attention, all piling up at an alarming rate.

By noon, you could barely breathe under the pressure.

Still, you pushed through, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you struggle.

But just as you were starting to make progress, Jing Yuan’s voice interrupted your focus.

"Ah, this one’s incorrect." he mused, holding up a form you had completed earlier.

You blinked, frowning. "But I—"

"Fix it for me, won’t you?" he cut in smoothly, placing it back on your desk.

You stared at the document, confusion creeping in. You were certain you had filled it out correctly. But when you reached for another, you saw that the one you had submitted before, the one he himself had approved, was suddenly filled with minor errors.

Mistakes that hadn’t been there before.

Had he… altered them?

Before you could question it, he spoke again, his tone light and teasing.

"It’s unlike you to be so careless" he mused, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you. "Are you perhaps… distracted?"

He was toying with you.

And yet, what could you say?

Accusing him directly would only backfire.

So, you swallowed your frustration and forced yourself to keep working.

By the time evening arrived, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin. You could barely think straight, your hands aching from the relentless writing. Just as you were about to gather your things to leave, a shadow fell over your desk. Jing Yuan.

"You’ve worked so hard today" he said, his voice like silk. "Why don’t I treat you to dinner again?"

Your body screamed for rest, but you knew—this wasn’t an invitation.

It was a test.

And you already knew what happened to those who disappointed him.

So, with a quiet nod, you accepted.

And just like that, he won again.

-----

I think I'll update some rules if I have time.

For now, I don't receive NSFW content, it's a bit challenging for me in that field. :3 I rather focus on what I'm capable of doing rather than accepting all requests and giving you unwanted results.

[multific]

Dreams in Velvet Shadows

Count Orlok x Reader

Summary: In your loneliness, you called for him. And in your despair, you searched for him.

The dreams began when loneliness had taken hold of your heart, a gaping emptiness that refused to be filled.

In your dreams, he came to you.

A man with a haunting face and eyes as deep and dark as the shadows.

A man so haunting yet so beautiful.

He spoke in whispers, promising love, devotion, and a bond that would transcend everything.

“You will be mine,” he murmured one night, his voice smooth as velvet. “When you are ready, call to me, and I will come for you, My Beloved.”

But you couldn’t wait.

His promises stayed with you for the entirety of the day.

There was a pain in your heart, longing, which didn't disappear as the day went on.

You weren’t ready to wait, not when you could feel his pull even in waking hours. If he could come to you in dreams, surely, you could find him in the world of the living.

Your search began with whispers and legends, stories of a figure who resided in the ruin of a castle deep in the forest.

Though fear should have gripped you, all you felt was excitement.

Every step, you were closer and closer to him. So many sleepless nights finally paid off.

When you finally stood before the manor, the crumbling stone and overgrown vines felt like a sign of another world.

You were completely out of breath as your heart raced.

You entered the castle, the only light coming from the flickering candles you had brought.

You followed your heart and soon you found exactly what you have been looking for, an beautifully decorated coffin, carved with symbols you didn’t recognize.

The sun was setting as you looked out the window.

It was almost time for him to wake.

If you believed the words of the villagers, he awoke with the last rays of sunlight before crawling out of his coffin into the darkness.

You knelt before the coffin, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation and joy.

“I couldn’t wait any longer. You called to me in my dreams, but I wanted to be the one to come to you. To show you, I want to be with you, My Nosferatu.”

The room fell silent, except for the faint crackle of the candles and the wind outside.

The coffin’s lid shifted with a creak, and you held your breath.

When it opened fully, he was there, just as you had seen him in your dreams. From the deep dark eyes, to his thin yet still strong frame, he was tall.

His eyes found yours.

For a moment, his expression was unreadable. You thought it to be surprise.

Then, slowly, his lips curved into a faint smile.

“You,” he said, his voice richer and more resonant than in your dreams. “You came to me.”

“I couldn’t stay away. I’ve been searching for you. I’m ready to finally be only yours.”

He rose from the coffin, his movements fluid and deliberate. Standing before you, he towered over you as he reached out, his long fingers brushing your cheek.

“You are not afraid?”

“No, I have no reason to fear you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

For a moment, you worried. He might not actually want you. Maybe it was a childish dream after all.

Then, Orlok knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You were always meant to be mine."

You made your vow as the new moon rose in the sky, and wolves howled in the grounds.

"I willingly vow myself to you. For as long as you will have me, even in my death." he stood before you as his fingers lifted your head.

"You are mine forever. Thy flesh, bones and soul belong to me," he whispered as you took a breath in, your lips opening slightly.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and possessive, a seal on the bond that would tie you to him forever.

You felt the pain of your loneliness fall away, replaced by a love that would never fade.

In his arms, you were no longer a dreamer longing for connection.

You were his, and he was yours, bound together by the eternal night.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[lipglossanon]

Until the End

Real son!Leon S. Kennedy x real mom!reader (one shot)

Warnings: incest, dead dove, mom/son, simp Leon, cnc (reader’s “not” into it at first 😉), kissing, dirty talk, teasing, oral (f receiving), just the tip 😩, unprotected sex, creampie, mommy kink to the extreme

not proofread ✍️ it’s been a while since I’ve worked on anything so hopefully this doesn’t suck lmao the ending is just kinda meh

shoutout to the discord; I posted some of this WIP and they gave me the inspo to finish 🤭

title from the Breaking Benjamin song

It’s a quiet affair when you sign the divorce papers. Your husband—of twenty four years—deciding that he’d rather live overseas with his secretary instead of sticking it out; it’s not something you would have foreseen, but as they say hindsight’s always 20/20. It upset you at first but once the indignation died down, you realize you feel more relief than anything. Things have been strained for years and then in the last five, he’s barely been home long enough to chat about your days. 

The one who took it the hardest out of anyone is Leon. Your husband offered him a place to stay, but he chose to live with you (being a mama’s boy through and through). After his father left, Leon angrily refused to speak with him anymore and instead focused on his work and trying to pick up any slack around the house. Not that you hadn’t already been doing that for years, but it’s sweet of him to want to take care of you. 

He dotes on you now, making sure you’re eating and drinking and taking care of yourself. His friends tease him about it or rib him about having a milf (which you had the unfortunate chance to overhear as you walked into the living room). Meeting Leon’s mortified gaze, you smile tightly and walk through to the kitchen. He kicks them out and apologizes profusely to you, face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he murmurs how sorry he is and promises it won’t happen again. 

Things go back to normal for a while. The absence of your husband is something you don’t even notice anymore. Leon is more than capable of moving out and living on his own, but he says it’s closer to work and easier to keep an eye on you if he lives at home. Besides, he told you with a serious face, he doesn’t have a girlfriend to make things awkward so for now you just need to chill out and let him take care of things. 

He gets a promotion at work, no longer relegated to being just a traffic cop, and you couldn’t be more proud! Your offer to take him out to a nice dinner gets turned down; in its place is an evening of take out and drinking. Since it’s the weekend, neither of you are worried about being hungover the next day, so you both end up drinking more than you usually would. 

Later, Leon walks with you from the dining room to the living room, each of you laughing at some silly joke that you can’t even remember. 

Settling together on the couch, he tucks into your side, face nuzzling against your neck like he used to do as a little boy. You giggle and run your hand through his hair. 

“You’re so sweet, Leon,” you murmur, “but aren’t you a little too old to be cuddling your mom?”

“Uh uh,” he whines, making you laugh harder, “always need you, mama.”

“Okay, okay,” you pat his head, slumping further into the couch, the alcohol buzzing through your veins, “my little boy’s all grown up.”

Feeling maudlin now at remembering that the passage of time waits for no one, you sniffle and it draws Leon’s attention.  

“What’s a’matter?” He mumbles, hazy blue eyes sharpening to see your tears, “mom?”

You smile and cup his cheek. Neither of you have shied away from physical affection; however, you remember on more than one occasion you thought Leon went overboard with cuddling and snuggling with you. Now that seems like a silly thought, he just missed you during his long hours on duty. 

“Nothing, just so proud of you,” you smile, dropping your hand to rub his shoulder. 

He kisses your cheek and you coo softly. Moving closer, he lands another soft kiss to the corner of your lips. Blaming it on the alcohol, a warm thrum of heat sings through your stomach. 

“Mama,” he whimpers, lips clumsily landing on yours. 

You freeze, body heavy and thoughts slow. Leon presses his mouth more firmly against yours and you gasp, lips parting under his and he eagerly kisses you harder. Whining, you try to tug your head away but he follows you, kisses becoming rougher while pressing you deeper against the couch. 

Your hands come up and tangle in his hair, but instead of pulling him back they scrape against his scalp, making him groan deliciously. He shifts, pulling away to tilt his head at a better angle before pressing another hot kiss against your lips. You sink into it, clit pulsing in arousal, mouth tingling from each sloppy kiss from your son.

Finally, you twist away, panting heavily while Leon rests his forehead against your jaw. 

“Mama, why’d you stop?” He presses a soft kiss under your ear, making you shiver.

“Leon, this—this isn’t right,” you plead, eyelashes fluttering as he nips and sucks your neck.

“Just this once,” he murmurs, lips dragging against your skin and sending chills down your body. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you, mommy.”

His words and actions are muddling your mind… and you’ve been lonely for so long. Swallowing, you breath out a shaky breath, mind made up.

“O-okay,” your body feels hot, muttering that out loud.

Moaning, he bites your jaw then kisses your cheek. “Thank you.”

He shows his appreciation by kissing the breath from your lungs; your son’s excitement ramps up your own, cunt pulsing with need as slick fills your panties. Wet, drugging kisses pass between you until you completely lose yourself to the feeling, making out with Leon until your lips are swollen. 

You jump, feeling his fingers trail along your thigh, slipping under your skirt and brushing against your panties.

“God, you’re so wet. Wanna bury my face in your pussy.”

You moan, and he teases your cunt through the soppy fabric.

“You can’t,” your hips grind down into his hand.

“Okay, promise I’ll behave,” he chuckles.

Without another word, he flips your skirt up and slips your panties down your legs to bunch at your ankles.

“Oh mommy,” he moans, fingers tracing your slit up and down before circling your clit, “your pussy’s so soft. Fuck me.”

Your hips buck and he bites his bottom lip, fingers rubbing up and down your pussy lips. 

“So, so soft,” he whispers, eyes glued to where his fingers are touching, “my stubble’s gonna feel so rough when I kiss her, mama.”

You whine high and reedy but shake your head, “No, no, this is all I’m allowing, Leon. You promised.”

“Just a kiss or two,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “she needs it, look how soft and sweet she is, just begging for my mouth. C’mon, mama, just let me have a couple of kisses.”

Your resolve cracks at his pleading. 

“Just a couple, then we stop,” you try to sound firm but your voice comes out breathier than you’d like. 

“Mmhmm, thank you, mama,” he kisses the side of your cheek then the corner of your lips.

You feel a little disappointed that he stops to kneel between your legs. He brings his hands up to spread apart your cunt, slick dripping from your hole as his mouth hovers over your mound. 

“Oh fuck, mom,” Leon whines, tongue lapping at your clit, “so fucking wet. Am I making you this wet? God, your pussy’s so fucking sexy.”

Another groan and he’s fluttering his tongue across your pudgy bud before sucking it gently into his mouth. He pulls back and kisses the hood of your clit. You moan softly and cant your hips up. 

“W-we shouldn’t, baby,” you plead, fingers tangling in his hair again, but not pushing him away. 

“Been wanting to do this forever, dreaming about how I wanna lick your pretty pussy til you cream all over my face,” he pants, dilated eyes watching your face, “gonna make you cum over and over tonight.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy, walls clamping around the slippery muscle, “Leon! 

He hums and grinds his nose against your clit as his tongue fucks in and out of your hole, spit dripping down your ass onto the couch cushions. Your eyes flutter as your orgasm winds tight in your abdomen. 

“Need to eat you out everyday, mama,” he pulls back, slick shining across his lips and chin, “treat this pussy like she deserves. Don’t you wanna feel good?”

He sucks your clit back into his mouth, hot tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. It only takes a few more teasing licks before your climax breaks over your body like a tidal wave. Toes curling, your hands tug on his hair making him moan, tonguing at your fluttering cunt until he finally pulls away with one last sucking kiss. 

He crowds you on the couch, thick forearms hooking under your knees to keep you spread open. He nods down to his jeans; your eyes flit from his face to the bulge pressing obscenely against his zipper. 

“Pull it out,” he murmurs, blue eyes nearly black. “Take my cock out so I can stuff your cunt, mommy.”

Shaking your head, your voice cracks, “No, baby. That’s going too far.”

He whines, “But it hurts, mama. You’re being so mean. At least jerk me off.”

Biting your lip, his pouty mouth has you reaching forward, undoing his pants and tugging them down his thighs. You gently ease his dick from his briefs, uncut head sticky with precum. You both moan when you grip his stiff cock, the blood hot skin against your palm turning you on more than you ever thought. Thumb pressing against the slit, you smear the pearlescent sheen across his tip until he’s whimpering. 

“Mommy,” his hips thrust forward, “it’s sensitive.” 

He sags forward, and your legs slide up his arms until your calves press against his biceps. This new position has his dick grinding against your swollen cunt, the head grazing across your pudgy clit. Your fingers loosely circle the base of his cock, the backs of your knuckles brushing against his balls. 

“So good, fuck,” he chokes out, humping your pussy. “Just let me cum like this, let me mark you up, mama. Yeah, just coat this sexy fucking pussy with my cum.”

Keening, you let go of his cock to feather your fingers against his heavy balls. “You can, you can cum all over me.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, pink lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as he watches his cock slip between your pussy lips to rub against your hole. “Mommy, just let me put the tip in, please? Promise it’ll just be the tip. Please.”

You know you should say no, but then again you should’ve put a stop to this before it even started. Just the tip wouldn’t be so bad, you think, eyes greedily taking in his fat, drippy tip. It wouldn’t hurt to let him try it out.

“Just the tip, Leon,” you murmur, flicking up to meet his blown out gaze. “But only this once.”

“Thank you,” he groans, “love you so much, mama.”

Moving one hand from his hold on your leg, he grips his cock and guides the head to your clenching hole. His thumb presses down on the head as he rocks forward, slipping the tip into your wet cunt. You suck in a deep breath at the same time he grunts. The other hand gripping your thigh tightens, fingertips tightly digging into the soft skin. 

Leon blows out a breath, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “You feel so good.”

He ruts the head of his cock in and out of your pussy, the wet schlick loud in the otherwise quiet living room. Your hands move over your head to drape over the back of the couch, fingers grasping at the cushions. 

“Can I—,” he cuts himself off, eyes squeezing shut. “Can I go a little deeper, mommy?”

Your slick hole clenches down on him and he whimpers. 

“H-how much deeper?” You hear yourself say, mouth running away from you. 

“Just an inch or two,” he gasps, feeling overwhelmed by the heat of your cunt. “Pretty please, mommy.”

You nod, eyes unable to look away from where he’s splitting you open, dick driving deeper and deeper—going so much farther than a few inches—into your pussy until he’s completely buried in your pulsing walls. 

“Leon!” You cry out, head falling back as your cunt stretches around the fat girth of his cock.

“Sorry, mama,” he practically slurs, pussy drunk already. “Didn’t mean to, it just slipped.”

You whimper at the pleasure pain of his tip kissing your cervix as he grinds himself against your cunt. Clit rubbing against his pelvis makes you squeeze and clench around his dick, in turn making him groan from deep in his chest. He barely pulls out before fucking back into your sopping wet hole. 

“So perfect,” his face pinches in pleasure. “God, mom, your pussy—gonna make me cum so fast.”

You dig your hands into the couch and roll your hips down into his thrusts, “You need to pull out, baby. It’s bad to cum inside. You’ve gotta pull out of mommy’s cunt.”

He makes a broken sound from the back of his throat and drives his cock into you with harsh, pounding thrusts. 

“No, I’m gonna cum in you, make you nice and full,” he bites out, sweat dripping from the straight line of his nose onto you. “Stuff you so full, mama.”

You can’t hide how his words make your pussy clamp down on his cock, his own hips stuttering as your cunt tries to milk his cock. 

“Yeah, mommy, squeezing me so good, so fucking good,” he pants. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

He reaches down, hot palm a brand across your mound as his thumb teases your clit. You thrash against him, but it’s no use as he strums your swollen bud in rough little circles that makes your thighs tremble. 

“Leon,” you moan, a second orgasm quickly building in your core. “Oh god, I’m so close.”

He doesn’t stop the frantic pumping of his hips, fucking his cock into your squelching heat while he rubs your clit—his blue eyes jumping between your face and your pussy. Mouth dropping open, he groans, mumbling praises and promises under his breath. Pinching your clit between the knuckles of his first and middle finger, he gives pulsing squeezes to the sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re cumming loudly. 

Your back bows, fireworks going off in your brain, dimly realizing that Leon’s gripping your hips as he wildly fucks your cunt. 

“Fuck, fuck, mom,” he chokes on the word, burying himself balls deep in your soft, wet walls and spilling his thick cum as deep as possible. 

You whimper, squeezing down on him as the hot splash of his spend fills your cunt. He eventually stills, hips still snugly pressed against you as close as possible. Slick and jizz begin to slowly leak out from around his softening cock. He hisses when he pulls out, then immediately whimpers, fingers playing with his cum dripping from your hole.

“Leon, stop, it’s sensitive,” you gasp, eyes slipping closed when his fingers slide up to rub across your fat clit. 

“Sorry, mama,” he pulls back only to drop to his knees, eyes dark, mouth hovering tantalizingly close to your sloppy cunt. “Let me kiss it better.”