#we can have multiple rounds of appreciating fluff

[the-chattering-tower]

You are Not getting a cop-out option. They're friends, they're not fighting, but I must hear the word of the people

[fanon-elio]

By your side.

Part 5

Summary: You are the CEO of a big company and hired Lycaon as your personal attendant, however it seems that your wolfish butler has developed a crush on you. So while you and him were on a business trip, both of you were forced to confront your growing feelings for eachother.

Tag: Red Letter (Nsfw)

Minors DNI

Pairing: Von Lycaon x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is completely fictional and is not canon. You are responsible for the content you consume, so if the following warnings trigger you, you may read at your own risk.

Warnings: Smut, oral (giving+receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, unprotected sex, pinning, biting(like a lot), a bit possesiveness, mating press, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, reader and lycaon are dirty minded, lycaon is a service top, mentions of blood, shower sex, some small fluff.

(Please inform me if I have forgotten any)

Other warnings: lowkey my first fanfiction, so bare with me here. (T^T)

This part is once again a bit longer than the others.

This fic contains a lot of scenarios written in Lycaons pov cuz i eat this shit up for breakfast

I apologize for any mistakes you may find. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. Honestly i really gotta do some self-reflecting after this part. The fact that my mind was actually able to come up with something so grafic shocks me a bit.

Once again, this part contains explicit sexual themes. Minors DNI!!

Enjoy!

"Master, please allow me to make love to you" Lycaon was suprised by his own confidence.

He hoped he hadn't misjudged the situation. The seconds of silence between you two felt like hours, but he kept eye contact with you. Finally you spoke, barely above a whisper "please do" and he let out a sigh of relieve as he dove straight back to kissing you, unzipping your dress as he did so.

He felt immense satisfaction course through his veins like hot lava when he drank in the sight of you as his clawed fingers found the clasp of your bra. You put a hand on his shoulder, gently halting his actions, he looked concerned for a second, wondering if he had overstepped a line already "Is something the matter? We can stop if y-" he started but you interrupted him "no I want to continue it's just" you reached for his cheek again and he leaned into your touch "I just want to make sure this is what you want too, I don't wan't to preassure you into anything, to make you feel like you owe it to me" he chuckled as he gently grabbed your hand, slowly guiding it from his cheek down to his exposed chest.

His fur was as soft as silk as your fingers ran over his pecks, down to his abs, and stopped at his clothed crotch. You blushed as you felt his straining errection through his pants "I hope this is enough of an answer" he replied playfully, groaning as you gave his bulge a little squeeze.

He stood up suddenly, leaving you confused for a second, but when he pulled you to the edge of the sofa and got on his knees, his intentions became very clear to you. He hooked his fingers under the straps of your panties as he once again found your gaze, silently asking for permission to continue - to cross that line.

You nodded, and he pulled your panties off, gently spreading your legs. His mouth began to water when he looked at your pussy, his tail thumping against the ground to visualize his growing excitement as he licked your inner thigh. Slowly getting closer to where you needed him. You yelped a bit when he moved your legs up to your chest, gently holding them in place. Your eyes remained fixxed on him, shivering a bit when you felt his breath against your exposed sex.

He started slow, planting a tender kiss against your clit before licking a long stripe up your folds, immediately making you see stars, his groans of satisfaction turning you on even more. He circled your clit with his tongue before spredding your glistening folds, pushing his tongue inside. You let out a loud moan and it made his cock even harder as he ate you out like a beast starved, feeling the way your walls moved around his tongue. You tried to move your legs, wanting to wrap them around his face, but to no avail. There was no fighting his iron grip, all you could do was watch him as he tongue fucked you, sometimes pulling out to suck on your clit. He felt you twitch with every movement of his tongue inside your pussy, completely lost in the act of pleassuring you "Lycaon wait I'm close" you said but it didn't fully register to him. He pushed your legs down harder, practically immobilizing you as he picked up his pace.

He wanted you to cum, he wanted you to cum all over his tongue, he wanted to make you scream from pleassure. And so you did, as your orgasm hit you full force. You burried your fingers in Lycaon's hair, pulling him even closer to your pussy as he obidiently swallowed everything you gave him. You shook as he continued to lick your puffy folds, seemingly to pussy drunk to think straight "Lycaon wait" you almost sobbed, but he didn't seem to hear you, continuing to suck on your overstimulated clit. "its too much" you said, gently pulling on his hair to get his attention. Finally he seemed to return to reality, ceasing the assault on your poor cunt. "Apologies, it seems i got carried away" he responded and you pulled him up by his collar so he was ontop of you, crashing your lips against his and tasting the remnants of your climax on his tongue. "OK, your turn" you responded, motioning him to get up and sit down.

He felt nervousness bubble up again as you positioned yourself between his spread legs. His tail continued to thump excitedly against the sofa as you unbuckled his belt. "May I?" You ask and he swallowed "you may" he responded, giving you the permission you needed. You pulled his pants down, freeing his cock from its confines as it slapped against his lower abdomen. Your eyes widened as you took in his sheer size "please, don't force yourself to take it, i don't want you to hurt yourself" he replied, feeling a strange sense of pride as he watched you marvel at his cock. "Can I still try?" You asked him so innocently, carefully wrapping a hand around his shaft, and who was he to deny you what was yours "its all yours" he replied, gently caressing your head, hissing when your tongue made contact with the head of his cock. His gaze never left your form, carefully watching all of your movements as you tongue ran over his weeping tip. He let out a moan when you put it fully in your mouth, and that gave you the confidence boost you needed. Slowly you swallowed his full member, trying not to gag as he moved down your throat. Lycaon was in awe as he watched you, you actually managed to take him completely, his cock twitched in response to his suprise, and he thinks he has fallen even harder in love with you. Slowly you bopped you head, circling your tongue around his member "are you alright he asked?" Through heavy breathing "I'm ok don't worry" you replied and he gritted his teeth when you began pumping his cock with your hand. You knew he was close, and you were ready to get payback for earlier.

You picked up your pace, fondling his balls with one hand, while the other continued to stroke him as you sucked on the head of his cock. His moans got louder, and you could hear his claws tearing through the material of the sofa "wait master I'm- " he started, and you used the oppertunity to take the reigns "cum" you comanded and he threw his head back, obeying immediately. Thick ropes of cum shot out of his cock while you mercilessly continued to jerk him off, his moans only adding fuel to your fire. Slowly he came down from his orgasm, twitching a bit when you gave his cock an experimental squeeze, noting how hard he still was.

It seems your Wolf was not yet done for the night, the thought of which excited you.

He looked at you "how do you feel?" You asked him "amazing" he responded, still trying to catch his breath. You once again stradeled his lap, gently grinding on his still overstimulated cock. You yelped in suprise when he picked you up, carrying you bridal style to his bedroom. He carefully layed you down on the soft sheets before he got on top of you again. He looked at you with a pleading expression, and you raised an eyebrow. You knew exactly what he wanted, but you wanted to hear it out of his mouth "what do you need, tell me" you said, and he leaned foreward, whispering into your ear "please let me fuck you" you gripped the sheets as he gently nibbled on your ear. You summoned all the courage you could muster "go on then" you said, moving your head to the side to give him full access to your shoulder and neck. He looked at you for a moment, as if questioning if you ment what he was thinking. You gently carassed his jaw, cautiously sticking your thumb into his maw, tracing his bottom fangs as you confirmed his thoughts "make me yours."

It was as if a switch was turned in Lycaon's head as he once again pinned you down, licking over the tender flesh of your neck.

Words can't describe how badly he wanted this.

He carefully opened his mouth, and you shuddered when you felt his canines ghost over your skin, an apology left his lip before he dug them into your shoulder. You yelped as you felt him suck on your skin, the small sting of pain making you even more drenched than before. He licked over your fresh bite mark, the taste of iron strong on his tongue as he gently carassed your thigh as another small apology for biting you so hard. Even though he secretly hoped it would leave a permanent mark.

You got on your hands an knees as he carefully brought his cock to your pussy, his tip nudging at your entrance. Your hands twisted into the sheets in anticipation, something he seemed to notice "tell me if it hurts and I will stop immediately" he said and you nodded. Your mouth fell open as you felt him slowly penetrating you, inch by inch "half way in already, almost there" he spoke through gritted teeth, your pussy having his cock in a strangle hold already.

Finally he bottomed out inside you, hitting that spot that turned your vision to static. You felt so deliciously full, and were embarassed by how close you once again were, even though he just put it in. Lycaon, ever so attentive, seemed to realize without you having to voice it, keeping still to give you time to adjust to him. He felt like he was in heaven, your pussy felt so warm and soft around his throbbing member.

He wanted to make you cum on his cock, to pleasure you even better than earlier, better than how you've ever been pleasured before. He wanted to fuck you so good that you'd never desire anyone else but him.

You wiggled your hips, giving him the sign to start moving. Slowly he pulled out almost all the way before pushing back in, your eyes started to water at the corners. You couldn't believe your luck that this was actually happening, and neither could he.

Lycaon gently carassed your back as he picked up his pace a little. He reached one of his hands down, taking one of your breasts in his hand. He was messmerized by how soft it was as he started to play with your nipple. His hand continued to trail down your body, finding your clit as he rupped gentle circles against it. He stopped for a moment, carefully repositioning himself, as he pressed his chest to your back. He sucked on your other shoulder, finally giving you all the hickeys he wanted to give you for so long. He wanted to litter your body with hickeys, you'd look so pretty covered in them from head to toe.

He felt you clench around him, it seems you were getting close again. He picked up his pace again, the squelching sounds of your cunt filling the room, fully capturing his attention. Your grip on the sheets tightened "faster please, it feels so good" you called out to him, and he wouldn't make you ask twice "as you wish master." He laced his fingers with yours as he started plowing into you at a volatile pace, your voice filling the room as you screamed his name. He already loved the way it sounded on your tongue, but hearing you scream it drove him almost mad. "Your cock feels amazing oh my god!" You praised, and he felt your pussy squeeze his dick harder, you were about to cum. "Please bite me again" you pleaded brokenly, tilting your head to expose you other shoulder, and he obliged, plunging his teeth into your tender skin. His tail wagged violently as he thrived on you allowing him to freely mark you like this, mark you so everyone knew you belonged with him.

You brokenly cried out his name as you came again, soiling the bedsheets beneath you, and he halted his movement, moaning at how tightly your cunt was holding onto him as he gently rubbed your clit through your orgasm. Lapping on your shoulder, he waited for you to come down from your high before gently speaking up "are you ok? Do you need a break?" He asked you, carefully running his hands up and down your thigh "please don't stop, you haven't cum yet" you told him, you looked over your shoulder and met his gaze "fuck me more please" you asked him, and he smiled at you, pressing a loving kiss to your neck "anything for you master."

He pulled out of you and you wanted to object, but your words got stuck in your throat as he turned you on your back, and put you into a mating press before quickly entering you again "please scream my name some more" he asked politely before continuing his volatile pace. His cock was so deep inside you, you could feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix with every punishing yet delicious thrust. It almost made you go insane, it didn't take long until you came again. You screamed out his name again as you came on his cock, your release squirting out, and drenching him. You could hear his balls slapping your ass while he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, and the impossible tightness of your cunt, sloppily kissing you to swallow all of your noises. He broke the kiss, and licked the tears off your face, thinking how pretty you were even when you were completely fucked out.

Lycaon couldn't tolerate a mess, but he started to love making a mess out of you.

He buried his face in your neck again, feeling himself slowly getting closer to his own climax. He felt his balls tighten as he started to moan louder, notifying you that he was going to finish soon "please let me cum in you y/n" he pleaded, and you let out an especially loud moan after you heared him call you by your name "let me breed your pussy please" he pleaded again, burying his head in your neck, desperate to fill you to the brim with his seed. You crossed your legs behind his back just above the base of his tail, catching his attention before you whispered in his ear "breed me Lycaon" which completely send him over the edge. After a few final strong thrusts, he pressed his cock as deep inside you as he could, drowning your womb with his cum, as your Name kept falling from his lips like a sinful chant. You felt the warmth of his seed as he throbbed and pulsed inside you. Your gaze landed on the Wolf thiren above you, mesmerized by his expression, by his half lidded eye, and his parted lips as he tried to catch his breath, revealing his pearl white fangs in a silent snarl. Clearly he enjoyed himself just as much if not even more than you did.

Lycaon himself was almost drooling from the sensation as he continued to pump his cum into your fluttering pussy. This was by far the most intense orgasm he has ever had in his entire life, nothing could ever compare to it. Especially not his hand when he would stroke himself to the thought of you underneath him like you were right now. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he came down from his high. You could feel his cock still throbbing inside your cunt, realizing that he was still painfully hard despite having cum twice already. He grabbed your hips before gently sitting both of you up, you brokenly moaned as his cock sank deeper inside you. You took in his disheveled appearence, it instantly reminded you of that night as you voiced out what you've been thinking the entire time "you're beautiful", your voice barely above a whisper. Lycaon let out a small whine as he started to slowly thrust up into you, kissing you apologetically as he tried to muffle your screams from being overstimulated. "I'm sorry, just one more load I promise" he told you, his cock squelching through the load he had already filled you with. He took one of your nipples in his fanged mouth, his canines gently tracing against the sensitive bud as he sucked on it "I'm close" you told him and he kissed you again. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, a mess of teeth and tongues as you both chased your final releases for the night. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stronger than any other orgasm you had earlier, and you stopped thinking. Your head couldn't form a single coherent thought, and in the heat of the moment you opened your mouth, biting Lycaon's shoulder as hard as you could. It caught him off guard, and he grabbed your ass as he mercilessly impaled you on his length, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind as he repeated the same sentence over, and over "I love you y/n". Finally he let out a loud moan filling you once again to the brim with his release as you clamped down on his cock, milking him for all he's worth. But it was too much, and his cum slowly dripped out of your pussy as it ran down his pulsing shaft. Both of you breathed heavily as he looked at his shoulder, small red spots forming from your bite mark, and that was the moment he knew he had to marry you, no questions asked.

He gently layed your exhausted body down into the unsoiled sheets, wanting to get up in order to clean you both up, but you stopped him "stay" he turned his attention to you "we can clean up tomorrow" you said, your voice heavy with sleep, and exhaustion. He smiled lovingly, carefully lying down next to you as he pulled you into his soft embrace, his length however remained buried in you. He kissed your head, thanking you for letting him share this experience with you as the sensation of his soft fur slowly lulled you to sleep.

---~---

Sunlight found its way through the parted curtains. Slowly your eyes cracked open, still heavy with sleep as your eyes fell on Lycaon, the Wolf thiren himself was still fast asleep. You reached a hand up, first caressing his cheek, and then slowly moving up to his ears, gently petting them, and gushing over how incredibly soft they were. You moved your hand to scratch behind his ear, and he let out a satisfied little grumble as his hold on you tightened ever so slightly. You heared his tail thumping against the mattress as you intently listened to the little sounds he made, only to be interupted by a familiar stretch as you felt his cock harden again. You stopped for a moment unsure of what to do now. You didn't want to wake him, he deserved his rest after how well he had fucked your brains out last night. Your hand ran down his chest again, gently groping his peck as you moved lower, letting your hands run over his defined abs. You bit your lip, slowly moving your hips while your hand continued to roam his body. You looked at his expression, noting how he furrowed his brow to the sensation of you fucking yourself on his morning wood. He moaned quietly as you tried to take him even deeper, moving your hand around to first run down his back, and then mischeviously grabbed a handfull of his ass.

You eyes fell on his eyepatch, and his muzzle, as you realized that he hadn't taken them off before he fell asleep. You couldn't help your curiousity from invading your mind, wanting to once again see him without them. Only this time you wanted to look at him properly. You pondered if you should ask him about it once he woke up, not realizing that the moment you thought about was just upon you. You halted your hip's movement when you felt his hand grab your thigh, gently kneading it "I wish you a good morning as well" he spoke, his voice low and filled with sleep. "M-morning" you said, feeling a tad bit embarassed that he had caught you red handed like this, even though you've been playing a risky game from the start, knowing that the sensation of your velvet walls could always break his slumber. "Sorry" you apologized, and he huffed feeling like teasing you a bit "what are you apologizing for master?" He asked, kissing you on the crown of your head. "You know... for..." you said, hoping he would understand what you ment without you having to voice it. But he deleberately played dumb, something you noticed "I'm sorry it seems I don't quite follow" he said, and you shot him a little glare "I'm sorry for... grinding myself on you" your face now almost the same shade of red as his eye. Truth is, he had been awake for much longer than you, silently admiring you. As he felt you fucking yourself on his dick, he had no intention of stopping you, why would he? You were just so precious.

He lifted your head with his fingers, kissing you deeply. You moaned as your tongue moved against his, wanting to continue grinding against him, but his firm grip stopped you. You hoped that he'd once again fuck you stupid like last night, the fire in your stomach igniting, and setting your nerves ablaze. But Lycaon had other plans, as he broke the kiss, and slowly unseathed himself, you moaned at the sudden feeling of emptiness. You made him aware of your discontent, wanting to keep going but he just smiled, and pressed another kiss to your head before he got out of bed.

He was teasing you, you knew it. Sure, you were suprised that he had it in him, but you also knew that this was a game both of you could play. He scratched the back of his neck as he made his way towards the bathroom, he turned his head wanting to give you another glance. Instead, stopping dead in his tracks as his eye fell between your thighs again. He watched as his cum began to slowly leak from your core, and he could feel a tinge of discontent shoot through his brain, a feeling he could neither describe nor pinpoint. Its supposed to stay inside, he thought as he watched you reach down to your pussy, scooping up his release on your fingers, and pushing them back inside your heat. His mouth watered again as he watched you finger yourself, while you watched his hand gently stroking his once again erect cock. Suddenly you stopped, and he fought with himself not to pummel you, but instead he cleared his throat, realizing that he had totally fallen for your trick. "We should get cleaned up" you said, closing your legs and breaking his trance "right" he responded shortly, making his way over to you "one moment I'll help you" he picked you up gently, carrying you to the adjacent bathroom.

He put you down on your wobbly legs, as you held onto the sink in order not to fall over. Unfortunately neither his nor your bathroom had a bathtub, both having admittedly very spacious showers instead. He turned the shower on, holding his hand under the water to set it to the right temperature, hoping that it wasn't to hot for you. Against popular beliefe, Lycaon very much enjoyed hot showers and baths in contrast to the Ice he operated with in combat. You watched him as he got on one knee, reaching out one of his hands for you to take, patting his left thigh with the other as a silent invitation for you to sit on it. The warm water, and Lycaon's hands felt good as he gently massaged your sore body "last night was beyond amazing" you spoke, leaning your head against his shoulder "I'm very glad you enjoyed it" he replied, and you could hear the smile on his face.

You once again noticed that, dispite being in the shower, he was still wearing his eyepatch and muzzle. "Can I ask you something" you started, running your hands up and down his soaked back "of course, anything" he replied, rubbing your bodywash on your back. "Can you take your those off?" You asked, running a finger over the leather of his muzzle. He halted his movement for a moment, and your heart hammered against your rip cage. "Of course you don't have to if you don't want to, I didn't mean to pry" you rambled, thinking that your curiousity had offended him. Lycaon however thought that it was now well enough time that he would show you, to place the same trust in you that you placed in him. He put a finger to your lips, gently shushing you before he sat you down in front of him. His fingers moved to undo the clasps of his eyepatch - to remove the last wall he had build up.

He put both to the side, now being fully exposed to you, not just physically, but also emotionally. "Just be warned that it is rather... unpleasant to look at" he said. You gently took his hand in yours as you looked at him "May I?" You asked, and he nodded, understanding what you ment "please do" he replied as you moved your hand towards his face, gently brushing his hair to the side to take a proper look at him.

His left eye was rendered shut indefinetly as it was covered by a giant scar, another smaller cross shaped scar having its place on his right, atop his muzzle. He studied your expression, trying to discipher it, as your fingers traced over his scars. Normally he would have recoiled, not even he himself touched it often, the memory of its creation still too painful for him to fully confront. But your touch felt... nice, very nice. His voice broke the silence as it bounced of the shower walls "I want to tell you about me" he started "I love you, and you deserve to know..." he carassed your cheek "...to know who I was." You stayed silent while you listened to him, rubbing soothing circles on his hand as he spoke. He told you about his criminal past as a thief for Mockingbird, his then partner, the betrayal, and about how he chose to leave this life behind to change for the better. His gaze wandered down to his legs, and he swallowed thickly. It has been a long while since he had last talked with someone about this part of him. "I- uh... in regards to my legs" he stammered, his discomfort about the topic clearly written across his face. You reached out to him, giving him a peck on his nose, the sudden act of affection making him halt his explination "I'm so proud of you" you said, caressing over the small scar on his muzzle "and I'm grateful for the trust you place in me, I swear I'll honor it" you place a hand on his mechanical knee, the water had made it warm to the touch compared to the metallic coldness it normally displayed "if you're not ready to talk about it yet, that's absolutely alright" his ears dropped a little in dissapointment, less towards you and more towards himself "I'm sorry" he said quietly but you just caringly shook your head "there is no need, I feel very happy that you told me about yourself" you replied, and leaned in close, letting your lips ghost over his "I love you too Lycaon" your lips connected with his, a kiss so gentle and so full of love Lycaon feels all his worries melt away in the warmth of the moment, and your affection. He deepened the kiss his tongue finding its way once again into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, a sound that he loved so much "you're eager" you said after breaking the kiss to catch your breath "is it alright if we continue where we last left of?" He asked, kneading your inner thigh with his hand. His cock once again stood at full attention, ready and eager to please you, just like him. You gently took his length in your hand, running your thumb over his, already precum leaking tip "i'd love to" you said giving it a few pumps "If you let me suck you off again" you told him, a mischievous smirk on your face, an expression he actually mirrors "if you let me eat you out again" he replies.

a few minutes later, Lycaon stood in the shower, leaning himself with his arm against the shower wall, shielding you from the downpour as you sucked on his cock. His free hand gently combed through your hair as your tongue ran over the head of his cock. He couldn't help but think of how you had sucked him off yesterday, the image of you taking his cock balls deep was still fresh, and remained so unbelievable hot to him. Would you do that again if he asked you? "Master wait a second" he placed a hand on the top of your head, gaining your attention "what's wrong?" You asked, and his hand returned to comb through your hair "everything is alright, I would just... like to try something if you're alright with that" you perked up at his proposal "absolutely! What did you have in mind" you asked him, teasingly slapping his dick against your cheek, enjoying his reaction as he watched you "can you do it like yesterday?" He asked, and you understood. Of course his reaction to you deepthroating him yesterday hadn't been lost on you, and you smiled up at him "of course" you said, rubing his stomach. Without further ado you took him back in your mouth, enjoying his moaning as you once again shoved his impressive length down your throat. You let out a little noise of surprise as he slowly started to move his hips back, and forth "I'm sorry, is this ok?" He asked, you giving him a playfull thumbs up as he gently facefucked you. He ever so slightly picked up his pace, and you knew he was gonna cum soon "I'm going to cum soon master" he warned you, originally wanting to pull out before he climaxed, but before he could you reached around him, grabbing the base of his tail. A little yelp escaped him as he looked down at you, understanding the look on your face instantly. He nodded in a little silent "ok" before he started moving again, his breathing becoming more rugged with every thrust "I'm coming" he said, flooding your mouth. He looked at you as you swallowed his load, completely starstruck and in awe.

You were beyond perfect.

He gently removed his still twitching member from your mouth, leaning down to capture you in a sloppy kiss. Tasting his release on your tongue just like you had done yesterday, and it drove him feral. "Your turn" He said, breaking the kiss, and made you stand up "wait, my legs are still weak" you said but he told you not to worry before he leaned you against the wall, putting your legs on either side of his head before diving between them without warning. He wasted no time lapping on your folds, and sucking on your clit, your moans only seeming to encourage him more. You were close, and grabbed a fistfull of his hair, grinding against him as you came closer, and closer to the edge. But before you could finish, he pulled away, giving your inner thigh a little bite. You looked down, making eyecontact with him. Originally you wanted to ask him why he stoped, but he spoke before you "please look at me when you cum" he said, licking your inner thigh. You nodded in agreement, and he dove back between your legs, continuing his assault. Finally you toppled over the edge as you came, once again grabbing a fistfull of his wet hair, grinding yourself against his face. You moaned loudly as you watched him swallow your release without breaking eyecontact. You let go of his hair, gently smoothing it down as a silent apology. He placed a small kiss against your clit, and you shuddered "May I continue please?" He asked you while he carassed your thighs "yes you may, but not in this position" you breathed out, and he obliged. Carefully laying you down in the shower. He gently took hold of your hips, elevating them to bring your pussy closer to his mouth before he started to once again pleasure you with it. In this lewd position you could see even more clearly what he did to you, as you watched him tonguefuck you again. Dispite all that, he kept eyecontact with you, gobbeling up all the expressions that your face made as he worked your body. You didn't last long "I-I'm gonna cum again!" You said, reaching for his hand to hold onto. He laced his fingers with yours as another orgasm hit you, some of your release dripping onto your chest. Lycaon carefully lowered your hips before getting on top of you. Your eyes remained fixed on him while he licked up the remnants of your cum from your titts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth to suck on it. He ran his tongue over your left nipple before he released it with a popp, and switched his attention to the other "do you wish to continue?" He asked, pumping his cock which you noticed "yes I do" you replied. He gave you a quick kiss before sitting back, making you straddle his lap, his cock twitching against your cunt "this way you can direct the pace" he told you. You grabbed behind you, taking his cock in your hand before guiding it to your entrance. Slowly you lowered yourself on him, his own eyes entranced by how your pussy swallowed his member "just a little bit more, you got this" he told you before your hips met his. His dick now fully sheathed inside you again.

You carefully started bouncing on his cock, holding onto his shoulders for support as you moaned in unison. You threw your head back in pleasure, and he found his attention once again drifting to your beautiful breasts. The way they bounced up and down seeming to hypnotize him, as he leaned foreward to once again suck on your left nipple, kneading the other one with his hand. Your pace slowly stagnated, and he looked up at you "do you need a break master?" He asked concerned, watching your chest rise and fall with every breath you took. You leaned foreward, brushing his hair to the side again before placing a gentle kiss on his scar "I ment what I said last night" you spoke through deep breaths "you're beautiful" you carassed his cheek, and he leaned into your touch. You then leaned foreward to whisper into his ear "so please, ravage me again like you did last night."

You yelped in surprise as Lycaon grabbed your ass before abruptly standing up, with you still impaled on his cock. He pressed you with your back against the shower wall, kissing your forehead before he spoke "your wish is my command" with that he fucked into you at a brutal, and demanding pace, the small drops of water that came out of the shower head bounced right off his back. "You make me feel so good, so happy" he babbled, already completely pussydrunk as he ground his cock against your cervix, wanting to make you scream his name again. And that you did, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, as if he would vanish if you let go. You burried your face in his neck, telling him over, and over how much you loved him, his tail wagging in pure ecstasy at your declaration. "I-I'm close, I'm close again!" You cried out to him "I'm close as well" he whsipered in your ear "do you want me to pull out?" He asked, licking over your neck, feeling how quick your pulse was "no, please don't pull out!" You said, his moaning getting louder at your pleading "please cum inside me again!" he picked up his pace even more, hammering his cock into you.

If you wanted him to fill you pretty pussy with his seed again, who was he to deny his perfect mate her wish.

He was ripped out of his thoughts by a familiar sensation on his shoulder, noticing you biting him again. His heart swelled at the act of you marking him - making him yours.

And this time he followed your lead, as he leaned in, and bit your shoulder again, his fangs punching right through your tender skin. The overwhelming satisfaction shooting like electric currents through his veins, as he fully indulged in his instincts. The little voice in his head repeating the same word over, and over.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

The sting of pain sending you over the edge, clawing you hands in the fur at the back of his neck as you clamped down on his dick. Lycaon moaned loudly, still needing a little push for his own climax. He felt his balls tighten again as he fucked you through your orgasm, finally arriving at his own. After one last final thrust, he fully burried his cock in you, filling your womb with pulse after pulse of warm cum. He felt a tad bit light headed as he kept filling you with so much cum, it oveflowed from your poor abused cunt and splashed against the tiles of the shower.

Both of you remained in this position for a while, breathing heavily while you slowly recovered from the intense orgasms that had ravaged your bodies. You held eachother close, as Lycaon ran his tongue over your bite mark, licking up the small pearls of red forming on it "I can't feel my legs" you chuckled, and he followed short. He slowly pulled out, sitting you down on the warm tiles of the shower before kneeling in front of you "I'm sorry, it seems I've bitten you to hard" he carefully ran his wet fingers over your wounded shoulder, still silently marveling at how it looked on you. You leaned your head against Lycaon's chest while he carefully cleaned you, apologetically kissing your bite mark. "Are you alright?" He asked you, his hand running up and down your back. More so to soothe his own concern. "It's quite alright" you respond, being cut off by the grumbling of your stomach "just very hungry" he chuckled again "I will prepare breakfast as soon as we're cleaned up."

After getting both of you, and the shower cleaned up, he turned off the water. He opened a window to rid the bathroom of the steam the hot shower had filled it with, wondering how much time had passed while you two had indulged in eachother. Looking around he noticed the small droplets of water clinging to the walls, the mirror, and the furniture. A small drop of water fell on his nose, sighing as he noticed the condensed water dripping from the ceiling lamp. He definetly had some cleaning to do before both of you departed tomorrow.

His eye fell on your tired form in his arms, and he smiled.

But that had time, right now he wanted to make sure you were alright. After drying both of you off he placed you back on the bed, scavenging the room for his boxers while you had once again drifted off to sleep. Lycaon made his way towards the living room to pick up his pants he had abandoned there yesterday, his eye falling on the stains on the sofa cushion, and the carpet. Those stains were by no means difficult to get rid off, the problem was the big claw shaped tear in it, the wadding starting to pool out of it. He cringed, running his hand through his hair as he wondered how he would explain the damage to the owner.

--~--

Part 4 ->

To be continued ->

I hope you enjoyed this part. It was definetly shocking to me that my mind was able to come up with something so grafic, but life is to short to think about if something is cringe or not. Lastly I want to inform you that I'll probably close this Story off with a shorter epilogue. After that I will upload a masterlist with all parts on my Blog for easy accessibility. In the coming days I will inform you about the projects I have planned for the future. I hope you stay tuned for that.

-Elio

[stardewstardropthoughts]

We absolutely do have the same kinks I will consume anything you put out involving breeding?? Raw?? Dirty talk?? I'm playing bingo and you're out here hitting EVERY SINGLE ONE. I appreciate all the content even the fluff! Take all the time you need, I'll be busy lurking on your page while I'm at work don't mind me <3

I went a little wild in Shane’s tbh because I love him but like enjoy!!

The bachelors and breeding kinks

Content warning: afab reader implied and afab parts used, smut, lotta cum talk, little bit of bondage in Shane’s MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

Harvey:

Definitely has a bit of a breeding kink

Loves to cum inside you and will use a plug to keep his cum inside you if you’ll let him

Like one of those remote control vibrators

He has you on your back on the bed while he fucks you

Cock slamming into your sensitive cunt at a quick pace

“Doing so good for me love, just a little longer yeah?”

Can’t stop imagining what it would be like to get you knocked up with his kids

Wants to have your tits heavy with milk while he fucks you so he can suckle them

That being said best believe he’s sucking on a nipple while he fucks you, hand toying with your clit, the other supporting his weight on the bed while his tongue swirls around your nipple

“Gonna fill you up, be good and take it”

Gasps when he cums inside you, stays there for a few moments to catch his breath before very quickly replacing his softening cock with a remote control vibrator

“Can’t have any of that slipping out now, can we?”

Sebastian:

Fantasizes about cumming inside you, always hated pulling out because your cunt is so warm and wet and inviting

Thinks it’s a waste of his cum to blow his load on your stomach, not that he doesn’t love the site of you being marked with his seed

Your on your knees on his computer chair bouncing on his cock while he plays video games

“Shit baby, just like that. Don’t fucking stop”

Meets your bouncing with sharp thrusts up into your cunt, loves the moans you let out

Sets his controller down, threads his fingers in your hair and pulls you into the deepest kiss while you grind on him

Hand wrapped around your throat, gentle enough to still breath but hard enough for that lightheaded rush

Cums in your warm cunt with a whine, doesn’t let you get up

Makes you cock warm him while his cum threatens to spill out of your cunt

You take a nap stuffed full of him in his gaming chair

Alex:

King of stamina, can go multiple rounds in one session

Loves to stuff you full of multiple loads, wants to see how much of his cum your cunt can take

Holding you up against the wall, hands under your ass supporting you while your legs are wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck

Slamming his hips up into your cunt at just the right angle to drive you insane

“That’s it baby, take my cock, gonna stuff you full of my cum yeah? Think you can handle the third load of the night?”

Your brain is overstimulated mush so all you can manage is a high pitched whine and nodding

Loves seeing you like this, all dumb on his cock

“Fuck baby feels so good”

Cums inside you with a loud groan, face buried in your neck while he mouths at the skin there

His cum is slowly dripping out of your cunt and down your thighs

Elliott:

Loves how sensual of an act it is, letting him cum inside you, to claim you in such a way that may create life

Absolutely over the top romantic and lovely

Feather light touches and whispered praises while he works you up

“Doing so well for me my love, that’s it, cum on my fingers. Let me feel you”

Slow deep thrusts when his cock is inside you, passionately making out while his hips drive into yours at an agonizingly slow pace

Leaving soft open mouth kisses down your neck and chest while pulling you down to meet his slow thrusts

“You feel amazing darling, so good for me”

Cums with a groan of your name, hips pressed deep into your center

Cuddles up with you as you cock warm him, will fall asleep in this position, loves the intimacy of the act

Shane:

This man has the biggest breeding kink out of all of them

More then ready and willing to oblige at any point in time

Absolutely will bend you over the kitchen table, hands flipping the bottom of your dress up, running along your thighs and ass, letting the lacy underwear your wearing scrunch in his hand while he gropes you

Pulls both of your hands behind your back and secures them there with his belt wrapped around your wrists and arms

Fingers gently ghosting along the growing damp spot on your panties, rubbing circles where your clit is before he’s shoving them to the side and jamming three fingers deep inside your cunt to stretch you out for his cock

“Fuck baby gonna make sure your nice and ready to take this cock yeah? Gonna stuff your slutty little cunt till your dripping”

When he feels like your adequately prepped he shoved his whole cock in, in one harsh thrust. Bottoming out inside you with a low grunt

“Fuck yeah, take it, fucking take it”

Harsh thrusts while one hands reaching to rub your clit, the other reaching forward to grope your chest and pinch your nipples

When he cums inside you he slams his hips into your as hard as he can getting as deep as possible, one hand in your hair pulling you up a bit so he can groan in your ear

“Fuck that’s such a good girl for me, taking it so fucking good”

Pulls your panties back over your weeping cunt and tells you to spend the rest of the day feeling his cum soak into your panties

Sam:

You’ve been edging him for the past hour and a half now, his cock is so sensitive inside your gummy walls

Your bouncing on his cock, he’s a subby mess beneath you while he whines out

“W-wanna cum inside, please let me, fuck please lemme cum inside baby”

You pretend to give it some thought while speeding up, his hands are all over your body groping your tits, your ass, rubbing your clit

“Hmmm, have you been a good boy?”

His brows are furrowed with the effort it takes to form a coherent sentence

“Fuck I’ve been so good, please please please”

Your smiling at him as you pull him to sit up so your face to face

“Then be my good boy and cum inside this cunt”

Smashes his mouth against yours in a messy needy kiss as he cums inside you

High pitched whines and moans leaving his throat while his hands ball into fists in your hair

Quickly flips you over ready to take control for another round

“Now sweetheart, I think it’s my turn to be in control, and I think it’s payback time”

[tkaulitzlvr]

Hiii so I've been holding onto this idea for a while and like, thought it would look so good in ur style of writing🫶🏻

Reader and tom are extremely close friends 🫣

Reader is like sleeping in her bed and like her eyes flicker open and she sees a massive spider yk on her pillow 😍 so she gets a fright but tried being quiet. Her hotel room and Tom's hotel room were joined together, so she opened the door that separated the two rooms and she walks inside. She goes over to Tom and like lightly shakes him awake. He wakes up and asks her what's wrong and she says what happened. She asks him if she can sleep in his bed for the night and he's hesitant but he says yes. She gets in his bed and and after a little while, alot of smut 🥰

I love you and ur stories so much!! 🤍

SCARED - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: there is an unwanted guest in your hotel room, so you decide to share a room with your best friend, the outcome something neither of you ever expected.

content: fluff & smut.

a/n: honoured u chose me for this request🙏 i hope i did it justice, thank you for requesting!!

my eyes were slowly beginning to close, after what felt like hours of trying to fall asleep, tossing and turning, trying out multiple positions, coming to the conclusion that this is one of the most uncomfortable hotel beds i had ever slept in.

tom had been snoring obnoxiously loud in the room next door for at least an hour, falling asleep soon after he had said goodnight to me, the loud snores emitting from his mouth not helping, his door slightly ajar, no light coming through it.

turning on my side as my eyes are almost shut, i spot something round and black on the corner of my pillow. assuming it is just my imagination, my lethargy making me see things, proving to me how much i really need to sleep, i ignore it. but then it moves. my eyes shoot open, now alert and my mouth opens in horror, seeing the huge spider standing on my pillow, crawling quickly across it. i shriek, jumping out of bed and standing on a nearby chair in the corner of the room, quickly covering my mouth as i worry about waking tom. it begins to move across the sheets, until it slips underneath them, now out of sight.

“fuck fuck fuck!” i whisper, standing on the chair, afraid to move, not having any idea what to do, not wanting to step onto the floor, or anywhere, let alone kill it, my arachnophobia kicking in, spiders, or any insect in fact, always being my biggest fear. my eyes slowly move to tom’s door, trying to peer inside, the gap too small, but i soon come to the realisation that my choices are limited, and if i want to get any sleep tonight, then it will have to be in his room.

it wasn’t that i was worried it would be awkward - tom and i were really close, having known each other since we could walk, our friendship only blossoming from that point. we had never slept in the same bed, though, and i was a little reluctant to ask him, but, as the large spider re-emerges from the sheets, i dart from the chair to his room, creaking the door open and closing it behind me, worried that the spider will find its way into his bedroom.

the room is dark, hard for me to make out anything, but the minimal light through the small gap in the curtains, allows me to spot tom’s sleeping body. his chest is bare, he never slept with a shirt on, rising up and down slowly, quiet snores coming from his parted lips. i feel bad for disturbing him, but i have no other choice, creeping around to the side of the bed he is sleeping on and grabbing his shoulders, gently shaking him awake.

“tom? hey, wake up.” i whisper, trying to be as gentle as i can, knowing he won’t appreciate the 3am wake up call. he stirs a little in his sleep, but doesn’t wake up.

“tom!” i hiss, a little louder this time, watching his eyes slowly flutter open, his eyebrows furrowing once he sees that i am standing at the side of his bed.

“what are you doing here? you okay?” he yawns, his voice raspy and full of sleep as he sits up, flicking the bedside lamp on and rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the light.

“there’s a really big spider in my room.” i say, tom giving me an irritated look, clearly not impressed with my excuse for waking him up.

“really? what, you want me to go in and kill it for you?” he asks, moving the covers off of him, revealing the only item of clothing he is wearing, a pair of baggy shorts.

“i don’t know where it went.” i pause, a little anxious to ask him what i actually wanted. “can i just sleep with you for the night?”

he hesitates a little, pursing his lips together. “i can just kill it-”

“please tom? i really don’t want to go back in there, you know how much i hate spiders.” i plead, studying the way his face softens as he gives in, getting back under the covers.

“fine, get in.” he says, opening the sheets for me at the other side as i climb in, resting my head on the covers whilst he shuts the light off, leaving us in the dark.

“i bet the spider wasn’t even that big.” tom laughs, breaking the silence as i turn to face him, laying flat on his back as i am, little distance between us, but enough to stop someone making assumptions if they were to walk in.

“it was! i saw it crawl across my pillow, i wouldn’t have woken you if it was small.” i defend, a smile creeping onto my face as he returns it, my eyes falling to his lips.

“pfft, you know that’s not true, remember when we were kids? you screamed at the top of your lungs, and the spider was literally this big!” he teases, making a tiny circle with his thumb and pointer finger, laughing as i roll my eyes.

“so what i’m scared of bugs? it’s like the most common fear in the world, give me a break.” i sigh sarcastically, tom putting his hands in the air in defense, muttering a small ‘okay okay’, before letting the room return to its previous silence.

my mouth falls open as a yawn escapes from it, my body falling further under the covers as i get comfortable, ready to fall asleep.

“goodnight.” i say, closing my eyes.

“night.” tom mutters, his limbs spread across the bed, giving me little space, but i didn’t mind, enjoying his company, even though we weren’t speaking. the silence was nice, comforting even, tom and i so close that we didn’t have to make conversation, able to sit quietly beside each other without it being awkward.

his arm slings loosely around my waist as he shuffles a little closer, his head so close to mine i feel his calm breathing against my neck, my body tensing up a little at the unexpected touch. we were best friends, but never really got physically close to each other besides from hugging, definitely not doing anything like this.

“this okay?” he asks, not wanting to push any boundaries, making sure i was comfortable with it, this the first time we have ever done anything even close to cuddling, the idea never crossing my mind as i didn’t see romance in him - only a friend, at least not until now.

“yeah, of course.” i manage to say, clearly nervous, not expecting him to want to be this close to me after he was so hesitant about letting me sleep in his bed.

“you sure?” he asks, sensing the uncertainly in my response.

“mhm.” i say, relaxing my body a little as i melt into his embrace, loosening up and feeling a sense of security that i had never experienced before.

i turn my head to the side, facing him as my eyes open slowly, seeing his already staring into mine. the look on his face is foreign, the light from the curtains illuminating his features so that i can just make out his expression. his lips are parted, slow breaths emitting from them. and his eyes, the look in them is hard to decipher, soft yet concentrated, studying my features as they repeatedly flicker from my eyes to my lips, the brown pools filled of a look similar to one of admiration, love even. he is hard to read, my mind trying to figure out what he is thinking as i continue to look into his eyes, the pit of my stomach swelling in nervousness.

but, before i can buy myself more time to try fathom the complex system that is his emotions, he fits the puzzle pieces together for me, attaching his lips to mine. my eyes widen in shock, his mouth gently moving against mine. his hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer to him. i slowly begin to relax, kissing him back as i feel him smile against my lips, my arms resting behind his neck.

our lips move in sync, fitting together perfectly, moulding in a way that echoes our love for each other, one that we always thought to be strictly platonic. but the way he holds me so gently, with so much care that i could break if he applies pressure, carries the unspoken yet completely mutual realisation that this is way more than just a friendship - and the certainty of our kiss meaning we can never go back from this.

he slowly moves on top of me, not breaking the kiss, his hands cupping my face as his thumbs smooth over my cheeks, the skin turning a light shade of red at his touch. the kiss becomes a little more heated, not yet messy, the passion reciprocated between us as neither us want to pull away, addicted to the feeling, silently wondering how and why it has taken us so long to get to this point, wishing we had done this earlier. yet the way i deepen the kiss, tom holding me with so much love it is palpable even through the heavy air, makes me feel as if i have held him like this for years, us being like this seeming so natural, so right.

his hands reach for the hem of my t-shirt, stopping briefly and breaking the kiss for the first time.

“are you sure about this? we don’t have to.” he says, staring into my eyes, his eyes full of concern, showing me all the patience in the world as he studies my features, a small smile tugging at his lips, both of us breathless.

“i want to.” i say, holding his face in my hands, nodding my head slowly, giving him more reassurance as he still looks a little uncertain. but he soon relaxes once i reconnect our lips, his hands carefully lifting my shirt up and over my head, breaking the kiss to stare at my body, my top half now bare as i wasn’t wearing a bra.

i begin to feel insecure as his eyes scan my figure, instinctively covering my breasts with my hands. he tilts his head, shaking his head a little before placing his hands over mine, interlocking them so that they are no longer covering me, my body now exposed to him.

“don’t cover yourself. you’re so perfect, i want to see it all baby.” the pet name rolls off his tongue so naturally, so smoothly as if he had been calling me it for years, this entire situation feeling so right, the way he looks at me with such admiration confirming that we are meant to be like this, destined to be intimate with one another.

his head moving to the crook of my neck, planting small pecks there, low whines escaping my lips when he hits my sweet spot, teeth grazing the area, i take this as an opportunity to attach my fingers to the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down as far as i can. he sees that i am struggling, placing one final kiss to my neck before pulling them down past his feet, his boxers soon following, leaving him completely naked, the only physical barrier between us being my shorts, tom noticing this.

he reattaches his lips to mine, gently kissing me whilst looping his fingers around the material, pulling them down, along with my panties, throwing the clothing somewhere onto the carpet, nothing but the thick air, filled with our unspoken love for each other, between us, our nakedness a mirror to the desire that takes over.

his forehead rests against mine, his inconsistent breathing tickling my cheeks. i feel him position himself at my entrance, his eyes looking into mine, searching for any uncertainty within them, hating the idea of pressuring me into doing anything. i nod, sensing his apprehension, putting any doubts he has to bed.

“i’ll be gentle, i promise.”

those are the last words he says before sliding into me, my walls stretching with his thickness, pain soon clouding my senses as i wince a little, grabbing onto his arm and squeezing the flesh, signalling for him to stop his movements. he senses my discomfort, taking my hands in his and using his thumbs to stroke the skin gently.

“i’m so sorry. i promise it won’t hurt for long.” he whispers against my lips, giving me a short kiss, his eyes never breaking away from mine as he waits for any signal, any sign that the pain has subsided.

i begin to become accustomed to the feeling, ready for him to carry on, his dick still not fully inside me. i squeeze his hands, letting out a small ‘move’, as he nods his head, kissing my forehead and continuing to slide into me, a strained moan escaping from his lips.

my eyes fall shut, pleasure soon taking over as he said it would, my mouth falling open as he bottoms out, our chests moving in and out, in sync with one another.

“keep going.” i breathe out, wrapping my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper into me.

he quickly obeys, moving in and out of me slowly, going gentle as he promised, the pace just right as i can feel every inch of him inside of me. small moans escape from my mouth, tom placing his head into my neck once again, planting open-mouthed kisses onto my collarbone, my hands threading through his dreads, savouring the feeling of him inside me, knowing that i will never experience anything else like it, our bodies fitting together so perfectly, moving in a way that seems too good to be true - the way he hits all the right places sending me into heaven, my mind questioning wether i am there already.

“you’re doing so good baby, so good.” he praises, his words muffled into my shoulder, his hands now roaming my body, feeling anywhere that he can manage to touch, his pace increasing slightly as he works towards his release, still making sure he doesn’t hurt me.

his skin resembling pure silk, smooth and soft, each muscle crafted by god itself, tensing and relaxing as he moves in and out of me, concentrating on nothing but the pleasure i am feeling, his face now inches away from mine.

a knot starts to form in my stomach, signalling that i am close. my legs tighten their hold on his waist, allowing him to move into me even deeper than he was, hitting a whole new angle as i cry out in pleasure, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. tom watches my expression, acknowledging the way my face twists in contentment when he moves at a certain angle, now doing it repeatedly, my release close.

i try to verbalise it, but my ability to produce coherent sentences is long gone, my mouth uttering a small ‘so close’, tom nodding his head as his eyebrows knit together.

“i know baby, i know. me too.” he sighs, kissing me messily as our lips collide together, the cold metal of his lip ring contrasting with his warm hold on me.

he snaps his hips once more, this enough to push me over the edge as i release, my mouth falling in an ‘o’, shape, no sounds escaping from it despite the millions of thoughts rushing through my head.

after a few more sloppy thrusts, i feel tom shoot his cum inside of me, throwing his head back with a loud groan, riding out our highs before collapsing breathlessly on top of me, stroking my hair with his shaky hands, our heavy breathing sounding throughout the now silent room.

he pulls out, our juices dripping down my legs as i whine at the loss of contact. he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around me, bringing me into his inviting embrace, kissing my lips softly.

“i love you. i’m sorry it’s taken me this long to realise, but i really am in love with you.” he whispers, his hand sitting comfortably at my lower back, the other tucking any loose strands of hair behind my ears.

“i love you too.”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 8

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Bathtub shenanigans, sexy/soothing massage, thigh riding, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

Word Count: 3,511

A/N: Here's Ch. 8. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Y/N sat down on the thick, satin blanket that covered the massive bed and ran her hand across the cool, smooth material, marveling at the room around her.

One thought came to her mind; Dean was definitely paying for this hotel. Sam and Jessica were doing well financially, but they could never afford something so incredibly luxurious.

The floors were marble, with thick, plush rugs placed around the room, warming it up both figuratively and literally. The walls were polished mahogany and home to pieces of art that likely cost more than her entire salary for three years. 

There was also a large, round, mahogany table and four, spindle-legged chairs that sat around it. In the northernmost corner of the room, sat two green, velvet-upholstered chairs with another small mahogany table between them. The chairs had wide seats and were so comfortable looking that Y/N wanted to immediately cuddle up with a book and spend a rainy afternoon eating sweets and not moving.

There were two tall, wide windows with window seats that allowed a person a perfectly unobstructed view of the beautiful hotel gardens. Because it was Christmastime, the evergreen trees in the garden were decorated with red bows, cranberries and strings of shiny beads. It was cheery and beautiful. Her suite did indeed have a private entrance that connected to these gardens and she couldn't wait to wander through them on a sunny winter day.

She also had a beautiful, private bathroom complete with a built-in bathtub that looked large enough to swim in.

Dean had told her that the staff was available to her day and night and that they would make her whatever meals she requested, she need only ask.

Y/N was trying very hard not to succumb, and immediately agree to Dean's offer. She knew she shouldn't be so easily corrupted by wealth and luxury, but she wasn't hypocritical enough to pretend that this kind of extravagance wasn't incredibly enticing.

There was a discreet knock at the door and Y/N went to answer it. When she opened the door a young woman in a maid's uniform stood on the other side. Behind her stood a very short man in an elegant suit.

Before Y/N could ask who they were, the gentleman pushed his way in, followed by numerous beautiful women dressed in stunning gowns. Y/N was somewhat taken aback by the opulence and beauty entering her hotel suite.

The man walked briskly up to her, standing very close. "My name is Mr. Lowen. I have the premiere dress salon in New York and Mr. Winchester has hired me to outfit you completely. Today we will measure you and get your opinion on some of these styles. Within three days we will have an entire wardrobe for you. You will love it."

Mr. Lowen had a high pitched voice with a southern drawl to it that Y/N found quite charming. She merely nodded, slightly dazed, and Mr. Lowen led her over to the window seat while they looked over the many gowns modeled by the women.

At first Y/N was shy to give her opinion, simply telling Mr. Lowen that yes, she liked this dress and that shoe. But he eventually managed to cajole actual opinions out of her. Yes, she loved that deep blue color, no she didn't like the puffed sleeve. She liked shoes that were simple in design, but made from fine materials.

After looking at the gowns, every inch of Y/N was measured, from head to toe, as Mr. Lowen made notes in a small notepad.

Before she knew it, two hours had passed and he was saying goodbye and kissing her on both cheeks. He promised to return in three days to personally deliver her new wardrobe.

Her guests left in a flurry of activity, and the silence and calm that followed felt soothing. Y/N decided to continue the decadence and began to draw herself a bath. The water was warm as it poured into the large tub. 

There were so many different oils and soaps on the shelf beside the tub that Y/N took quite a while deciding which to use. She finally settled on a lavender scented oil and a soap with a light rose scent. She poured some of the oil into the water before turning off the taps and climbing in.

A groan left her lips as the warm water surrounded her muscles. The gentle lavender scent of the oil made Y/N worry for a moment that she might fall asleep in the tub.

Then she heard the door leading from the gardens open and Dean's voice calling her name. Suddenly she was wide awake, her body pulsing. 

He came into the doorway of the bathroom and stopped. He slowly leaned himself against the frame and allowed a sly smile to spread across his face.

"Enjoying the facilities, I see.”

Y/N nodded, shy for a moment. But then she reminded herself that she was practicing boldness and trying out audacity, so she leaned back in the tub.

"Join me?" She asked, allowing all her desire to show in her expression as she opened her arms to reveal herself to Dean. She was thrilled at the lust that exploded behind his jade green eyes.

She licked her lips as she watched him strip out of his many layers of clothes. Finally he stepped, naked, into the tub behind her. Some of the water sloshed out of the tub as he pulled her back against him. It felt much nicer to recline against his warm, hard body than against the cold porcelain of the tub.

They lay like that for a while, Dean's arms wrapped around her and his chin resting on the top of her head. Eventually though, he sat her up and began washing her hair. He poured warm water over her scalp using the porcelain pitcher next to the tub. Then he took the rose-scented soap and lathered her hair before moving down to her neck and shoulders. He bathed all of her, and in spite of the intimacy of his touches, Y/N found only comfort there. She felt pampered and spoiled and it inexplicably made her want to cry a little.

After rinsing her off completely, Dean stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist. He pulled open a closet Y/N hadn't even noticed before, and removed a plush, cozy dressing gown. He helped Y/N out of the tub and rubbed a thick towel briskly over her skin before wrapping her up in the dressing gown. 

He drained the tub and then led her over to the bench at the vanity. She sat down and allowed him to towel her hair before he began to run a brush gently through the strands.

All the while, through all of his ministrations, he talked to her; about his day, about his company, the rivals he was going to war with and the people he hoped to bring in as allies and partners. He told her amusing anecdotes about his employees and Y/N learned two new things about him. He was incredibly proud of his work, and he loved the people who worked for him. He talked about their families and knew all about their lives.

As he pulled her hair into a loose braid, Y/N couldn't remember the last time she had felt this at peace and content.

Then his clever, long fingered hands found the lavender oil and began a slow, delicious torture.

He pulled her dressing gown off of her shoulders and applied warm, lavender scented pressure to her shoulder blades. Without meaning to, Y/N let out a groan that surprised her in its animalistic nature.

Dean seemed completely unsurprised and merely chuckled. He slipped her dressing gown down to her waist and caressed long, strong strokes of oil into her torso and down her arms. Strong fingers spread warmth and moisture into her breasts and Y/N felt the now familiar fire shoot into her core, and the tension began to build for real.

Dean stood her up, removing the dressing gown completely. He got down on one knee in front of her and, using more oil, ran his hands from her left hip, down her thigh and calf, his fingers brushing a burning heat into her skin before doing the same to her right leg.

Then, before she could blink, he moved to sit down on the vacated bench and pulled her face down across his lap. For a moment, Y/N thought he meant to spank her, and her mind both rebelled and thrilled slightly at the idea.

But soon she felt his fingers running across her backside, rubbing the oil into the soft fleshy skin there. Every time he ran his hand across a cheek, his fingers got increasingly close to the part of her that was dying for his touch.

She could feel his hardening shaft beneath her belly, pushing up against his towel, and it only served to make her even more desperate for him.

Finally she felt his slick fingers slip into the folds of her body. She was so primed, and she was so wet for him, that it took only a few passes of his thumb across the sensitive little button there, for her to cry out her release.

But Dean was far from finished with her.

Helping her to sit up, he positioned her so she was straddling his right thigh. She held onto his upper arms for balance and rested her forehead on his shoulder as she panted and tried to catch her breath. As she breathed in, deep and slightly shaky, Dean took hold of her hips, lifting her slightly and then pressing her down, hard and fast, against his thigh. 

Y/N gasped and caught his eye, a look of surprise and wonder in her gaze as he repeated the action, flexing his thick thigh muscle this time, so that her dripping center began to throb with pleasure, her sensitive skin rubbing against the soft towel covering his leg.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Dean asked, his voice gravelly and heated. Y/N could do nothing but nod frantically. When he did it again, slamming her down harder this time, she cried out and dug her fingernails into the bulging muscles in his upper arms.

He took his hands from her hips and began circling both her nipples with his fingertips, making them pucker tightly. But she wanted him to continue lifting and pressing her against that hard ridge of muscle. She was desperate to feel the pleasurable pressure against her aching core again, and she whined at Dean as she rocked slightly on his leg. 

“Please?” She whispered.

“It’s up to you now, baby. Chase that feeling.” Dean told her, but she shook her head, burying her face in the crook of his neck, embarrassed. Dean pulled away slightly, slipping his forefinger beneath her chin. 

He spoke quietly, but firmly. “You know what you want,Y/N, and you know how to get it. So go on, follow what feels good. Admit what you want and find your pleasure.” 

He encouraged her by letting his hand fall between her legs to softly stroke the sensitive button there - enough to urge her on, but not enough to provide her the friction and pressure she was craving.

“Dean.” She gasped and tried to push down on his fingers, but he pulled them away. In frustration she lifted herself slightly and then fell back onto his thigh.

“Oh!” She shouted breathlessly as that same incredible sensation swept through her body. She moved her hands to his shoulders and used them for balance and as leverage to lift her hips and then slam herself back down on him, slowly at first, but with increasing speed and intensity. 

Heat swept through her body and her aching need became stronger and stronger the more she pushed and pressed against Dean's hard body. But after nearly ten minutes of chasing her climax she felt herself waning and she dropped, exhausted, against Dean’s shoulder, whimpering softly.

“Poor baby.” Dean whispered in her ear, sending shivers skittering across her skin. 

He let his lips drift down the column of her neck before sucking delicately on her pulse point. Y/N moaned and tilted her head so he could reach it easier. 

“I know you’re tired, sweetheart; do you want me to take over?” She nodded, but he continued quickly. “I’ll warn you though, if I do, I’m gonna keep you coming and coming over and over, till you can’t breathe for pleasure - till you’re completely spent and mindless, only able to scream my name.”

He pulled her earlobe into his mouth and spoke around it. “Is that what you want, beautiful? Hmm?” 

Y/N felt like her body was going to fall over the edge just listening to his rumbling voice describing his plans for her. She nodded quickly, desperate for him to pull her apart.

With her nod, he scooped her up and took her to the bed. He threw the blankets back and laid her down, moving between her legs before stretching out on his stomach. Pulling her thighs open wide, he held her in place as he dropped his mouth to her slick folds, licking and sucking her to a climax in mere moments.

But Y/N soon found out that he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he planned on making her fall apart over and over. He brought on the explosions one after the other - endlessly. Occasionally he gave her a few minutes reprieve, one time he even stopped long enough to bring her a glass of water to rehydrate her. But without fail, he’d return to his place between her legs and continue his exquisite torment. 

Y/N lost track of the number of times the powerful, sweeping bliss spread across her body. But the pleasure seemed to go on forever and by the end she was shaking and weeping in ecstasy.

“Please.” She croaked to Dean as she pushed her fingers through his hair. “Can’t…anymore…”

“I bet you can.” Dean said wickedly before pulling the overworked little bundle of nerves into his mouth one more time and sucking deeply.

Sure enough, she exploded again, her limbs heavy and unmoving as her body shook with her release. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her whole body weeped with aching, exhausted pleasure.

Finally Dean moved up from his long-held position between her legs to pull her against his chest. He pushed aside the sweaty tendrils of hair that clung to her temples and forehead, dropping kisses across her cheeks. 

“How are you doin’, sweetheart?” He asked and Y/N could only groan in answer. She heard the smile in his voice as he kissed the tip of her nose. “That good, huh?”

Y/N shivered as her sweat-slicked skin began to cool. She shook her head and her voice was weak and muffled. “I need another bath.”

Dean just chuckled and shook his head. “N’ah, I like you just like this, dripping wet and sated.” 

He kissed her temple and pulled her closer as she drifted off. “And completely mine.”

***

For the next three days Y/N didn’t leave her room and, in fact, spent most of her time in bed.

Dean left her dead asleep in the mornings; she’d wake up to the lingering scent of him on the pillow, but only a cold bed beside her. She appreciated that he let her keep sleeping when he left to go to work - lord knew he exhausted her enough for her to need the rest. But she’d still rather he said goodbye before he left. 

Instead she woke up alone, late in the morning, usually around ten o’clock, and rang down for a light breakfast - toast and jam with a cup of hot chocolate or coffee. After eating, she’d wash and dress in her one and only dress. 

Her suitcases had finally been found and they were on a journey back from Boston, but the train wasn’t expected to arrive for a couple of days, by which time, her new wardrobe would already be there. 

When she was dressed in her gray governess’ uniform, she’d settle into the comfortable green chairs and read for a couple of hours.

Dean usually showed up for an hour or so at lunch, and inevitably her uniform would come off quickly and she’d end up back in bed, with Dean knocking her out for the better part of the afternoon. 

It was without a doubt, the most indolent and slothful she’d ever been in all of her twenty six years…and she was loving it. 

But she was still very happy when, on the morning of the third day, she woke up just as Dean was leaving the bed to dress for work. She reached for him and grabbed his wrist.

“No, don’t go.” She said sleepily, trying to pull him back to her side.

He chuckled softly and leaned sideways so that his upper body stretched over her, while his feet stayed planted on the floor. He kissed her gently and briefly before pulling back to smile at her. 

“Sorry, beautiful girl, I wish I could stay, but I’ve gotta go. And, I’m afraid, I won’t be able to come back at lunch today. I have a meeting at the club at noon.”

Y/N pouted, truly disappointed that she’d have to go all day without seeing him.

He grinned. “I know, trust me, I would much rather have a lunch meeting with you.” He kissed her again, deeper this time, before continuing. “But I’ve put off this meeting several times over the last few days and I can’t postpone it again.”

She nodded a little sadly and Dean kissed her once more, lingering over her lips for a moment and then pulling back reluctantly. “But I’ll tell you what, Lowen should be here this afternoon with your new dresses. What do you say you pick out a walking dress and come out on the town with me tonight?”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to hide both her excitement and trepidation. “Out on the town? Where would we go?”

Dean’s smile turned teasing. “Well, if I tell you, I'll spoil the surprise, but I have all the sights of New York to show you, so wear comfortable shoes.”

Y/N laughed lightly. “None of my shoes will be comfortable. Fashion demands otherwise.”

Dean nodded. “Then I guess I’ll just have to soothe your sore feet when we get back tonight.” He reached beneath the blanket at her feet and Y/N thought he might treat her to a quick foot massage, but instead, she squealed and yanked her feet away from him as his strong fingers began to tickle her toes mercilessly.

He laughed at her affronted expression before kissing her nose quickly and patting her bottom beneath the thick blanket it was covered in, and moving away to get ready.

Y/N dozed slightly as she listened to Dean moving around in the bathroom, enjoying the pleasantly domestic sounds of him washing and shaving. He emerged dressed and ready to leave, heading towards the door. But Y/N sat up and reached out to him, calling him back to her side.

“Kiss me goodbye?” She asked sweetly.

He came to sit on her side of the bed, leaning down to brush his lips over hers, ever so softly. “Goodbye, sweetheart. I’ll see you tonight.” He murmured against her lips, nibbling on them gently.

He smelled of shaving soap and tooth polish and Y/N breathed him in like an elixir. His hair was neatly combed and she didn’t want to ruffle it, so she slipped her hands up to his cheeks, sliding them along the smooth skin there. She knew that by the time she saw him again, his five o’clock shadow would be returned to chafe her skin in that most pleasurable way. 

He turned his head, pressing his lips into the palm of her hand. The action reminded her of the very first time they’d been alone together in the library. At the time, the brush of his mouth over her skin had seemed so scandalous, so brazen. But now, the relative innocence of the caress, the softness and affectionate nature of the gesture, solidified just how far they’d come - how far she’d come - in a matter of months.

And I can never go back.

The thought was fleeting and she banished it from her mind quickly, because it felt daunting; it felt like something too permanent. She didn’t want to think about the future and what it would look like, how it would feel. She wanted to live just right there, in that very moment, with Dean’s lips soft and warm against her skin, the scent of him sharp and heady. 

The future was lifetimes away. It had to be. She needed it to be.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

[wolfs-archive]

"Did you really have to tie me like this? I feel like I'm about to be raped"

Masterlist

Summary: Coworkers Chan and Y/N where Chan has had feelings for Y/N but just a bit apprehensive about getting rejected. A team party brings out the feelings from Chan.

Pairing: Coworker!Chris X Coworker!Y/N

Genre: suggestive, fluff maybe??, mention of passionate kissing, Chan getting tied up, drunk confessions, mention of rape.

Note: The Chan mentioned here is no where related to the idol Stray Kids and is just a fictional character. Minors DNI please!!!

A/N: Chan was chosen as the next fic request and in the list of topics the "Chan's Drunk confession" was voted the most.

"Y/N... you are pretty", he said for the 35th time and the next time, "Y/N.." he started. "I am pretty, isn't it?" completed Y/N. "No I love you!!!! I have always been, and will always!!!!! Care to be my girlfriend?" he asked. "Finally!!!! Do you know how many days I have waiting for this?" she replied with a smile on her face.

Chan and Y/N have always been colleagues, Chan's love for Y/N had no bounds. Whenever Y/N wanted a helping hand in her coding, the brainy Chan would come to her assistance. When he saw her walking to grab a bottle, he would too in the name of seeing her. Though having different cabinets they were faced opposite to each other, but Chan wanted to watch her throughout her life. Ask him why he liked her. Was it because she was beautiful? No. Was it because she was helpful? No. Was it because she was a good colleague? No. It was because she always had such a carefree attitude, if anything went wrong she wouldn't get upset or feel bad about it, instead, she would see the good side to it. An Optimistic person. She knew how to handle things carefully. A supportive senior for her juniors. All this character made him fall for her. At times he found it hot when Y/N was bossy with her close mates. Yearning to be in that circle and be under the influence of a dominant Y/N made Chan fall for her even more.

Chan had tried multiple times to confess it through something else but in vain. Once he sent a bouquet of flowers during valentine's. Despite knowing it, she announced it in the group chat asking the person to come in person to confess to her if he had the guts. Our man had no guts to and didn't. Similarly, during their common outing, he asked her if he wanted to help her build the tent and she retorted saying she could help herself. Y/N didn't want to brag, but was very happy to have Chan fall in love with her, she too fell for him and wanted him to come out of the zone to make him comfortable enough and not make him feel all restless. Hence she decided to hide her feelings, till Chan himself confessed to her.

The project Chan and Y/N worked on was well appreciated by the client and to celebrate the happy moment the team (had other members as well!!) gathered for a few drinks that night. A few rounds later, Chan who was seen drunk approached a yet sober Y/N. "Is this place free? Can I sit here?" he asked. "Mm, sure. Why not?" answered Y/N. "A--Actu---Actually, I have been wanting to tell you something? "he stuttered. "Go ahead, I'm all ears" she said. "Y/N you are pretty!!!" he started. And that's how Chan confessed to Y/N. The moment he confessed, he went giddy and fell unconscious on the table. As the party came to a conclusion. Y/N decided to take Chan to his house. Ofc!!!! We girls are the best stalkers when it comes to our boys, so we definitely know their whereabouts. When Y/N drove home, she rolled the windows down to let Chan breathe the natural air to help him sober up. As soon as she reached the home, she took him up the stairs, entered the door, and went to his bedroom to make him lay on it comfortably. She removed his shoes and went for a change of clothes. By now, Chan had woken up from being unconscious, but was still drunk. When she opened the buttons of his shirt, he pushed her hand away, saying, "Who are you? I'm Y/N's. Only she can touch me" he said. Seeing his vulnerable state made Y/N laugh and then literally had to fight for her life, when she changed clothes for him. Chan's hands were always on work. Feeling too sweaty, he decided to remove his pants, when Y/N stopped him from. After, changing his clothes, she made him drink water, and when she tucked his sheets, she felt a huge grip on her waist. When she turned to take his hands off her, he pulled her into a kiss. Man was really too hot or maybe passionate I guess, he bit her lips when he was kissing and when she broke out, she felt the iron smell from her lips which she realised blood. "Christopher Chan, you menace!!!! It's really tough dealing with you when you're drunk. Look at you all acting afraid till yesterday as though I would eat you up alive, and now having all the guts to kiss me, when you couldn't even confess when you're sober." she said and went to the cupboard to search for another shirt. The reason why? To tie his hands to the bedpost so that he doesn't engage in any other mishap. Once it was all done, she went to sleep on the couch. She set an alarm so that she could wake up early to prepare a hangover cure for her so called boyfriend.

Chan woke up the morning with a splitting headache. Unable to move his hands, he had to check if he was at home or if someone had kidnapped him. When he saw the ceiling, the window and its blinders, he was sure it was his house. "Excuse me" he shouted for help. Y/N came in with a ladle. "Y/N, what is this? Why are you home? Who tied me up?" he asked. "Hold on, Chill!! One at a time" she replied. "For your first question. Mr. Chris, I tied you up. For the second one, I was the one who brought you home when you passed out after getting drunk" she said raising the ladle. "And finally for the third one, I was the one who tied you up" she finally finished. "Y/N.. Why.. Why do you seem like you got hurt on your lips, did anyone attack you? Why have you tied me up?". "It's not wound by hurt, it was your passionate kiss, in the process of kissing, you bit me." she said smirking. "If someone had attacked me, it was none other than you.. As for why I have tied you, your hands seem to be a menace, they hugged my waist, pulled me down, didn't allow me to change your shirt, and was about to remove your pants" she emphasised pointing to where his zippers were. "Did you really have to tie me like this? I feel like I'm about to be raped" he said with his eyes focussing on those ties and with a hint of embarrassment. "If I didn't tie your hands, I don't know what all those hands would have done to me, also, I don't mind raping you either...." she said suggestively. Hearing this from Y/N, made him look at her with shock. "Y/N?? Wh- What do you mean?" he asked. "The entire office including me knew you were the one to offer flowers to me, Even a fool would know the amount of love you directed towards me. Why would you hesitate to let your feelings out? Afraid of rejection? I wanted you to take time to confess to me, and that's why I waited" she added. "But I didn't confess to you yet" he said. "Chan, I get that you're the one with lots of brain, but I think it doesn't help when it comes to love or romance I guess." she said as she went close to him to untie the knot. "You dummy, you confessed to me yesterday" she said narrowing the gap between the two. "How about we enjoy becoming a couple with a kiss, but hey! no biting me." she suggested as she went in for a kiss.

[snaillock]

ok so there’s been a lot stuff going on today with multiple writers on here including myself finding out that our works have been reposted on wattpad without ANY of our permission. despite this specific account doing this for over a year by now, basically nobody was even aware of it until today.

there’s a bunch of things wrong about doing this but one specific thing this person said to justify it really ticked me off.

this is a really shitty excuse for taking the MULTIPLE works from writers to a whole different app where most of them aren’t even on.

the main point i wanted to make for this post is that if you want to have a place to store all the fics you like, the reblog function is such an easy way to do it. all you have do make a side blog (optional and very easy), reblog whatever you like, and add tags to make it easy to find again. it’s so simple and it benefits EVERYONE involved especially the writers.

artists and writers on this site have been saying this FOREVER, over and over again.

personally i LOVE it when people reblog my fics and add their own tags especially if it’s thoughts and commentary on what they had read. it’s highly motivating and it makes me feel like there’s actual community on here. doing this can really make a writer’s day.

this person also mentioned that going through their own likes is a basically a whiplash going from fluff to smut. the thing is… there’s already a solution for that. taggingggggg!!!! if you want fluff then reblog those fics with fluff tags. if you want smut, then reblog those fics with smut tags. etc. etc. etc. it ain’t that difficult.

for the offline reading part, that’s so fucking silly man i can’t. bro honestly i would’ve much rather preferred if this person copied and pasted my fics onto a private note or document for their own personal enjoyment. but noooo they had to copy me and other people’s entire stories PUBLICLY without even making sure that it was alright to do.

anyways to wrap this up, the account name is ohmyjung. unfortunately i don’t think there’s really a way to report them for this since it seems like wattpad really care more abt stealing from published works. so the best we can do right now is hope that this person takes everything down (even if apparently they’re blocking writers for confronting them????)

update: the evil has been rid of. round of applause for everyone’s hard work. my point still stands though. if you want to genuinely show appreciation a really good fan fiction you have read, then throw in a quick reblog. it means a lot

[supernaturalscribe67]

The Secrets We (Don't) Keep

Words: 7,314

POV: 1st & 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean/Sam Winchester x Brother!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, Fluff, Mention of John Winchester, Mention of Childhood Abuse, Awkward Moments

Summary: After finding out that his brothers, Sam and Dean, read the first entry of his journal, the reader decides to take a rather creative approach to his payback.

Request:

i’d love to see you continue with that winchester brother reader! or something similar? your writing is very comfortable to read :)

@stklett

@xdark-acadamiax - (Tagged because I saw how much you loved this idea!)

A/N: I really hope you guys enjoy this next part! I can honestly admit some parts make me laugh so I hope they make you guys laugh as well! Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

OCTOBER 2014

I don’t know why I thought I was going to be able to keep this journal private. I guess my expectations were too high. How dare I assume that Sam and Dean would respect my privacy? Of course, they wouldn’t. How dare I presume that hiding this thing between my mattress and boxspring would be a good idea? I mean, who in their right mind would hide something there? Everyone looks between their brother’s boxspring and mattress!

Silly me.

But, since I found out my brothers decided to read through my first entry (and ultimately vandalize my journal), I have done some brainstorming. Brainstorming ways that I can get back at them. I've considered the classic pranks to start with; itching powder in their underwear, hair dye in their shampoo, Nair in their body wash, or even putting laxatives in their coffee. All of these pranks have been used by all three of us multiple times. Even with some thinking, I’m still unable to come up with a prank that I feel would be good enough to teach them a lesson. 

So, I’ve come up with the next best thing. 

In this entry, I’m going to be writing down some of Sam and Dean’s embarrassing moments. 

Throughout our decades of life, all three of us have had our fair share of shameful moments, but the instances that I am thinking of are ones that I like to bring up from time to time. Each time I mention them, I get an eye roll from Dean and one of Sam’s classic bitch faces. It’s always so satisfying to get that kind of reaction from them. 

It would only be fitting to see what kind of reaction I get when they eventually read this entry. 

JUNE 1989

Everyone has their fears. Some people’s fears are more valid than others. Sam has a fear of clowns, I have a fear of needles, and Dean has a fear of planes. I can understand Sam’s fear of clowns - Plucky Pennywhistle's always made me uneasy when I was a kid - and, as far as my fear of needles, have you seen some of the needles that doctors use on patients? They’re HUGE! No thanks. 

What a lot of people don’t know about my older brother, however, is that he didn’t just suddenly have a fear of planes. He didn’t wake up one morning and discover that he didn’t like flying. Sam’s fear of clowns developed from our times at Plucky Pennywhistle’s, my fear of needles stemmed from an unprofessional doctor (who shouldn’t practice medicine anymore, in my opinion) from my second round of childhood vaccinations, and Dean’s fear of flying…well…

Dean used to be afraid of heights. 

I say ‘used’ to be because, if he still has that fear, he does a really good job at hiding it. We’ve gone to some pretty high places on our hunts, and, from what I noticed, it never seemed to bother him. He could always be masking it well enough, which is possibly the case. Then again, he could have learned to deal with the fear and forget about it completely. Lucky him. 

But, when Dean was younger, that was one thing that he was never good at doing - masking his emotions - especially when the three of us were by ourselves. When it was just us three, Dean felt like he could express how he truly felt about anything and we would keep it just between us. It was a little 'brother code' that we had going. Whatever was said between us was kept between us. Kind of like Vegas, in a way. 

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

I’ve always wanted to visit Vegas. 

Stay on topic, (Y/N).

For most of our young childhood, we spent half the time traveling with our father, and the other half at Bobby’s. I always loved going to Bobby’s house. It felt like a home. To me, it was always my home growing up, even if I wasn’t there all the time. Even though we stopped going there as often when we got older, it was still the place that I would technically consider my home. We had the most fun there. We felt like we could be kids for once. Like we didn’t need to worry about the things that went bump in the night anymore. 

I loved Bobby’s house. 

We were there during summer vacation, which was somewhat of a common occurrence when we were younger. Sam, Dean, and I always found things to do while we were there, and playing throughout the maze of cars in Bobby’s junkyard wasn’t unusual. Normally, we would play hide-and-seek, tag, have races, or some stupid war games that we would come up with. 

That day, however, we discovered a new stack of cars, about six cars high in total, that we had not previously known about near the far backside of the property. We would have usually stayed towards the front, but, that day, we decided to roam around. Dean had the expert idea to see who could climb the highest. Sammy went first, climbing on top of the first car with some help before he got nervous and backed down. I managed to make it up three cars before I decided that I had enough and came back down. Dean, on the other hand, took the challenge a little too seriously. He didn’t waste any time reaching the car that sat on top of the pile. He was so proud of himself. 

It all went downhill after that…

“Ha! I beat you both!” Dean exclaimed as he stood on top of the roof of the car, fists balled up and placed onto his hips in a mock Superman pose. “I’m the King of the Cars!”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Sam pouted as he looked up at Dean, his bottom lip pushed out. 

“I wanna get up there,” he said, letting out a small whine.

“You tried to get up there, Sammy, but you said it was too high.” (Y/N) explained, looking down at him.

Sam hung his head as he kicked a pebble on the ground. Dean still stood on top of the car, waving his arms around. He let out quiet, faint shouts as if mimicking a cheering crowd. Sam pursed his lips ever so slightly.

"I wanna play hide-and-go-seek." 

"It's ‘hide-and-seek’, Sammy." (Y/N) deadpanned. 

"That's what I said." 

"Do you wanna play with just you and me?" 

"No," Sam shook his head and glanced up at his oldest brother, who was still cheering for himself. "I want De to play." 

(Y/N) gave a short nod before he turned to his older brother as well. He reached up and cupped his hands to the side of his lips. "Hey, idiot! Sammy and I wanna play hide-and-seek! Get down here so we can go play!" He called up to Dean. 

"You guys are just jealous because I could climb up to the top!" 

“No one’s jealous of you, Dean! We just want to play! Come on!” (Y/N) let out a groan as he placed his hands on his sides. 

Dean scoffed and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He mumbled as he walked closer to the edge of the car. 

As Dean gazed down at the ground below, he froze. His eyes went wide and his legs and arms tensed. The confident smile that he had once had on his face was now gone, replaced by an uneasy frown. (Y/N) and Sam’s eyes were on him, watching him intently, waiting. After a minute or so of Dean standing there, not moving, (Y/N) shook his head and cupped his hands around his mouth again. 

“What are you doing?” He called out. 

(Y/N)’s voice caused Dean to jump and turn his gaze towards him. He opened his mouth, attempting to speak. 

“I-I can’t get down,” Dean said with a shaky tone. 

“What do you mean you ‘can’t get down’?” 

“I can’t get down! I-It’s too high!” 

“You were the one that wanted to get up there!” 

“I know I was, will you just shut up!” Dean’s voice came out cracked and high-pitched. 

(Y/N) closed his mouth and stood there, watching as Dean struggled to get down on his knees. As he attempted to move his leg down towards the trunk of the car, he felt the car shift. (Y/N) and Sam jumped when they heard the metal scrape against the car below. Dean let out a yelp and pulled his leg back. His fists were clenched onto nothing, knuckles a ghostly white color. His face was noticeably red and tears began to form in his eyes. 

“G-Go get Bobby!” Dean called down. 

“You can get down, Dean! You’ll be okay!” 

“No! I’m not okay!” Dean let out a sob. “It’s too high! The car’s going to fall. Go get Bobby,” Dean’s voice was as shaky as his hands were. 

(Y/N) looked down at Sam. “Go get Bobby, Sammy.” 

Sam’s eyes were wide with worry as he nodded slightly. He turned and made a mad dash towards the house. “Bobby! Bobby!” He cried out. 

(Y/N) then turned his attention back to Dean, who seemed like he was seconds away from having a breakdown.

“Dean! You’re going to be okay! Just come down the same way you went up.” 

“N-No!” Dean shook his head rapidly. 

“Quit being a baby!”

“I’m not a baby!” 

“Then why are you crying like one!?” 

“Will you shut up!?” 

(Y/N) stopped talking and let out a huff. Not even a minute later, Sam came running out towards them, Bobby quickly behind him. Bobby ran his fingers through his hair stressfully. 

“What the Hell have you idjits done?” 

It took thirty minutes of coaxing for Dean to be able to climb down two of the cars before Bobby had to make his way towards him and carry him down the rest of the way. Needless to say, Dean wasn’t in the mood to play any type of game with us after that, especially when I began to tease him mercilessly about his crying. I still tease him to this day about it, comparing him to a cat that had been stuck in a tree. Bobby was known as ‘Firefighter Bobby’ for a good month-and-a-half after that. 

We were forbidden from climbing on the cars anymore, which none of us seemed to have a problem with. As for my teasing, I had managed to get in trouble with Bobby once he caught me and was forced to help him organize the study while Sam and Dean went out to play. It wasn’t very fun, at the time, but I had learned a lot more about hunting during that punishment, so some good came out of it. 

To this day, Dean still likes to pretend as if it never happened. Or, if it did happen, then it was either Sam or me that needed to be rescued. Not him. He never needed to be rescued (according to him). Still, Sam and I can remember this vividly. It’s two against one, Dean. 

So much for ‘King of the Cars’.

OCTOBER 1989

Sam was always gullible when he was a kid. He grew out of it in his early teens and became more aware of how deceitful people could be. Before that, however, he was fun to mess with. I’m his big brother, I have a right to mess with him. 

I still do, but it’s not as easy. 

Sam was the type to believe anything that anyone wanted to tell him. Even if it was the most outlandish thing possible. I was able to convince him that unicorns were real and that everyone got one when they turned ten. When he asked Bobby what kind of unicorn he had gotten for his tenth birthday, Bobby told him the truth right then and there. He was so disappointed that he didn’t talk to me for about a week. I felt bad, at least a little bit. But the other part of me thought it was the funniest thing I had ever done to him at the time. 

That was when he was four. 

I still ask him what he wants his unicorn to look like. 

He hasn’t given me a straight answer yet. 

Around the age of six, Sam had started to let his hair grow out. Granted, everyone’s hair was growing out at that point - my father had neglected to get us any type of haircut for a little over six months - but out of all of ours, Sam’s was the longest. Dean had started calling him ‘Samantha’ at some point, which irritated Sam to no end. I decided to take a different approach, however. 

Back then, we knew about monsters. We knew about the different kinds of monsters that our father fought but didn’t know a lot about them. We knew their names, what they looked like, and common signs for each of them. One thing we didn’t know about certain monsters was how people were turned into them. 

So, with this limited knowledge in the back of my head, one dreary fall night, while our father was away on a hunt and Dean was out finding us some food, I decided to play a little…prank, if you will, on Sammy. 

Sam’s eyes were glued to the television screen. A rerun of Alf played that he was completely enamored with. Meanwhile, (Y/N)’s eyes were attached to something other than the show. He watched as Sam brushed his long locks out of his face occasionally. Sam tucked some hair behind his ear, but it didn’t stay there long before it fell in his face. His hair was down to his chin by then and (Y/N) had to admit that he was more irritated about the length than Sam was. 

When the show moved to a commercial break, Sam clenched his eyes shut and stretched his arms over his head. He glanced over at (Y/N) and furrowed his brows. 

“What’re you looking at?” 

“That hair,” (Y/N) gestured to the top of his head. 

Sam frowned. “What’s wrong with my hair?” 

“It’s long…too long,” (Y/N) narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He reached over and gently grabbed a piece of Sam’s hair before letting it go, allowing the strand to fall against Sam’s chubby cheek. 

“Dad said he was going to get it cut soon.” 

“Yeah, I know, but…it’s not like mine and Dean’s hair. It’s so much longer. It’s kind of like…” (Y/N) pursed his lips as he studied the top of his head. “Werewolf hair. Maybe you’re turning into a werewolf.”

Sam’s eyes slowly widened as he sat up straight and shifted uneasily in his seat. “I-I’m not turning into a werewolf.” 

“I don’t know, it sure seems like it.” 

Sam reached up and hesitantly ran his fingers through his hair. “How…how would I know if I’m turning into a werewolf?” 

“What? You don’t know the signs?” 

Sam shook his head. (Y/N) scoffed. 

“Come on, Sammy! You have to know the classic signs!” (Y/N) exclaimed as he leaned forward, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “The long hair, the way your fingernails curve, the hair between your eyebrows, and your sharp teeth.” 

Sam brought his hands up to his face, his fingers roaming around his features. Quickly, he got off the couch and ran towards the motel bathroom, shoving the door open so hard that it bounced off the wall. (Y/N) followed after his brother. He watched as Sam studied himself in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, brushed a single finger down his nose, studied the curvature of his fingernails, and bared his teeth. His eyes widened as soon as they landed on his sharp canines. Sam frowned and pushed his bottom lip out. It began to wobble as tears appeared in the corner of his eyes. He turned to (Y/N).

“I-I don’t want to be a werewolf!” He whimpered. 

(Y/N) leaned against the doorframe and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, Sammy. It looks like you can’t help it.” 

“B-But,” Sam turned and looked at himself in the mirror for a second before turning back to his brother. “But what if hunters come after me?” 

“Hey!” (Y/N) shook his head as he walked closer to Sam. He placed both of his hands on his shoulders, bending down so that he was at eye level with his little brother. “That is something you never have to worry about. Dean, Dad, and I will protect you.” 

Tears streaked down his red cheeks and he nodded. “Do you think Dad and De know?” 

(Y/N) sighed and pursed his lips, moving his hands off of Sam so that he could place them on his hips. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. They haven’t said anything about it, yet. But, I think you should tell them. That way, they will be able to protect you.” 

“I-I don’t wanna tell them.” 

“Why not?” 

“What if they don’t like me anymore because I’m a werewolf?” 

(Y/N) shook his head and gave a comforting smile. “Sammy, they’re always going to love you, werewolf or not.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

Sam glanced down at the ground, his shoulders slumped. (Y/N) could see how much the news had upset his brother. He didn’t want him to be in hysterics by the time Dean got back, so he thought of the next best thing to try and cheer him up. 

“You know, a lot of people think that werewolves are the bad guys,” he began. “But you could be the first-ever werewolf hunter! You could be the one werewolf that protects humans from bad things! Kind of like a…uh…a werewolf superhero!” 

Sam looked up at him and raised his brows, cocking his head to the side. “A werewolf superhero?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Like a…a werewolf Batman?” A smile slowly appeared on Sam’s lips. 

“Just like a werewolf Batman.” 

The worry quickly left Sam’s face as he looked at himself in the mirror. He studied his face once more. “Maybe being a werewolf isn’t so bad,” he shrugged. “Thank you, (Y/N).” 

“Anytime, Sammy,” 

Sam turned and wrapped his arms tightly around (Y/N) in a bone-crushing embrace. “I love you.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. Whether it was from the sentimental words or the devious nature behind them, he wasn’t sure. He wrapped his arms around Sam as well, pulling him close. 

“I love you, too, Sammy.” 

For six months, six whole months, Sam kept the little secret quiet. He would mention it to me from time to time. Ask me questions about lycanthropy in general or question me about whether or not I thought Dean and our Dad knew about it. I would always comfort him, tell him that I didn’t think they knew anything, and we would go about our day-to-day lives. 

Eventually, it got to a point where I was hounding him to tell Dean and Dad about it. Sam was hesitant at first. He was scared about how they would react. I was able to talk him through it, though, and, one night, he sat all of us down so he could tell us. 

The look on Dean and Dad’s faces? 

Pure confusion. 

And I thought it was the funniest thing at the time. 

I had to hold back my laughter as I watched my father deal with Sam and explain that he couldn't be a werewolf if he had not been bitten by one. Sam was in hysterics at that point. He was crying and sobbing and while our father was trying his best to comfort him, I was trying my best to keep it together. At that moment, I patted myself on the back for the longest-lasting prank. 

The celebration didn’t last long. When Sam told our father that I was the one who told him about it, he was furious. I swear, I saw his eyes turn red. I won’t go into too many details about my punishment, but it was one of the worst ones that I got. Even now, I don’t think that it was what I deserved. But it happened, and I can’t necessarily change it. 

I couldn’t sit down for a week. 

The punishment didn’t stop me from teasing Sam about it, but it was quick to make me stop when Sam told me he was going to tell Dad. Now that Dad’s dead, Sam doesn’t have anyone to tattle to. I can say whatever I want. 

Cut that damn hair, Sammy. You look like a werewolf. 

JANUARY 2010

We always had some type of celebration for our birthdays. When we got older, that is. Not all of them necessarily had a cake and presents, but they were celebrations nonetheless whether we acknowledged it or not. Whenever Dean has a birthday, his favorite place to go is at any local bar that we were closest to at the time. Sam and I would switch back and forth on who would be the designated driver so that the other one could celebrate properly with Dean. On Dean’s 31st birthday, I was the designated driver. 

And, man, was I glad I was. 

We were in Colorado after just finishing a hunt. It was a smaller bar near the far northeast corner of the state. It was a little busy, given it was a Sunday, but most of the clientele seemed to consist of regulars who would come in after their nine-to-five. I honestly couldn’t tell you what the theme of the bar was. The decoration scattered on the walls was a mix of historical pieces from the town we were in, rock 'n roll memorabilia, and different pieces from various Colorado sports teams. 

Dean was plastered, and Sam wasn’t too far behind him. It had been a while since I saw the two of them get that drunk, but we were under a lot of stress at the time. I was jealous that I wasn’t the one who was able to get drunk enough to forget, but I figured I would make up for it later. 

The bar began to shut down around one in the morning. The bartender had shouted for 'last call' half an hour before. I knew that I had to get Sam and Dean back to the motel before we got kicked out. It wasn’t that hard to find Sam, he had refused to leave his seat at the table the entire night. Trying to find Dean, on the other hand, reminded me of reading those ‘Where’s Waldo?’ books in the school library when I was younger. 

Let me tell you when I did find him…

Oh boy. 

(Y/N) sighed as he ran a hand down his face. His eyes drooped and he felt as if his body weighed a thousand pounds. After scouring the entire bar to find his brother for the past thirty minutes, he concluded that he deserved a bed for himself when they got back to the motel. Sam and Dean could share a bed, or sleep on the floor. He didn’t care. He just wanted to get back and go to sleep. 

(Y/N) walked back up to the table that the three brothers had shared. Sam sat in his seat, back slouched over, his head laid on the wooden surface. His mop of hair was brushed carelessly over his face. (Y/N) placed a hand on his back, leaning close to him. 

“Sammy,” he said, his voice low. Sam visibly jumped as he looked up at him with tired, glazed eyes. “Have you seen Dean?” 

“Um…” Sam trailed, voice slurred, and pursed his lips. “Dean…Dean…” Before he could continue, Sam broke into a weak fit of laughter, his shoulders shaking. “Dean sounds a lot like ‘bean’. He looks like a bean because he’s short.”  

(Y/N) pressed his lips together and patted Sam’s back. “He sure does, buddy. Thanks for the help.” He spoke sarcastically. 

He stood up straight and turned around, his back now facing Sam. He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around the almost empty bar. There were still a couple of regulars scattered around here and there, but most of them were clearing out. No sign of Dean, though. (Y/N) had to wonder how his brother could get lost in such a small place, but Dean had managed to do the impossible. Again. 

In front of him, (Y/N) could see the bartender from earlier. She had walked around the small U-shaped bar and was making her way towards him. Before she could get closer, (Y/N) shook his head. He held his hands up slightly. 

“I know you made 'last call' a while ago, and I’m sorry for staying, ma’am. I’m just trying to find my idiot brother.” He said with an apologetic tone. 

“Well, that was actually why I was coming over here.” She said and placed her hands on her hips. “There’s some guy in the back and I was wondering if he belonged to you.” 

(Y/N)’s shoulders slouched as he let out a sigh. “I am so sorry. I’ll pay for anything he broke or stole.” 

“No, he didn’t break or steal anything. He’s doing…something else.” 

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as an uneasy feeling began to make its way to his stomach. “What is he doing?” 

She gestured back towards the bar. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

Hesitantly, he gave a nod and followed the bartender. She took him around the bar and to the back. Past the saloon-style swinging doors, a couple of feet into the supply room, (Y/N) came face to face with a sight he would never be able to forget. 

Dean leaned against one of the many metal shelves. Even with something to lean on, his body swayed back and forth, indicating just how intoxicated he was. A goofy grin was present on his red face. One hand was balled into a fist and placed on his hip while the other one hung casually off of the shelf he leaned on. Beside him stood a mannequin, clad in an aged Colorado Rockies uniform paired with a baseball cap featuring the same team’s logo. (Y/N)’s jaw dropped. 

Dean was flirting with a mannequin. 

The bartender smirked. “He’s been back here for the last hour. I was going to kick him out, but I listened to how sweet he was being to Manny and I felt bad for him, so I just let him stay.” She nodded and leaned against the door, propping it open. 

“Manny?” (Y/N) questioned, not taking his eyes off of his brother. 

“Yeah. Manny the Mannequin. It’s this damn mannequin that the owner bought for twenty bucks when the local Sears closed down. He needed to put his stupid baseball outfit somewhere and he thought the best thing to do would be to put it on Manny and leave it in a bar. The regulars weren’t too nice to Manny, so we had to put him in the back here. It seems like your brother somehow snuck past me and found him.” 

“I…I am so sorry about this.” (Y/N) gestured to his brother, who had begun to fiddle with the hem of the Rockies shirt. 

The bartender snorted. “Trust me, this isn’t the worst thing a customer has done to poor Manny. Just get him out of here.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Right away,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

He stepped into the room just as the bartender turned and walked out. As he got closer, Dean began to giggle. 

“You know, you have the prettiest eyes. Has anyone ever told you that? Oh, come on, I bet a lot of people tell you that. They’re like…like, um…” Dean paused and stared down at the ground. 

(Y/N) quirked a brow and placed his hands on his hips. When he did, he felt the outline of his phone in his jeans pocket. A smirk made its way onto his face as he took out his phone. He knew that he could use this moment for entertainment purposes later. He began to record his brother as he cleared his throat. Dean jumped and turned to (Y/N), eyes wide.

“Hey, Dean. What’re you doing?” (Y/N) asked cautiously. 

A smile broke out on Dean’s face as soon as he recognized his brother’s voice. “Oh! (Y/N), I want you to meet someone,” he slurred as he wrapped an arm around Manny’s shoulders, pulling the mannequin closer to him. “This is Cozy. She’s…she’s the most beautiful woman here and we’re going to get married.” 

“Are you?” 

“Yeah! Isn’t that right, baby?” Dean giggled as he reached up and poked Manny’s nose. “She’s the love of my life.” 

“Well, I am so happy for you, Dean. She looks…beautiful.” (Y/N) was trying his hardest to keep from laughing. 

“Thank you.” Dean smiled proudly. 

“I think you’ve talked to Cozy enough for one day, though. I think we need to get back to the motel.” 

Dean frowned. “But I don’t wanna. I wanna stay with Cozy.” 

“I know, buddy,” (Y/N) walked over and placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “But Cozy has to go home, too. You can call her in the morning. Plus, we have pie back at the motel.” 

Dean gasped dramatically. “Pie?” 

“Yeah, pie,” (Y/N) pulled Dean away from the mannequin and wrapped an arm around his torso. 

“Pecan?” 

“Yes, Dean, pecan pie.” 

“Oh, (Y/N), you know, you’re the best brother a guy could have.” Dean leaned his head against (Y/N)’s shoulder as the two of them stumbled out of the back room and towards their table. Dean let out another gasp as soon as he saw Sam. He patted Sam sloppily on his shoulder. “Sammy! Sammy! I met a girl!” 

Sam groaned and lifted his head. He looked between (Y/N) and Dean, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not a girl! That’s your brother, stupid.” Sam grumbled. 

(Y/N) sighed and rolled his eyes. “Come on, guys. Let’s get back to the motel before you pass out on me.” 

There was no pie back at the motel. I just know that’s one of the only things that could get Dean’s attention. 

Thankfully, both of them waited until they were in the car to pass out. I had tried my hardest to wake them up, but they weren’t budging. In the end, they both slept in the backseat of the Impala while lying on top of one another. It seemed like it would be extremely uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t know. I was able to go back into the room and relax in my own bed, in a place that was peaceful and quiet. No snoring, no moving around, nothing. It was some of the best sleep I ever had. 

In the morning, when Dean and Sam woke up, they had to ruin my peaceful sleep by knocking on the door. They were a mess, both completely out of it and hungover. The smell of vomit stunk up the room so bad that I swear it’s still there if we were to go back and check. I got them painkillers, got them some water, and made sure they were nice and fed. When we were all sitting down and finally eating, I let them have it.

Oh, the teasing. 

So much teasing. 

I showed them both the video of Dean flirting with Manny. Dean grumbled and tried to get me to delete the video while Sam was trying his best not to laugh his ass off - he really couldn’t because of how bad his head probably hurt. Throughout our conversation, I swear, whenever I would look over at Dean, I could see his cheeks turn pink. I knew I had the perfect blackmail. 

I still have the video. 

You know, just in case. 

APRIL 2014

Everyone who knows Dean understands just how much of a serial flirt he is. If it breathes and if he finds it attractive, he will flirt with it (the story with Manny should make that pretty obvious). I, on the contrary, know how to flirt, but I don’t do it as often as he does. Sure, I flirt with people now and then to get my fix, but it’s not something that I do every time I go out. 

Sam, on the other hand, is the complete opposite of Dean. 

Sam was always the type to be awkward around people he found attractive, even when he was a kid. The number of times I would see him in the hallways of schools trying to talk to girls was hilarious, but he carried that awkwardness into adulthood. I admit, a couple of years ago, that boy had some moves. He knew all the right things to say and do to make anyone swoon for him. I was sort of jealous of him, and I could tell that Dean was proud of him, in a way. 

However, with how much has been going on the past couple of years, I’ve noticed that Sam has gotten a little rusty when it comes to flirting. There has been more than one occasion where he received a pretty nasty glare or a drink to the face followed by some rather colorful language. At first, I felt bad for him, but then it started getting funny. As he kept trying, the conversations he would have with people would last longer and longer than the last time. It still took him a while to leave with anyone, but baby steps. Baby steps. 

There was one time earlier this year when I thought he was going to get a happy ending. It was going so well! I had to admit that I had been spying on him throughout his interaction, just out of sheer curiosity. We were celebrating after a hunt in Arizona. Nothing too big, just a basic salt and burn with a basic bar afterward. It was Saturday and the bar seemed like it was packed. We were lucky to find a table. Thankfully we did because my feet had ached that night from all the digging. 

While I rested at the table, Dean went off to try and snag his own after-hunt reward while Sam walked over to the bar to chat up some cute brunette he had seen. The entire time, I entertained myself by watching him from a distance. Everything was going so well. 

Unfortunately, for Sam, he let his awkwardness get the best of him. 

“I swear, none of the good-lookin’ ones are single,” Dean grumbled as he took his seat back at the table, a defeated look on his face. 

“Maybe you should lower your standards?” (Y/N) shrugged as he took a sip of beer, his eyes glued to his younger brother across the bar. “I mean, they have to lower their standards to sleep with you, don’t they? It’s about time you do the same.” 

“Fuck you,” Dean scoffed a sipped his beer. 

“Sorry, not interested.” 

Dean rolled his eyes before he looked at (Y/N), noticing his gaze. He furrowed his brows. “The Hell are you looking at, anyway?” 

Dean turned his head to look in the same direction as (Y/N), shifting his head to look over people as he attempted to see what had grabbed his brother’s attention. (Y/N) licked his lips and smirked. 

“Looks like Sammy might get some tonight.” He said. 

“No shit? Where?” 

“At the far end of the bar. He’s talking to the babe in the blue dress.” 

Once Dean stopped moving his head, he was able to see Sam and the woman standing at the corner of the bar. Both of them were facing one another. The woman leaned up against the bar while Sam had his hands placed awkwardly in his pockets. Both of them had smiles on their faces as they talked. 

“Damn, she’s hot,” Dean mumbled. 

“I know, right? He needs to take his hands out of his pockets, though. He looks like a fucking shy middle-schooler asking his crush out to the dance.” 

“Eh,” Dean waved him off. “He always looks like that.” 

“Yeah, I know, and have you seen him leave with anyone recently?” 

“Point taken. So, what? You’ve just been watching this whole time?” 

“I need to keep myself entertained somehow. Not in the mood for a one-night-stand, so I have to make my own fun.” 

Dean gave a short nod before he continued to watch Sam. (Y/N) and Dean sat in silence as they watched Sam talk with the woman, mumbling back and forth to one another. As the two of them talked, Sam became visibly more comfortable. His movements became more animated and he pulled one of his hands out of his pockets. Both Dean and (Y/N) were practically sitting on the edge of their seats, their drinks completely forgotten about. 

After ten agonizing minutes of watching, it was clear that Sam had become completely relaxed. They continued to talk as the lively bar moved around them. It was almost as if no one existed but the two of them. They were so engrossed in their conversation that Sam neglected to see the serving tray full of beer that was sitting down on the bar next to them. Finally, Sam took his other hand out of his pocket. He moved to lean on the bar, but his elbow never touched the polished bartop. 

Instead, his elbow leaned against the edge of the serving tray, knocking it over. The tray and glasses clattered to the ground, sending glass particles across the floor. Beer splashed on himself and the woman he had been talking to, who had a look of horror across her face. 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as he quickly reached over and grabbed Dean’s arm. His jaw dropped and he immediately felt the laughter bubble up inside of his chest. He covered his mouth with his other hand and turned towards Dean. Dean snorted and turned his body so that he was facing (Y/N), his own eyes wide and hand covering his mouth as well. Both Dean and (Y/N) shook as they tried to contain the laughter. 

They sat there, attempting to hide their amusement as Sam walked back over to the table, a defeated look on his face. He sat down, grabbed the beer that he had once forgotten about, and took a long swig. When he saw Dean and (Y/N) practically doubled over, he raised a brow. 

“What’re you two laughing at?” He asked as a small smirk played on the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) turned away from Dean, pressing his lips together as he placed both of his hands on his beer. His gaze averted to the table, unable to look at Sam without laughing. He shook his head. 

“Nothing…” he spoke in a broken, high-pitched voice. “Nothing, nothing. You wouldn’t get it.” He waved off and took a drink. 

Sam looked towards Dean, who took a drink as well. “Yeah, you wouldn’t get it,” he paused. “Just like you didn’t get that chick’s number.” 

(Y/N) snorted as he let out a laugh, his shoulders bouncing. Sam’s smirk vanished and was replaced with a deep frown. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he slammed his cup down on the table and stood. 

“Real mature, you guys,” he grumbled, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. 

“Oh, come on, Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. “You almost had her!” 

Sam rolled his eyes as he put his arms into his jacket sleeves. “Hey, Sammy, look on the bright side!” (Y/N) began. “At least you were able to get her wet somehow.” 

(Y/N) howled and slapped his hand on the table, Dean following suit. One of (Y/N)'s arms was curled against his stomach as he leaned forward. Sam glared at him. 

“I’m going back to the motel.” He growled out before he turned sharply and walked away before Dean or (Y/N) could say anything. 

By the time (Y/N) and Dean were done laughing, tears were rolling down their faces and their cheeks were bright red. Dean used his thumb and index finger to wipe away the tears while (Y/N) used the collar of his shirt. Once they were both settled, they leaned back in their seats. Dean shook his head. 

“We really need to get that kid a hooker or something,” He finally said. 

“I second that,” (Y/N) nodded and raised his glass. 

Dean raised his glass as well before they both drank. 

Sam didn’t talk to us for the rest of the night. He didn’t talk to us for the next couple of days until we got back to the bunker. Dean and I would try to get him to talk to us about something, anything, even the nerdy shit that he’s into, but he wouldn’t budge. On the drive back, he was wearing his headphones the entire time, so that whenever Dean or I would try to talk to him, he had some type of excuse as to why he didn’t talk to us. 

Little asshole. 

Wish I had headphones that I could just pop in to ignore the two of them. 

Maybe I’ll pick some up? 

Of course, I felt bad for the kid. He looked like he was having a good time, but you should have seen the look on the woman’s face when the beer spilled all over her. It was priceless! I had wished I held it together long enough to be able to see what had happened afterward, but if the look on her face had any correlation with her reaction, it probably wasn’t a good one. 

Don’t feel too bad for the kid, though, he got laid a couple of months ago. He’s fine, basically back to normal. 

Still, Dean and I like to bring it up occasionally. Sam has stopped getting so angry about it and has just resorted to rolling his eyes and ignoring us. One of these days, he’s going to get the balls to use one of our embarrassing pick-up attempts against us to shut us up. 

God knows he probably has more instances of us than we do of him.

 

OCTOBER 2014

Jesus, my wrist hurts. Do people normally write this much in their journals? Certainly not at once, right? I have to be setting a new World Record. I wonder if there’s a world record for something like this? I’ll need to look it up later. 

Trust me, though, I have yet to scratch the surface of the embarrassing memories I have of my two brothers. These are just my favorite ones. If they decide to read this, I hope the two of you enjoyed going down memory lane! Maybe you’ll learn not to look at other people’s shit? 

Who am I kidding, of course you won’t. 

I’ll need to hide this somewhere else. Maybe my closet? Maybe in one of my bags? I can’t even think of a place where they won’t eventually find it. Whatever, I’ll hide it in the back of my closet and see where that gets me. 

The bunker door just opened. Sounds like Sam and Dean are back from the supply run. I’ll need to make this short and simple so I can help them put the groceries away before they start bitching at me. 

Until next time,

Stay safe. (That STILL sounds bad. God, I’m terrible at ending these things.)

[potionsprefect]

As A Thank You

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 765

Summary: Victoria buys Ethan some special presents

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Fluff

The laptop balanced perfectly on Victoria’s very large belly as she looked on multiple tabs. She had been thinking about this for a while and had decided to do it.

Ethan had been so supportive and loving since they found out Victoria was pregnant. And they were even more excited when they discovered it was twins. Victoria wanted to buy him something as a thank you over the last nine months.

She thought about the things he liked and what he would appreciate, Ethan had become more sentimental since being with Victoria and was much more romantic.

The first thing that came to her mind was a bottle of scotch. Victoria found a website that personalised bottles and she thought it would be a great gift for Ethan. He could keep the bottle afterwards as a reminder. Victoria had added the gift to her basket, a big smile on her face.

“What’s made you so happy?” Ethan said walking into the living room.

“I’m allowed to be happy. We’re expecting not one but two babies.” Victoria laughed.

“Some would say that would terrify them.” Ethan sat down beside her.

“It would to anyone I think. But then it’s replaced with excitement.”

Ethan rested his head against Victoria’s stomach as she quickly shut the laptop and placed it beside her. Victoria loved it when his eyes lit up every time the babies kicked. He couldn’t wait to become a Dad.

“I laid out my paternity leave decision today. And it’s been approved.” Ethan said.

“That’s great! So you’ll be with us till January?” Victoria smiled.

Ethan sat up and put an arm round Victoria. “I will. And there are strict rules not to contact me unless the hospital is on fire.”

“That’s a good one. Hopefully Leland listens.” Victoria replied.

“Something tells me he won’t. So if he calls me at any point for any matter that does not require my input, I shall not hold back on my words.” Ethan said.

“I look forward to hearing you down the phone.” Victoria grinned.

“Hopefully I won’t have to.”

“You’re Ethan Ramsey. Everyone wants you for something. Trivial or not.” Victoria shrugged.

“Well for the next few months they’re not going to get me. The only people that will get my attention are my wife and two children.”

“That’s the right answer.”

Victoria placed the items in a bag with a smile on her face. She couldn’t wait to see Ethan’s face when she showed him the items she has bought for him.

She headed down the stairs, stopping in front of the doorway to the living room, watching Ethan stare at their twins with adoration.

“It gets better the longer you stare at them.” Victoria smiled sitting down beside Ethan.

“I don’t ever want to take my eyes off them.” Ethan said.

“I feel the same. I have something for you.” Victoria placed the bag on her lap.

“I think it’s meant to be me that’s spoiling you instead of the other way round.” Ethan chuckled.

“I know but I wanted to spoil you. I think you deserve to be treated as well.” Victoria said.

“I won’t argue with that.” Ethan reached inside the bag. He pulled out the bottle of scotch, an eyebrow raised. “Very original.”

“It was the first thing I thought of.” Victoria laughed. “You’re too easy like that.”

Ethan pulled out a two items wrapped in pink and blue tissue paper. He tore the paper off. Underneath were photo frames of Ethan holding the twins. Victoria could see small tears in his eyes as he ran a gentle thumb over the photos.

“When were these taken?” Ethan asked.

“I took them over the last few days. I sent them to Sarah who edited them to make them look professional. She said she would do some more for us if we wanted.” Victoria replied.

“That sounds like a good idea. We can never have too many photos. And this.” Ethan picked up the bottle of scotch. “Is going somewhere safe.”

Victoria picked up the photo frames and placed them on the mantelpiece. She smiled at the love that radiated from the photos.

Ethan wrapped his arms around Victoria. “We’ll have many more to put there over the years. Thank you for those presents.”

“You’re welcome. I love our new life.” Victoria smiled.

“Me too.”

Victoria was glad Ethan liked the presents. He deserved to be spoilt for all the help and support he had given Victoria over the last few months.

She couldn’t wait to spoil him for the rest of his life.

Tag list: @ohchoices @swiftiexstarwarssimp @queencarb @genevievemd @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @gryffindordaughterofathena @sophxwithers @romewritingshop @coffeeheartaddict2 @mm2305 @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @nishas-paradise @replayfootsteps @mainstreetreader @lsvdw-blog @kiara-36 @quixoticdreamer16 @udishaman @headoverheelsforramsey @shanzay44 @itsjustamesshonestly @josiesopenheart @mysticalgalaxysstuff @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @kachrisberry @rookiemartin @jamespotterthefirst @a-crepusculo @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @wanderingamongthewildflowers @rosebudde @lucy-268 @liaromancewriter @bex-la-get @writer-ish @toadfrog26 @tessa-liam @peonierose @cariantha @kyra75 @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[desultory-novice]

Another Lightning Round!

This time, we're answering:

-Borb Feet -Shadow Dedede and The Mirror World's Dream Fountain -Kirby Royalty -Soul of Kirby?! -Forgiving the "unforgivable" Dream Friends (a lo~ng post for an old ask!)

Hee hee! I'll tell you what, anon, at first, I wasn't sure how to take this comment (something I mentioned on stream) because getting good at drawing feet on the internet is... well...you know!

But given I myself started this by pointing out how bad I was at it with Galacta Knight, I really do appreciate the compliment! Next on my list.... borb hands. I've seen so many people draw Kirby's n-nubs (?) in ways that really make them look so marshmallow-y and fun!

-

Hello?! That idea of the Star Rod never getting repaired after Shadow Dedede broke it?! Fantastic! Imagine it drying up, and of course, the effects something like that would have on the mirror world!

(Has anyone else stumbled across that gorgeous but haunting series of "bad end" pictures a certain Kirby fan artist did on Twitter? I remember one had Dedede with a dried up Dream Fountain. That's very much what I'm visualizing here!)

Now, I vague~ly recall that there's some debate about the "darkness in his heart" part of the Shadow Dedede pause screen?  That the English version says it is Shadow Dedede who has to overcome his darkness whereas in the original, it is OUR Dedede who has to overcome his "shadow" that being Shadow Dedede.

...But just because it isn't saying that Shadow Dedede is trying to overcome something doesn't mean he doesn't represent a painful mark in both Dedede's histories. And such a "mistake" (unknown at the time) is an excellent possibility!

Lastly, thank you! The steady influx of lore and theories everyone drops into my inbox reminds me of my favorite parts of fandom in the old days and is a major treat!

-

This is NEAT! While they may not have known about each other in the past, you bring up a great point that after so many games, these various planets (dimensions? in the case of Fluff) are forging bonds with each other. Everyone likes the Galactic Star Alliance from the anime, right? What's interesting is that we kind of have a basis for such an "alliance" forming in our current Kirby-game verse!

Kirby has helped these monarchs get in contact with each other, becoming a link across multiple planets. So I think the idea of them getting together and talking now, in the present~post-game of Forgotten Land is a possibility! Let each other know if any suspicious activity is happening or if everyone is still doing all right.

Although that reminds me of something that came up in the stream... Since King Dedede is the "self-proclaimed" ruler of Dream Land... is there an ACTUAL ruler of Dream Land/Popstar waiting in the wings? Waiting for their return? Or sealed away even? (D-Dark Nebula, is that you?)

Either way, a meeting between those 5 sounds both intense and fun! I would love to come back to this idea with a sketch or illustration of some kind!

-

I'm digging into the backlog for some of these. Also, I can't believe I never answered this one?! Sorry if this ask is too old even for you, @emeraldcoloredwinter

(I'm also sorry in case I did in fact answer it in the past and can't find it - because Tumblr's search is really unreliable. If I repeat myself here, I'm sorry. If not and this turns out to be relevant...great!)

Frankly, I would love to see all kinds of soul lore expanded upon in future games. Partly because I have my headcanons as to why Sectonia/Pres. Haltmann died for realz versus why Marx and Magolor came back and if we get more tidbits, I can come closer to completing my conspiracy corkboard!!

(As well as figure out just where Drawcia lays in the current state of "canon." And maybe figure out some stuff about Zero, Zero 2 and the Dark Matters and what happened to them!)

On the one hand, I feel like Void did a rea~lly bang up job at feeling like you were battling the soul of Kirby. Or at least "a Kirby." I mean, seeing Kirby's face appear on Void, with all those childish movement patterns and that smile before defeat?

But Void was also composed of a variety of thoughts and feelings, so it wasn't exactly our Kirby. Then we've got the Shadow Kirby battles in Kirby Fighters 2, which also come somewhat close in concept, as you're fighting someone with the same ability set as you. That would be another good way to do it, I think.

But it still doesn't quite scratch that itch, does it? ... Now, I feel silly that I can't remember if this is a real thing or I'm just combining a bunch of games in my head (I-I may be old but I'm decades away from the point where I should have to fear being senile!!) but watching some Castlevania longplays... there was a part of one of the games where you go through one of the old castles, right? Maybe it wasn't in black and white, but it is in my memories.

And Kirby had a part like that too, in one of the games! At least, I think it did...? (Okay, maybe I AM going senile...)

:cough: That aside, something like those visuals above when combined with the feelings evoked by the 8-bit nostalgia portion of Void Termina's The Star Conquering Traveler Suite...

I can only imagine it would be sad. Maybe it would involve some kind of sacrifice or some kind of origin story. A time-travel game even? Something that takes us back to our favorite hero's beginnings. Despite it inevitably being THE penultimate fight, I can't picture it being a big dramatic battle so much as one of those interactive cutscenes, or something with never-seen-before-now gameplay elements. But it would feel like a true goodbye to the Kirby series. Oh, it might be able to continue on past that, just like things didn't end after the Star Allies completion picture either.

...But expect a lot of fears (and tears!) of something happening when it finally did.

Personally, I can't help but think Kirby's Soul would look like Retro Kirby or Popopo from Twinkle Popo. It might not even be called "Kirby's Soul" but have a more archetypical name like "Soul of a Traveler" or "Soul of Youth." 

...Soul of the Spring Breeze.

-

Another super old one. Gah, me and my slowness... The sad thing is, I had nine~ty percent of this written out a while ago but just didn't know how to finish it. I'm so sorry about that, @vexx-ation !

It was a really good ask though and I'm glad I gave it another shot. Now then, I think that in large part, this would boil down to who was most harmed by those characters and in what ways!

-

[Dark Meta Knight]

Dark Meta Knight is the biggest mystery because... DMK refuses (or can't) talk to anyone so we know nothing about his feelings. And we don't even know how he returned the first time after death (?)

Meta Knight is the one DMK has arguably hurt the most (excluding maybe Kirby) but I feel like Meta Knight is also the one who needs nothing from DMK to understand forgive them. It really all depends on where Dark Meta Knight is coming from. Was DMK a willing agent in Dark Mind's takeover? Then Meta Knight would be more hard on/untrusting of his shadow for certain. But being his mirror counterpart, I think he would take it as a sign of something lacking in himself. That he is only one step away from making such a turn. But if you, like me, think that the placement of certain objects and events in Amazing Mirror (Radish Ruins as DMK's "stage" and Shadow Kirby showing up one last time before you face off against DMK) are indicative that something more subtle is going on, Meta Knight may not even require an apology from DMK at all. Either DMK was manipulated or was attempting to manipulate the situation in the Mirror World's favor. In which case Meta would just silently nod and go on with his day.

Then there's King Dedede, who, at least in his own parallel mode, was seemingly attacked at random by DMK. That certainly puts them off on a wrong start, but I also think that Dedede would be able to eventually laugh it off and compare it some of his Meta Knight's more belligerent actions in the past (something that would probably fluster Meta Knight, as he wouldn't expect that comparison, mirror counterpart or no.) IE: I find it hard to believe the guy with a wrestling ring in his castle would hold an ambush against somebody for long, especially as he won.

It would take Bandee probably a bit to come to terms with the scary version of someone he most likely respects, but DMK has his cute (?) side too (like in his idle animation) so I think Bandee could come to accept DMK, especially after both Meta Knight and Dedede express that they no longer hold any hard feelings toward the dark knight.

Kirby would probably be the closest thing to a "holdout" here, only because Dark Meta DID ambush two of his friends (depending on the timelines) and he'd want to know that's not going to happen again. Afterwards though? DMK's right to be a part of the group is never questioned again!

-

[Susie]

Susie... ahhh, Susie. Let's just note that all the classic Susie discourse disclaimers go here and remind everyone once more that they're on a Susie-friendly blog and to some of you, what I am going to say may come off as being exceptionally "light" on Susie's crimes. It is what it is, however. If you want a brutal takedown of Susie, there are dozens of other blogs who will give it, I am certain. I can only go in-depth on things from my view of my Kirby-verse.

In random order: Bandee was the only one to not be incapacitated for large chunks of Planet Robobot's story and I believe that were the game to be remade in the modern style (or even had it been released on more powerful hardware than the 3DS) Bandee would have been a second player character just like in Forgotten Land. And if we assume that of him, then we can assume Bandee would have been exposed to Susie's entire plotline same as Kirby.

Bandee is, at least in the novel-verse (and it's not a bad HC in general) the most empathetic member of the Dream Team. Bandee can sympathize with and care about just about anyone. And Bandee might have been wondering if there was something going on with Susie before even Kirby started to see the cracks in the secretary's facade of corporate perfection.

While Bandee wouldn't like the things she, her father, and the HWC have done to Popstar, I think that once he sees where she's come from, his own anger would be tempered down. That everything reverts at the end (ironic (?) that everything is almost "magically healed" except the Haltmann's shattered family bonds) would be enough of a relief for Bandee that I think he could move on to looking at Susie as just a person. (And isn't he the one in the novel who gives her the pocketwatch back or am I mis-remembering that?)

I actually think Susie "as a friend" could be more intimidating to Bandee that Susie as an enemy. She's a sympathetic enemy. As a friend, she might be a considered too "extra" for the small warrior Dee! XD

On that note...I don't know why, but in most cases, I just see King Dedede as being very forgiving toward people in trouble. Oh, he will grumble about it to no end! But I don't see him EVER hurting anyone while they're down.

Of course, Dedede was also unconscious for 99% of Planet Robobot. Was he even awake when his DNA was stolen? Does he know? I mean, not knowing wouldn't be great at all, but I can't help but think that more than being harvested and bottled, his biggest concern, just based on his priorities, would be that his castle got destroyed AGAIN. Why can't the poor man keep a castle?! He didn't even do anything this time!! (Even the Halberd made it!) So, yeah, imagine a confrontation with Susie and Dedede and Susie tries to imagine all the things Dedede is going to call her out for and no, he's just upset about his castle getting wrecked. Susie is surprised he even cares about that "dinky, dusty old thing" and thus, a shouting match begins.

But again, I don't think it would last for too long. I think the things Dedede and Susie would clash on would be petty things. Dedede is pretty manly in his interests and Susie is very girly. They're blue and pink, even. I think Dedede would forget or just plain ol' not care about Susie's more "human rights" crimes and make MOUNTAINS out of the little things. Although they do share a love of machinery, and that might be something that would bring peace to the VERY petty disagreements. At least until Susie chastises Dedede for using "old parts" while Dedede goes on an old man rant about how those old parts are three times as reliable as all this easy to break new stuff! (Dedede is the equivalent of the guy who put his first car together by hand. Susie is the "born plugged in" type.) So, yes, they fight, but not for the reasons you think. ^^;

...As for Meta Knight, I think countless paragraphs have already been written on these two and most people know where I fall about now. Meta Knight, whether we saw it happen on screen or not, was able to figure out what Susie's deal was faster than anyone else, and while he didn't care for having his autonomy stolen (not to mention, I can't imagine he liked all the bulk of his un-asked for cybernetic upgrades. Mecha Knight is a tank. A stark contrast to Meta Knight's fast "here and away" style.) But if anyone in the entire FRANCHISE understands that sometimes your morals take a backseat for your goals, it would be him and now that the dust has cleared and the HWC was on the losing side with Susie as it's sole survivor (speaking brutally) there's no reason to be angry with her anymore. That said, I believe that, much like happens in the fandom, Meta Knight probably gets questioned fairly often (by people who know) if he's upset at Susie, with some not believing its possible he wouldn't be. But I really think to him, it's just something that happens when you're pushed into a corner.

What Meta Knight would care about is not what Susie has done in her past (to him) but what she does now.

...That said, I think he will find an "excuse" to be somewhere else when she looks at him with stars in her eyes and a wrench in her hand. (I am a firm believer that the Star Allies scene is meant to be taken comically, not seriously. I have nothing against Mecha Knight unwanted modification angst but that scene should not be your sole "proof" such a thing exists.)

And of course, as for Kirby, Kirby has already accepted Susie. He ran to her side when she was injured. He agreed with her request to stop Star Dream, and he accepted her invader armor. There's nothing else to forgive. Acceptance is freely given.

Lastly...

-

[Marx]

Marx is the silly one. Very silly. I think, on my first draft of this post (I made the choice to write it again from scratch rather than base it on my previous version, so that it was up to date with my current feelings) I took the concept of Marx and forgiveness very seriously, but then I booted up Star Stacker (SNES) again and remembered that the story began because one day, Dedede saw a sparkling star flying through the sky and decided, "I'm gonna shoot it with a cannon!" So, in case this needs to be restated...

The people of Dream Land are absolutely buck wild.

Probably, due to the comparisons with his spiritual successor Magolor, there's been a casual attempt to try and make a bigger deal out of the "ship in a bottle" events of Milky Way Wishes.

I don't want to be a hypocrite here. I'm a huge fan of "Let's try to expand on Marx's backstory, personality, and motivations using every tiny scrap we've got" and I do so relatively shamelessly. I love the idea that there might have been buckets and buckets of angst and pathos behind his decision to trick Kirby into bringing Galactic Nova into Popstar's orbit so he could kick our beloved puffball into the darkness of space and wish to make the planet his own...

...but do I think that those acts in a vacuum are on the same scale as what all the other big, bad, last bosses have done?

Not really.

Well, not like the modern villains. Marx is a bit more like Dark Meta Knight or Daroach in the breadth of his bad guy-ness. His act harmed very few people in practice. It could have gone on to harm more eventually, had it succeeded. It might have even been devastating! Similar to if Dark Mind's reach was allowed to expand into the peaceful non-Mirror Popstar. Or if Dark Daroach went on to rule as the second coming of the Lord of the Netherworld!

But... it wasn't. The clown's dreams lasted only a few brief minutes. To the people on the surface, Nova exploding probably looked like no more than a shooting star. ("Everyone make a wish!")

...The only person Marx needs forgiveness from, then, is Kirby. And that is the story of several hundred different fanfics and fan theories and frankly, I enjoy all of them because the ~potential~ dynamic these two characters share is one of my favorite things in the series.

And, leaving the "middle" of that journey for we, the fan creators to come up with, I believe we can at least say that, in the end, the two seem to have made up successfully.

...Now, there's still the question of would the rest of the Dream Team LIKE Marx or forgive him upon hearing what he did! I think Meta Knight would be wary of him for a lot of reasons. He's unexpected and uncontrollable. He hopped in to attack the group during the Star Allies credit sequence. But Meta Knight also (in an alternate timeline) thought wishing on Galactic Nova for a ridiculously selfish wish was a perfectly sane thing to do so I gather he would have little issue with Marx's ambitions, if not his actions. And as for his attempted murder of Kirby, Meta Knight is :cough: also guilty of that so yeahhhh. Maybe he doesn't LOVE the jester's antics or even tolerate them, but he wouldn't decry them from a moral high ground...?

I personally love the idea that King Dedede is headache-inducingly familiar with Marx. I like the idea that Marx might have even gotten his title of "jester" thanks to King Dedede. According to the Dedede Encyclopedia entries on twitter, Dedede had no idea about Marx's attempted takeover of Popstar nor did he know about Marx's "true form." Thus, it's easy to imagine that to Dedede, Marx is nothing more than another cute, silly resident of Dream Land, like the Waddle Dees. He may even treat Marx with the same paternal kindness he gives the Waddle Dees. At least until Marx goes a step too far!

TLDR, I love the version of their relationship as implied in the Kirby Storybooks, where Marx is one of "those troublesome kids" who teams up with Kirby to play harmless pranks on Dedede. It's so crazy wholesome, something that you can't always say about Marx!

...Lastly, Bandee... Oh, empathetic little Bandee. I feel like Bandee would probably be the one to eye Marx the most critically. Because Bandee has eyes on the ground level to NOT be fooled like Dedede nor so extreme that he can't hold Marx accountable like Meta Knight. I think Bandee is probably the closest to Kirby in seeing Marx for who Marx really is, but doesn't have the "complex" relationship Kirby and Marx does that inspires Kirby to forgive him no matter what he does.

Not that I think they fight or don't get along, necessarily. (In fact, the sudden spike (?) in MarDee - am I spelling that right? - shippers has rekindled my interesting in their dynamic) But I do think that while Marx is giving everyone his "Who? Meeee?" eyes, Bandee is off on the side giving Marx a narrow-eyed look of "You don't fool me."

But again, I think that honesty may be something that could turn into a kind of closeness they don't have with others! Plus, biased, but I also completely love, love, love the idea that the one Waddle Dee who is tired of being "just a Waddle Dee" and the one Noddy who is tired of being "just a Noddy" have an understanding that none of the naturally over-powered residents of Popstar can ever understand.

It's possible to write them as rivals or enemies. These two, quite frankly, could be very cool together in a variety of ways!

[wafflesinthe504]

Can I be him? (it’s all I’ve been thinking about)

March Fluff Monthly

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Chenford

Prompt Fill: Secret Drawer/Butterflies

Title from Can I be him by James Arthur

___________________________________________________________

Most times when Tim and Lucy’s shifts don’t match up Tim finds himself disappointed at the fact they won’t get to spend their down time with each other for the next few days, but today is an exception. So, unless the jewelry store that him and Angela are at get robbed and Lucy is needed on scene as a supervising officer the probability of him running into Lucy today is pretty low.

Tim and Lucy have been dating for just over three years now with a lot changing over those few years, professionally and personally.

 Lucy had been a UC detective for two years before deciding that she didn’t want to continue down that path and decided to go back to patrol while she figured her next move. It was only a few months before she decided to take the sergeant’s exam. As soon as she passed the exam Grey, now a captain, tapped her to become Watch Commander for patrol. Tim on the other hand was comfortable with staying as a sergeant despite multiple attempts from higher ups that he was being looked at for becoming the lieutenant over the metro division.

When it came to their personal lives, they both agreed to move in together to a new house since they knew they would need the extra space for expanding their family one day. Tamara decided to stay at the apartment even though they offered to let her move in with them since the apartment ended being closer to her job that she has now that she’s moved on from babysitting. When Lucy and Tim announced that Lucy was moving in with Tim, Celina asked if she thought Tamara would be open to having another roommate. Tamara ended up agreeing and now she and Celina are sharing the apartment. 

Tim is snapped out of his thoughts when he hears Angela call him over to the display she’s at.

“Hey, what do you think of these?” Angela says pointing to a silver tension ring with a cushion cut diamond.

“Uh, its fine but its not really the style that I’m looking for. I think that Lucy would appreciate something a little more unique.”

“Alright, so what do you have in mind?”

“Well, I’m actually having me and Lucy’s bands custom made. Hers is going to be a rose gold band that looks like an actual rose and well I know a guy so it seemed easier than trying to come here to-“

“Wait, you’re having you and Lucy’s ring custom made?” Angela says cutting off Tim in surprise.

“Yeah, why? Wait do you think that’s too much?” Tim says worry etched all over his face.

“No, no.” She says quickly waving off Tim’s worry. “I think that’s incredibly thoughtful and amazing, but Tim if you’re having you’re rings custom made why are we here?”

“Well, I do still need a diamond to go in Lucy’s band and I need to figure what type of cut I want so I can give it to my guy so he can create the right shape on the band and inlay the diamond. I was thinking of a cushion or round cut but I’m open to other cuts.”

“When did you learn so much about diamond cuts and shapes?”

“Ang, I think you’ve forgotten that I was married before and I helped you and my sister during your weddings. A process that included a lot of looking at and talking about wedding bands and diamonds and everything else in- between.”

“Good point.” Angela spots a display showcasing the different types of diamond cuts and what they look like on different ring designs. “Hey what do you think of these?” She asks leading Tim over to display.

In the display there are a variety of diamonds in different cuts and colors. Tim scans the case until his eyes fall onto a one and a half carat green round cut diamond. Originally, he hadn’t considered getting anything but a regular clear diamond the Lucy’s ring but now that he’s seen this diamond he knows it’s the right one for Lucy.

“So, that’s the one huh?” Angela says over Tim’s shoulder. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is. You think Lucy will like it?”

“Tim you could probably propose to Lucy with a ring pop and she would like it, but to answer your question I think she would love this Tim. 100% percent without a doubt. Now the real question is how much does it cost?”

“I’ve been saving up for a ring for over a year now. As long as it doesn’t cost as much as my truck I should be able to afford it.”

“Okay, then. I’ll go get one of the sales guys let’s get your girl a proper diamond.”

After Angela brings the sales representative over to where Tim is still standing at the display it only takes a few minutes for Tim to finalize the sale of the diamond. On their way out of the jewelry store Tim thanks Angela for coming with him.

“No problem as much as I love my boys I needed a break from them. I’m really happy Wesley has weekends off and was able to watch the boys today. What do you think about picking up some lunch before you drop me off?”

“Okay, as long as you don’t interrogate me about my plans for the proposal.”

Angela laughs. “No promises there, but I’ll pay for lunch.”

“Deal.”

_______________________________

Nearly a month after Tim ordered the rings he’s finally ready to propose to Lucy. The rings had come in a week ago and have been sitting in a secret drawer in his desk at home for the time being. Since then with the help of Angela, Tamara, and Wade he’s been preparing for the proposal. Most of the help came in the form of hiding away certain decorations at their houses and asking them for help with refining any ideas that he had. 

Now him and Tamara are setting up the backyard with string lights, rose petals, and candles as quickly as they can before Lucy arrives back home from her girl’s day out with Angela, Nyla, and a couple of friends from UC school. Tim decides to add a couple of blankets on the lounge chairs just in case him and Lucy end up enjoying the night spring weather cuddled in each other’s arms. As Tim is putting on some of the finishing touches on the backyard he sees Tamara putting Kojo in a grey hoodie and placing a green bow tie around Kojo’s neck.

“Now that is one handsome dog.” Tamara says as she pets Kojo.

“Yes, he is. Let’s just hope that he doesn’t try to eat his bow tie before Lucy gets here.”

Tim and Tamara’s phones both ding. Tamara takes her phone out first and looks at the text message.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s something we’re going to have to worry about Angela just texted. They’re only fifteen minutes away. Which means you need to hurry up and go change.” Tamara says as she gestures toward the t-shirt and sweatpants that Tim is wearing.

“Sh*t, you’re right. Okay, so how does the backyard look? Do you think Lucy is going to like?” Tim asks, the words practically flying out of his mouth as he the fact that he’s about to propose to Lucy Chen sinks in.

“Tim the backyard looks great and Lucy is going to love everything about this okay. I’m pretty sure she’s shown me the same Pinterest idea boards as you so trust me when I say she is going to be amazed so take a deep breath and relax. Remember all of this was technically the hard part, now all you have to do is ask Lucy to marry you.”

“Right, all I have to do is ask her to marry me. Four simple words. I’m going to change what are you going to do?”

“Probably sit down for a few minutes, order some food, and watch TV. Now go before you’re stuck proposing in sweats.” Tamara says, shooing Tim away. 

Tim rushes to his room and quickly changes into a green dress shirt, a black bow tie and black pants. He gives himself a quick look over in his mirror, running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to calm his nerves.

He’s excited and nervous at the same time and he can feel a serious bout of butterflies fluttering in his stomach and chest. He can’t believe that he’s about to ask Lucy to marry him, to finally start the rest of their lives together.

Tim looks at Lucy’s favorite green dress that’s laying on their bed with a note next to it telling her to put it on before coming outside to the back yard. He takes one last look at himself before going to his office to pick up the rings. He goes over to Kojo and places the silicone rings in the pocket of Kojo’s hoodie before he heads back out to the back yard to wait for Lucy.

Tim unconsciously flips the ring box open and close as he waits for Lucy to arrive back with Angela and Nyla. It’s only a few minutes later when he hears Angela’s car pull up to the driveway. Even though he can’t make out what the three women are saying as they say their goodbyes to each other he feels his body relax as listens to Lucy’s voice. The nerves he felt earlier begin to melt away because even though taking this step again is terrifying, he knows without a shadow of doubt that him and Lucy are made for each other. There are butterflies still in his stomach but this time it’s only due to the anticipation of seeing Lucy being able to hold her in his arms again because she’s been his home for a while now and he can’t see his life without her in it.

When Tim sees Lucy start to walk outside, he shoves the ring in his back pocket before standing up from his seat and meeting her at the doorway.

“Wow, you look amazing.” Tim says breathlessly as he takes in Lucy’s simple beauty in the green dress.

Lucy blushes and brushes a 

how as your day out?” Tim asks as he takes Lucy hand in his leading her over to the middle of the back yard.

“It was great. Angela, Nyla, and I had a great time today. I think we all needed some time out together away from work. By the way everything looks amazing when did you have time do all of this?” Lucy says excitedly as she looks around at all of the decorations in the backyard.

“Uh, Tamara and I decorated everything while you were out. I really wanted to surprise you for tonight.”

“Well consider me surprised. So, what’s the special occasion?”

“We are actually.” Tim takes Lucy’s hand and kneels down on one knee. He hears Lucy’s gasp of surprise and sees tears spring to her eyes when he meets her gaze. Tim takes a deep breath to steady his nerves before he speaks. “Lucy Chen, every day that I’ve known you, you have helped to make become a better man. I know that this is where you usually say that I put in the work, but it was you that gave me the continuous push I needed to start making real changes in my life. You became someone that I knew I could lean on and trust with even my deepest fears and worries and every day you accepted me for who I was and helped me become the man I am today. Soon you became the person I love more than anyone in the world and my home. Every single day I fall more in love with you, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. Lucy Chen, will you marry me?” Tim pulls the box from his pocket and opens it showcasing the emerald ring that lay inside.

By the time Tim finishes his speech Lucy is smiling despite the tears running down her face.

“Yes.”

“Yeah?” Tim says in slight disbelief.

“Yes, Tim I’ll marry you.”

Tim stands and wraps Lucy in his arms kissing her passionately. Tim reluctantly breaks the kiss to place the ring on Lucy’s finger. He gently wipes away Lucy’s happy tears and places a kiss on her cheek.

Tim hears clapping coming from the backyard door. When he looks up he sees Tamara, holding her phone with the recording light on, along with Kojo standing on the patio.

“That was the most beautiful proposal I’ve seen.”

“Isn’t this the only proposal you’ve seen?” Lucy asks, turning in Tim’s arms to look at Tamara.

“I would like to think the proposals I’ve seen in Tv shows and movies count as well.”

Tim snorts. “Yeah, okay fair enough. I’m guessing you captured everything on your phone?”

“Oh, yeah. I can’t wait to show everyone.”

“Well, do you think you can hold off on sending it to everyone for a few days. I think Tim and I would like a few days of being engaged without everyone calling and asking about details about our engagement and plans for our wedding.” Lucy says.

“Yeah, no problem. But hey if you want to use the video for your wedding I know just the guy to ask about editing it for you.”

“Thanks, T.”

The doorbell rings and Tim gets an alert on his phone. When he looks at his phone he sees a young delivery man standing outside with a few bags of food.

“It looks like your food arrived Tamara.”

“Yes, let me go it. And don’t worry I got enough tacos for all of us.” Tamara says as she rushes inside to pay for the food.

“Mmm, tacos do sound good right about now. Come on, let’s go inside before Tam eats everything.” Lucy says as she grabs Tim’s hand and begins to lead him inside.

“Oh, wait. There’s one more thing.” Tim says stopping Lucy from continuing. He calls Kojo over and stoops down to pet Kojo before reaching inside the dog’s hoodie and grabbing another ring box and hands it to Lucy. “Here, I know that we can’t exactly wear our normal engagement rings on the job so I thought this might be a good substitute for when we’re out in the field.” 

 When Lucy opens the box it reveals a rose gold silicone ring with a green stripe going around the middle.

“Tim this is perfect I love it. Also Kojo looks so cute dressed up in his little bow tie and hoodie. Whose idea was it to dress him up for tonight?” 

“I was originally only going to have him in the bow tie, but Tamara suggested we give him his own hoodie.”

Lucy laughs. “Of course she did. It was a really cute idea. Remind me to take some pictures of him before the night is over.”

“Okay, Luce.” Tim presses a gentle kiss to the top of Lucy’s head before letting her lead him inside with Kojo following behind them.

When they enter the kitchen Tamara already has all of the food and drinks laid out. Once Tamara notices them she starts to explain everything she got for everyone before they all settle in to eat. They end up eating in the living room and watching a movie together. After they finish eating and watching the movie together the three of them work together to clean up and put everything up. It’s only when Tamara takes Kojo out for his last walk of the night that Tim and Lucy are alone again.

Tim places his hands on Lucy’s waist as she wraps her arms around his shoulders as they stand in the kitchen.

“You know today is easily one of the best days I’ve ever had and I think its time we celebrate.” Lucy says.

“Yeah, and what did you have in mind?”

“Something that’s going to put all that fuel to good use and maybe make a mess of that suit while we’re at it.” Lucy says, pulling on Tim’s tie. 

Their celebrations starts off slow and sensual before turning hot and passionate. Lucy makes good on her promise to make a mess of Tim’s suit and well Tim makes a mess of Lucy in return.

It’s not until the late afternoon the next day that they leave the room. After a long hot shower to wash off the night Tim and Lucy get dressed in lounge clothes. Tim tackles breakfast while Lucy handles the morning laundry. Later on when they’re sitting down eating Tim’s breath is knocked out of him when he sees Lucy wearing her engagement ring. Even though he saw her wearing it yesterday after his accepted proposal seeing her wear it everyday solidifies that they really are going to spend forever with each other. He can’t wait to do forever with her.

______________________________________________________________

[here4kpopfics]

Leave The Door Open 3 | JJK

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Pairing: Jungkook x (f)reader

Genre: smut, fluff, humor, just straight up porn.

AU: established relationship

Wordcount: 7,020

Summary: Jungkook keeps buying toys to torture you with, but this time he bought one for you to use on him.

Warnings: Language. Just a whole lot of smut.   

Smut warnings: Explicit sex. Unprotected sex (Wrap it folks). Pet names (Sparkles, Baby, and Kookie are used an OBSCENE amount). Edging. Pegging. Oral (f & m receiving). Fingering. Light choking/breath play. Use of sex toys. Anal and anal play. Spanking. a lot of Biting. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation. Technically cum eating. Creampie. I’m sure there’s more. I’m tired.

Rating: M / 18+

AN: Here we are again. Where I say this wasn’t meant to happen. Part 2 was the final and I was happy. But @btsgotjams27 is a genuine menace to my brain and after three or four rewrites, here we fucking go again. This is straight up porn. There’s not a single moment where it isn’t. Read More right at the beginning so you know it’s smutty. Thank you @here2bbtstrash​​ for beta-reading my filth. and the gorgeous @classicseffects​ for the banner and divider. I do not deserve either of you in the slightest.

and as usual, please leave feedback. Either with a reblog or send me an ask. It’s greatly appreciated. 💜

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Jungkook after two weeks of celibacy was no joke.

Every time he comes back after one of Taehyung’s matches where he stupidly decides to be celibate, you think that maybe you’d be able to keep up with his intense stamina and filthy thoughts that he had planned over the course of fourteen days, but you were wrong. While he had all that pent up lust, he’d never leave you alone longer than two days without making you come. He was obsessed with your moans and the way your body felt in his hands as you fell apart for him. 

No matter how much either of you said no more, that you would try to do the two weeks without an orgasm with him, you’d only ever make it a day or two before his hands were back on you and he’d bring out a new toy he got for you. 

The most recent, however, was not for you. It was a few days after Taehyung had an apparently huge match, and you purposefully stayed away from Jungkook for the two weeks so he could focus on getting Tae ready, even going as far to stay with Jeongyeon for a bit. When he finally got back home Friday morning, he pounded on your door only to pound you against it once you let him in. 

You had sex with your boyfriend throughout the weekend, with moments of sleeping, eating, and a shower or two in between rounds. It wasn’t until later Sunday afternoon, when you were both sitting on your kitchen island surrounding a nearly empty pizza box, that he remembered his purchase. 

He hopped off the counter, your bed sheet still wrapped around his bottom half, and went to dig through his luggage he left by the door until he shouted in victory, scurrying back to you. You had just bitten into the last slice as he hopped back up, smiling at you, your legs crossed in a giant shirt you stole from him, a blanket underneath you to keep your bare bottom from touching the cold counter. You had no issue sitting without a blanket, but Jungkook had insisted he needed to protect his “favorite thing” from the cold surface.

“Why are you so smiley?” You ask cautiously. Any time he gets smiley, it’s because he found a toy to torture you with. “Kookie, I really don’t think I have it in me for more weird toys and experimentations of what my body can handle…”

“It’s not for you, Sparkles.” His grin grows wider, and there’s a glint of something dark in his eyes. Interesting.

“Oh? What is it, then? A cock ring? Pretty sure you can do that pretty well with just your hand without paying for a silicone rubber band. I’ve seen you do it.” You watch his face redden slightly as he shakes his head and puts the small box in front of you.

A-Play Vibe Beginner Plug

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “Do I finally?” You put the pizza back in the box, wiping your hands on whatever’s closest to you, it’s all going in the laundry later anyway, and crawl into his lap, cupping his face. 

“Do I finally get to play with you?” You whisper against his lips, a smile creeping across your face. He bites his bottom lip, toying with his lip ring, and nods slowly.

“I don’t know about fucking me, but…this could be a good start?” His face shows excitement, but his words sound worried, hesitant, and a little scared. His hands run up and down your outer thighs, squeezing your hips with every pass. 

“No, it’s okay babe. We don’t have to jump straight to that. We can start with this. We can go as slow as you want.” You card your fingers through his hair, grasping at the roots near the nape of his neck, and pull him into a deep kiss. 

You both relax into the little makeout session in the kitchen, his hands finding a way up under your shirt and smoothing across your back, before finding their way back down to your hips as you roll them against his growing erection. 

“When can we play?” You murmur against his cheek, kissing down to his neck.

You two had spoken about this a few different times. You didn’t think it was fair that he could play with your ass, but you still hadn’t played with his. And he never once denied wanting it. He had stated he was bisexual like you were, but had only bottomed twice, both being rather unpleasant experiences. And you knew he was a switch like you, but you were both perfectly okay with him being more dominant as your brain often turned to mush around him. 

But since that first conversation after you two made your relationship official, he had been cleaning himself out and prepping, just in case you decided to go for it, every time you two had sex. But tonight was different, tonight wasn’t an “if'', it was actually going to happen, and he was suddenly nervous.

“I just need to…to prep…first.” His hands still your hips, and you look back at him, slightly worried.

“Are you okay? Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah. I mean…I’m cleaned out and all that. Just…nervous. It's fine.” He softly chuckles, but he still sounds nervous.

“Wanna take a shower together? Help you relax?” You gently grab his face again, running a thumb across his lips. He smiles, kissing your thumb, and nods.

“Yes, please.”

You giggle, crawling off him and hopping off the counter with his help. You turn back to him, kissing him again after he hops down next to you. “This is gonna be fun.” You smile, taking off your shirt and tossing it on the counter, Jungkook doing the same with the bed sheet. 

You both head into the shower, bringing the toy in with you after cleaning it first, and confirming that he had charged it prior. 

“First, let’s just take a shower, okay? We’ll take it super slow, Kookie. I want this to be good for you.”

“Usually it’s me saying that…” His brows pinch together and you laugh as you turn on the shower, holding the shower head away from the both of you to ensure it’s a good temperature. Once you put it back up, you grab your shampoo, squeezing a good amount into your hand before turning around and prompting him to lower to your level. 

You both enjoyed this part. You did it often in your relationship, especially on days with multiple rounds. One of you would start to feel too dirty and it was off to the shower for you both. You felt this was the place you two were the most intimate and vulnerable with one another, way more than sex made you feel.

It’s the act of taking care of one another in ways outside of bed. And outside of buying things, cooking, cleaning, and other acts of service. Being completely naked in front of each other and helping to clean away both the physical and metaphorical dirt and grime from day to day life. You both loved it. Any excuse to shower together, you’d take it. You both even went as far as going through the store, sniffing each shampoo, conditioner, and body wash to find the three that you both liked and got a set for each apartment. 

Once you’ve both shampooed and conditioned each other's hair, giving him soft kisses in between, you reach for the body wash. You squeeze some out on the washcloth and make it sudsy before he holds out his arm for you, as per your routine. You wipe up and down his arm once before continuing across his chest to the other arm. You get so lost in the action of cleaning up your boyfriend, that you almost forget why you were in the shower to begin with.

Once you feel satisfied about getting all the soap on him, paying a little extra attention to his behind, you set the washcloth aside and let the showerhead wash the soap down his body, your hands following suit until they land on his abs. You lock eyes with his, silently whispering kiss. He complies, leaning down to grab the back of your neck and pulling you up to a loving kiss.

You smile, deepening the kiss as your hands trail down his abs, tracing around his pelvis, brushing your fingers over anything that isn’t where he wants you most. He whines into the kiss and you smile, wrapping your tongue around his, swallowing the moan he lets out as you finally grab his now fully erect cock. 

“Good?” You whisper softly, and he nods, kissing your nose. You give him one more quick kiss before dropping to your knees, hand pumping him slowly on your way down.

“Baby, please.” He whimpers as you kiss the tip of his cock.

“Shh, baby. Just relax and enjoy and I’ll take care of you, okay?” He nods again, hissing as you suddenly wrap your mouth around him and shove him as far back as you can until you're gagging.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s fucking perfect.” He bends forward a bit, hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you down farther on his cock. You give one tap to his thigh and he lets go, allowing you to pull off, breathing heavily as you both watch your saliva mixed with his precum string between him and your mouth. You look up at him, making sure he’s still okay before wrapping your hand around him again and lifting up so you can wrap your mouth around his balls while slowly pumping him. 

You don’t get to pay too much attention to his balls, though, when you feel him twitch in your hand. He’s close, which means although you said slow, you need to pick up the pace just a little bit. You give one last open mouth kiss to his balls and move down to kitten lick at the secret sweet spot between them and his hole for a second before finally getting to where you’ve been wanting to be most. You lay your tongue flat against his rim, adding the smallest pressure to gauge his reaction. 

He let out a hiss, tugging you away from him, muttering wait a few times. You back up on your knees, confused until you watch him turn away from you, lifting a leg and resting his foot on the seat in the shower and leaning forward, shoving his ass in your direction. “Is that better?” he quietly murmurs. 

“So much better, Kookie.” You sigh out a laugh, crawling back to him and massaging his ass, spreading his cheeks and bringing them back, watching him clench and unclench. 

You dive back in, licking a circle around his rim, causing him to moan out again as he presses his ass further against your tongue. So you go to work, adding more and more pressure, spitting on his hole before teasingly putting enough pressure to try to press your tongue past his muscle.

“More, baby. You can do more…” He muffles his moans in one of his arms and you pull away enough to slap his ass just once.

“Don’t you dare muffle those sounds, Kookie. I want to hear every sound you make, okay?”

“Okay. Sorry, baby.”

“You will be if you do it again,” you threaten, but you know you have no real dominance here. Maybe a little in this position, and for the situation he allowed you to be in, but not enough to enable punishment or anything he’s done to you in the past. You both know this, and yet he treats your threat like a real one.

You bring the lube out, shower still on, but it’s not enough to keep him comfortable. You add a little dollop to his hole, setting the lube aside for a moment, and begin adding pressure with your index finger. It eases in pretty easily as he allows his body to fully relax for you, teasingly tugging at his cock. You drop out a little more lube, adding your middle finger next. 

The sound he makes for you could only be described as what you’d like the sounds of heaven to be. He cries out, smacking the underside of his thigh, biting his bottom lip to focus on anything else other than the urge to come.

You’re having too much fun with this, slowly adding a third finger when you feel he’s ready.

“Fucking hell, Kookie, the day you let me fuck this little ass… You’re gonna be so full with me in you, baby. So fucking full. You’ll be begging for it.” 

“Mmph,” is the only sound he can make. Words no longer exist in his brain as he shoves his ass back, fucking himself on your fingers. 

“That’s so hot, Kookie. Keep going. Let me know when you want the plug.”

He waits all of five seconds before he strains out the words “I want it,” groaning as you pull your fingers out. You quickly reach for the plug and add a generous amount of lube to it. 

“Ready?” He nods his head furiously.

“Tsk tsk, Kookie. What’s that you’re always going on with me about? Using your words?” You bring your index finger back to his rim, pressing lightly. 

“Fuck, Sparkles. I’m ready. I want it. Put it in, please.” He sounds desperate and you love it.

“Now you know how I feel, teasing jerk,” you smirk, slowly easing the plug in, marveling how his ass easily swallows up the thickest part. 

The deep and scratchy whine he lets out is enough to make you want to come. You press the plug in a little further until it’s fully in except for the handle.

“All good, Kookie?” You rub your hand up and down his lower back, smiling as you watch him clench around the little toy. 

“Turn it on,” he mumbles and you turn off the shower, getting off your knees.

“Get on the bed and I might.” You decide to have a little fun while you have a little bit of control and give his cute ass another nice slap, making his hips buck forward, the plug pressing in deeper ever so slightly. 

You’ve never seen him move so fast, rushing past you and crawling onto the bed, sitting on his knees with his ass resting on his feet. You dry off quickly, exiting the bathroom with a smug grin on your face. 

“I could get used to this view. You, sitting there, waiting patiently for me with a plug in your ass. Waiting for me to do literally anything.” You crawl behind him, wrapping your arms around him and resting your chin on his shoulder. You reveal the little remote control in your hand and kiss his shoulder when he lets out a low moan. 

“You want me to turn it on, Kookie?” You kiss the shell of his ear and feel him shudder. 

“Please.” 

You nod, showing him as you press the power button. You barely hear the vibrations but you don’t need to to know it’s on. Jungkook’s posture straightens up and tenses. You can hear his breath catch in his throat as he leans back into your chest.

“You okay, Kookie? Less or leave it?”

His head lands on your shoulder, looking up at you with his adorable Bambi eyes struggling to stay open. 

“More…”

“Yeah? My Kookie wants more?” He nods, his hands gripping your shins on either side of him. You kiss his temple as you turn it up twice. “Fuck your hand, Kookie. Pretend it’s me your cock is pumping into.”

He obeys, rushing to wrap his hands around his cock, still wet from the shower and the amount of precum leaking from the tip that he smears down his cock before bucking his hips up into his hands. It’s not a perfect rhythm like it usually is, because every time he bucks up, he clenches around the plug, causing the vibrations to feel more intense. 

“Baby. I can’t. I can’t. I need to fuck you for real. Please. Please let me fuck your perfect tight cunt while this is vibrating in me. Please, baby. Fuck, I need to be inside you with this in me. Please.” His head, still resting on your shoulder, is turned toward your neck and every pleading word is whispered against your skin, making your core flutter. 

Before you can even decide on whether or not to give up control to him once again, he pulls himself off you and in one swift movement, flips over to pin you down on the bed, hovering on top of you. His lips return to your neck, marking you repeatedly, licking over marks from earlier in the day. 

“Let me fuck you, baby. Let me fill you with my cum while you vibrate the toy in my ass. Please? I want it. I need it.” 

Fuck this man and his begging voice that make you so goddamn weak. 

You pull his face away from your neck to bring to your lips. Kissing slow languid kisses, you reach down between you both to guide his cock to your entrance, barely giving him enough time to notice you easing the head in, allowing him to snap his hips into yours once he realizes he can. 

You both loudly groan at the stretch. You wrap your legs around his waist, pressing him further into you, and your arms around his shoulders, keeping his lips near yours at all times. 

“Fuck, I can’t do it slow for you, baby. I’m sorry.” He whimpers against your lips, pulling his hips back and slamming into you repeatedly, eventually finding a good pace, hips still faltering from the vibrations. 

“Fuck me, Kookie. Fill me up.” He growls against your lips in response, moving back down to your shoulder and biting down as he moves at an unrelenting pace. You’re sure the back of your thighs will be red or bruised from how hard he’s slamming his hips into you, but you don’t care, crying out his name repeatedly until your body is shaking as you come around him. Jungkook groans into your shoulder as your walls clench around him, urging him to fill you up with his cum. 

You grab the remote control next to you and turn off the vibrations as he collapses on top of you, letting both of you take a moment to remember how breathing works. After a few moments, he sits up, pulling himself out of you with a small hiss and using his thumb to shove the cum back inside, not letting any go to waste. 

He gazes across your body, admiring every inch of you. God you’re beautiful is murmured a few times before he catches your gaze on him, and you lock eyes for a moment. 

“How’re you feeling?” You ask, like you don’t know the answer. You can see it on his face. But you’re still shocked by the response. 

“Like you’re the only person for me.” He says it so softly, so kind, so full of love that you can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. 

“I love you.”

Both sets of eyes go wide. Yours full of panic, his indecipherable. Before you can backtrack or awkwardly add to the sentence, he’s back on top of you and his lips are on yours. 

This kiss is different. You’ve shared many types of kisses with your boyfriend of two months now. The desperate and needy kisses, the aftercare kisses, the reassuring ones, the random mid-conversation kisses, and the lazy half-asleep kisses, just to name a few. But this one? This one is unique. This is one that you both know will only ever happen a few times in your relationship, during specific moments like a wedding or having a child. This is a kiss of fully understanding each other and being on the same page about your feelings. This is a kiss saying a million words in one silent moment. This is a kiss of pure love.

It doesn’t last as long as either of you wish it would, but both of your lungs need air, so he pulls away first, pressing his forehead against yours, noses touching. His arm snakes around your back, gripping your waist and lifting your chest up to him slightly. 

“You love me?” You hum your response against his lips that now refuse to be away from yours for longer than two seconds. “Baby, Sparkles, y/n, I fucking love you so goddamn much. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” 

You both grin into the kiss, teeth clashing together before he moves down to the nook of your neck. Kissing your skin, whispering his love for you over and over, the fingers on your waist digging into your skin as if you’d disappear if he let go. 

After a few moments, you hear him mumbling into your neck. When you ask him to repeat he takes another second, placing another kiss where he’d previously marked, then lifts his face to yours. 

“Fuck me.”

You stare up at him, unsure of what to do next. 

“Are you sure? You just said you weren’t ready for that yet, Kookie.” He slowly nods, kissing your forehead. 

“I wasn’t earlier. Now it’s all I want. I want you to get that strapless toy out of your damn box and I want you to rail me until I fall apart for you.” He smiles through his words, leaning back down to your ear. “I want to fall apart for the woman I love. Will you let me?”

You have no idea where you got the strength, or if he just let you, but you push him off you to lay on his back as you straddle him, pinning his arms above his head. 

“I need you to tell me again that this is what you want. That you’re not doing it just because I said I love you. But because you actually want to me to fuck you.” Your eyes dart between his, checking for any sign of doubt. 

The smile you’re met with is enough to make your heart melt. 

“Y/n? This is what I want. It’s not because you love me. It’s because I love and trust you. I want you to fuck me like I just fucked you.” His voice is steady and you don’t see any glimmer of hesitation or fear in his eyes, just love. So you nod, giving him a quick kiss before hopping off him and grabbing the strapless dildo he had once been confused by. 

You take it to the bathroom to clean it up and grab the lube before sitting in front of him, tapping his thigh and prompting him to lift his legs and spread them for you. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, Jungkook, I swear. This view is…only for me,” you smirk, running a hand up his inner thigh, palming his cock once and moving down to the plug, pushing it a little further to make him wince. 

“Fuck yes, baby. Only for you.” He watches you play with the plug before slowly pulling it out, squirming and trying not to run away from your teasing. 

You grab the bullet vibrator, placing it inside the little slot on the dildo and try to line it up with your entrance. 

“Let me, baby,” he whispers, sitting up to bring your hips closer to him. He takes the toy out of your hand and teases your clit a little bit before fucking it into you all in one go. You groan out his name along with a few vulgar words until you’re both confident it’s secure, moving to scoot back to between his legs when he grabs your thighs. 

“What?” You look down at the beautiful face below you. Big Bambi eyes darting between you and the synthetic cock in front of him. 

“What, you wanna suck my cock, Kookie?” You push his hair out of his face, wrapping your fingers in his hair at the crown of his head. He nods, opening his mouth and laying his tongue flat. 

“Fuck, okay,” you whisper, letting him lead you further up to him so he can wrap his mouth around the dildo. You say nothing, just watch him in awe as he sucks like his life depends on it. 

You don’t even notice one of his hands sneaking between your legs to slip two fingers in against the toy, pulling it, and you, closer to him. You yell at the feeling and the sudden jolt forward, accidentally pressing the dildo further down his throat, taking him by surprise and gagging. 

You try to pull away to let him off you, but his free hand grips your thigh, keeping you in place, and his fingers tugging you closer from inside. You whimper, eyes locked on one another, asking him if he’s okay. He just blinks slowly and pushes himself closer to you, bobbing up and down slowly. It’s once he’s got the entire thing down his throat and his nose presses against your pelvis that he uses his thumb to find the power button and turn on the vibrations. 

“FUCK!” You try backing away again, but his grip on your thigh is too strong and his fingers inside of you are pressing the toy against the your g-spot, forcing you to fuck his throat as he gags, saliva dripping from his mouth. You lean down, both hands tangled in his hair now, trying to bring yourself down to him, but you can’t stop thrusting your hips as you feel yourself coming around his fingers and the pulsing toy.

He finally lets go of your thigh and removes his fingers from you, turning the toy off as well. You pull his hair, bringing him off your cock, and you’re almost ready to come again just from the big goofy grin on his face. He has tears streaming down his face, a little bit of snot from his nose, and saliva running down his chin as his tongue continues to hang out of his mouth.  

“I knew you liked licking the toys when they were covered in my cum, but I didn’t know you were that much of a cock slut,” you laugh, brushing his hair back as he nods at you, still a little out of it. 

“But you’re just a slut for my cock, right, Kookie? My perfect, beautiful boyfriend, desperate to shove his girlfriend’s cock down his tiny little throat, gagging until he’s crying?” He finally blinks and swallows, nodding slowly.

“Your cock slut, baby. Just for you. Please, fuck me, baby. I want your cock in me.”

“The shit that comes out of that dirty mouth, I swear to God, Kookie. Should get another cock to stuff in there while I fuck you,” you chuckle, pulling his head back again to kiss him. 

“I’ll look into a good one,” he rasps with a grin, laying back down as you back up, resting between his legs again, letting them rest on either side of you. 

You squeeze some lube over the dildo, making sure it’s properly covered before adding a little extra to his hole, stretching him a little more with your fingers first. You look up at him again for one last ask of permission. He grins, teeth playing with his lip ring, and you nod, silently laughing to yourself as you press the head against his waiting hole. He closes his eyes and leans back onto the bed. 

The moans that come from the man you just confessed your love to are music to your ears. If you could make them your ringtone, you would. If it could be your theme song, it would be. There’s no other sound like the sounds he makes because of the pleasure you give him. 

You take your time pushing it all the way in, having to make small thrusts every now and again and adding a little extra lube to make sure he’s comfortable. Your eyes keep darting between the strap easing in, his erection swelling, and the fucked out expression on his face. When his eyes open, meeting yours, that’s all you need to push forward and have your hips meet his ass, the strap fully inside. 

“Baby, it feels so good, please move. Fuck me. Don’t be gentle.” 

“You don’t want it to be gentle? You want it rough? Like you are with me?” You tease, using your hips to pull out of him ever so slowly, just leaving the tip inside. You lean over him, one hand intertwined with his to hold you up, the other sliding up his torso, scraping his abs and around his pecs before wrapping around his throat.

“You want me to ruin you like you ruin me every night, Kookie? Wanna be edged and denied orgasm after orgasm until you see stars and feel like you’re going to combust? Begging and crying to be allowed to come all over my cock? Is that what you want?”

He nods and you shake your head, gripping tighter. “Words, Kookie.”

“Yes. Fucking yes.”

“If you insist…” You trail off, feigning disinterest as you slam your hips back to his, thrusting the strap as deep and as hard as you can. The vibrations are barely noticeable now, something you disliked about the toy the first time you used it. Once it was in him, it was a lot lighter. But this time, you think it might actually come in handy in playing with him. 

You let go of his throat and his hand, sitting up straight to grab a pillow and lifting his hips to stuff it under him, giving you a much better angle. You grip his hips and just go for it, picking up the pace and making sure each thrust goes as far in as it can, rolling your hips to ensure it does each time. One of his hands reaches down for his cock, hoping to give himself some relief. You smirk, smacking his hand away.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Kookie. But you’re not coming yet. You let me know when you’re close though, alright?” He nods and you take that opportunity to spank him harder than before.

“Words,” you hiss after a specific thrust causes the vibrations to hit your clit.

“I’ll tell you when I’m close, baby. I- fuck, I promise.” 

“Good. Fuck, Kookie, I wish you could see- ” You stop mid-sentence and look around your room, thrusts continuing, but at a slower pace, until you land on it. “Hold on, babe.” You pull out of him, not even trying to hide the smile you make when he cries out.

You hop off the bed, scurrying towards your full length mirror, dragging it to be at the foot of your bed. You tap Jungkook’s leg, telling him to move so you can lean against the headboard. 

“Ride me. Face the mirror, ride me, and watch my cock fill you up, Kookie.” 

He looks somewhat hesitant, not sure if he could actually ride you or not, but you look so gorgeous, sitting there waiting for him, he has no real choice but to crawl back onto the bed. He rests his feet flat next to your knees and his hands on the bed beside you, leaning back so he can see himself position above you. You apply a little more lube to the dildo and help him ease it back in, making sure he was watching the entire time.

“Fuck, did you see, Kookie? Did you see your ass swallow it up?”

“Yes, I saw,” he mutters in between pants. He leans his head back onto your shoulder like he did earlier when it was just the plug, and you kiss his temple.

“Get to work, baby. Watch as you fuck yourself on my cock.” He whines, lifting his head back up to keep his eyes on the mirror as he slowly lifts above you before slamming back down over and over again, his rhythm getting better and better, driving the both of you insane. 

“Ugh, fuck, I’m close, baby. I’m close.”

You almost forget he’s watching you both in the mirror, so he doesn’t miss the sinister smile you have at the warning of his incoming orgasm. His face drops a little. He knows what you’re about to say. 

“Do it, Kookie. Be a good boy and stop your orgasm. But don’t you dare stop fucking yourself.” You grin at him through the mirror and he looks down at his cock, leaking precum and ready to burst. He mumbles various curse words as he begins the process, wrapping his index finger and thumb around the base. He moves his other hand down to grasp his balls, but you reach around to wrap your hand around his throat, making him stop all movements.

“Did I say to stop watching yourself?”

He lets out a whine of frustration, catching his breath before he resumes, eyes locked on his actions in the mirror. You’ve watched him edge himself a few times now, and every time you swear it’s the hottest thing you’d ever seen. But this? Him riding you with your hand around his throat, watching in the mirror while edging himself? That is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Such a good boy, Kookie. You’re doing so well.” 

You’re not sure if he can even hear you, but you assume he did because you can faintly hear him mumble “I’m a good boy” under his breath. 

You watch him, too focused on denying himself to acknowledge your hand slipping under him, finding the button to increase the vibration and pressing it twice the second you hear the groan confirming he stopped his orgasm. 

“Uhhhggguuuuuhhhhh. Baby, please. I can’t.” He’s crying, his breath ragged, his body shaking, and you decide to finally be nice. 

“Stand up, Kookie,” you murmur, raking your hand in his hair again, tugging it a little to make him moan. He leans forward, whimpering as he lets the strap slip out of him, and slowly moves to stand up. You turn off the toy, pulling it out of you, briefly admiring both your cum and arousal mixed with his cum from earlier covering it. You toss it aside and crawl across the bed, sitting in front of him as he desperately tries not to touch himself since he technically hasn’t been told he could yet.

“You have two options, Kookie. You can only come inside me, either like you usually do or my mouth. Which do you want, baby?” 

You keep your eyes trained on him, but your peripheral tells you he’s having a hard time not touching himself, so you relieve him of that frustration, slowly pumping him while he considers his options.

“Mouth.”

“Yeah? Wanna come down my throat?” You grin up at him, starting to move off the bed when he stops you.

“Lay on your back, head over the edge.” You raise an eyebrow up at him.

“My fun over now?” You pout, doing as he says anyway. He nods, brows pinched together, taking over for your hand on his cock. 

You lay back, dangle your head over the edge, and open your mouth wide. He lets his suffering erection smack against your face once or twice before he shoves his dick down your throat, too impatient to care about your gag reflex. But you don’t mind, you steady your breathing through your nose and let him abuse your throat with small but deadly thrusts. It’s not even a full minute later before he growls under his breath that he’s coming and two seconds later, buries his cock as far down your throat as you can take it. He comes like he hasn’t in weeks, coating your throat in the delicious bitter taste. 

He pulls out and slumps forward onto the bed, exhausted. You smile, sitting up and rubbing his back, clearing your throat a few times before speaking in a raspy voice.

“You okay, babe? Too much?” He rolls over, turning his head to face you and softly smiles. 

“No, baby. It was perfect.” You grin, moving some of his hair out of his face. “I love you.” 

“Mmmm. I guess I love you, too,” you chuckle and his nose scrunches up. “I’m going to clean myself up really quick. Wanna take a bath after? I’ve got some bath bombs and bubble bars from Lush. Even a melt thing. I’m not really sure what it is, but it looked cool.” You both laugh, but he nods and whispers a ‘yes please’ before closing his eyes, trying to relax. You lean over and kiss his cheek, hopping off the bed and heading into the bathroom to clean up.

Jungkook is almost fully asleep when you emerge from the bathroom and whisper in his ear that it’s time to get up. You come out with a wet towel and offer to help clean him up, but he says no and quickly does it himself before following you into the bathroom where his mouth drops.

There are candles carefully placed everywhere, one of those mood lights dimly lit, and there’s soft music playing in the background.

“What the…?” He looks around in confusion, jumping slightly when your hands meet his waist and your voice is near his ear.

“You always do the aftercare after ruining me. My turn. Let me take care of you, Jungkook.” He turns to face you, and you’re grinning ear to ear, arms wrapped around him, standing on your tippy toes. 

“Okay. Aftercare it up, baby.” He kisses your forehead when you return to normal height and watches as you skip to the bathtub, turning it on and finding the right temperature, letting it fill up. 

“I got these as a joke for me. But since you let me have fun with you today, I think you deserve them more.” You break out a bath melt and toss it into the tub, not really knowing if you were supposed to do anything else. It’s not important. You break out the bath bomb shaped like a butt shaped peach and let him smell it first before dropping it in. Finally you break out the peach crumble bubble bath, once again letting him sniff it before tossing it in under the water faucet. 

You both watch as the colors swirl around, the melt completely melted, and the bubbles growing bigger, covering the beautiful colors from the bath bomb. You turn off the water and help Jungkook get in first, slipping in behind him once he’s a little settled. 

“Shouldn’t it be the other way?” He laughs as you pull him back against your chest, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

“No. You’re the one being cared for, therefore I’m the big spoon. Accept my loving care and stop asking questions.”

It’s silent for a moment before you’re both giggling. He winces a little when he tries to find a better seat, deciding instead to roll over and tug you down a little. It’s only enough that your head and the top half of your breasts are above the water. He maneuvers you both around until he’s found a more comfortable spot on his stomach, resting his head on your chest near your shoulder, facing your neck.  

“Better?” You rake your fingers through his hair again, silently thanking whatever gods exist for him not cutting it since you got together. You love grabbing it and playing with it, and he just looks so damn good with long hair. He nods into your neck, kissing whatever skin he has access to. 

“Good. You did so good, Kookie. I’m proud of you,” you whisper, and you don’t even need to look at him to know he’s grinning. 

“You did good, too, baby. I see what that guy meant by top three and made you brownies.”

“So you agree I didn’t fuck a guy for brownies, I just fucked a guy so good that he made me brownies?”

A full body laugh, muffled by your skin as he buries his face into your neck before pulling back. 

“No. You absolutely fucked a guy for brownies.” 

“Fuck you.”

“You did like almost an hour ago. It was great. Ten out of ten would get fucked again.” He snorts when you glare down at him, bringing himself up to kiss you, wrapping his hands around the back of your neck. 

“I love you, Sparkles. Thank you for this.” His whispers land on top of your lips and you can only find yourself mumbling your love for him back. 

The rest of Sunday is spent like this. In the tub, rinsing off the damn sparkles from the bath bomb in the shower, having a little spa evening with face masks and massages for each other. With work the next day, it meant no more intense fun time, and you’d be lying if you weren’t a little bummed, because now you had to actually clean up after your sexapades. Two loads of laundry, both of you cleaning the toys, wiping down the island counter and throwing away the take out boxes. When it was finally time to sleep, you both passed out in the freshly cleaned sheets. 

When you wake up the next morning, Jungkook is gone for the day, out training with Taehyung. You slowly go about your morning, brushing your teeth before dragging yourself to the kitchen where you’re caught off guard by a box on the counter. There’s a mini balloon attached that says Thank You! You grab the little post-it note on top and laugh out loud, opening the box to see six individual brownies. 

I can’t bake to save my life. But I can walk to a bakery. Thanks for the sex. Xx

Thank you for reading if you did. It’d mean the world if you reblogged or let me know what you think. 💜

[taetaespeaches]

“Your tattoos are hot.”

jimin x reader (oc) genre: fluff; suggestive word count: 1.9K

a/n: Hi lovelies! I was thinking about how Hobi revealed that while the boys are just hanging together with take out, Jimin sits there in nothing but his underwear. And then! I was thinking about how much I love Jimin’s tattoos. And it resulted in this. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 

Looking over the various plastic take out containers scattered across the coffee table, you practically salivated over all the options you and your boyfriend ordered. You were a simple couple at the end of the day, loving nothing more than sitting in the living room and eating copious amounts of take away while existing in each other’s presence. Content with your spread, you took your seat on the sofa, instantly melting into its plushness.

However, as your gaze meandered over the food once again, you realized the rice wasn’t among the multiple side dishes. “Shit,” you mumbled, looking at the couch cushion that had just welcomed your form, before directing your gaze toward the kitchen. “Hey, Chim?” you called out to your boyfriend who you could hear rummaging around the room. He hummed in response with the sound of the refrigerator door shutting. “Can you bring the rice in? I must have left it on the counter,” you told him, coating your tone in sweet helplessness. “And I just sat down,” you whined, pointing out the fact that you couldn’t simply get up from the couch to get it yourself.  

Within a few seconds, your boyfriend rounded the corner, entering the living area with one hand carrying a bottle of wine by the neck, his other palm balancing the container of rice. “We must have rice!” He noted cheerily as he approached you. Damn near naked.

It wasn’t rare for the man to wander around the apartment with nothing but his underwear, but that didn’t mean you were immune to seeing him like that. “I can’t believe you were so prudish the one time I walked around naked when you constantly walk around like that,” you told him, lifting your eyebrows challengingly.

“Dear,” he halted walking, sassily popping a hip out at you. “You were naked. Like, nude, nothing but skin.”

“Yeah, I had just gotten out of the shower,” you informed him as though it was obvious and totally normal. “And you’re practically naked right now,” you nodded at him, the man shaking his head as he started towards you again.

“I have my best parts hidden,” he defended with a smirk, eliciting a giggle from you.

“Are you talking about your ass?” You asked teasingly, earning a wide-eyed expression of surprise from your boyfriend as he set the wine bottle down on the table.

“Is that what you think my best body part is?” He asked. “After everything I’ve done for you?” It was a trick question, really. If you said yes, he’d be offended that you didn’t appreciate the length inside his briefs more, but if you said no he’d quiz you on why his butt wasn’t good enough for you when it was undeniably perfect.

Shrugging, you reached for a take out container. “It is nice.” A smile spread across your boyfriend’s face as he set the rice down in front of you.

“Your rice, Dear,” he bowed, you gasping in response to play up the mini act. “I didn’t have enough hands to grab glasses so we’ll have to drink that from the bottle,” he nodded at the wine.

“Because the kitchen is so far away you couldn’t possibly make another trip to get some glasses, right?” You teased, grabbing the bottle and already bringing it to your lips to take a swig.

“Did you not just make me get the rice because of that exact reason?” He countered. “But yes, that,” he agreed, taking a seat on the floor beside your legs. “And also because you would just check out my ass as I walked away.”

“I’d do it respectfully,” you pouted, Jimin giggling as he leaned toward you, pressing his lips to the side of your thigh, just above your knee.

As you both dug into the food, passing dishes back and forth to each other, your conversation died out for a moment, replaced by groans and moans of approval at the taste of the dishes. You were seated cross-legged on the couch cushion as he rested his back against the edge of the sofa from his spot on the floor. Just as you slurped an excessive amount of noodles into your mouth, Jimin turned his head to look at you, immediately starting with a sassy, “Also…” You nearly snorted at the expression he wore, as though he was determined to prove you wrong about something. Widening your eyes in response, you awaited his next words. “I wasn’t even being prudish.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled through your mouthful of food. “I mean, you weren’t not being prudish.”

“Please, I love you naked-”

“Oh, how romantic,” you teased, placing a hand over your heart to further your act.

“I’m just a mere man, Dear. When my hot girlfriend is naked, I’m going to have some sort of reaction to you,” he defended, just before widening his eyes and glancing down at his lap, not so subtly hinting at exactly what kind of reaction.

Throwing your head back in laughter, you held the dish in your hands out as you crumbled against the arm of the sofa while Jimin chuckled in a way that made his whole upper body bounce as an embodiment of his amusement. “And you think I don’t have some sort of reaction,” you mimicked his choice of words, “when you walk around like this?” Your gaze dragged up and down his frame to emphasize your point, Jimin only laughing further as he placed his food on the table so he could fall to the floor.

As you watched him laugh, your heart pounded in affection for the man. He was so pretty, so stunning, it was hard to look anywhere else but at him when he was around. Lifting himself onto his elbows as he directed his smile at you, you cocked your head in response. “You’re right, I should be more considerate of you,” he teasingly agreed with a nod and a friendly smile. “I’m sorry for not realizing how much difficulty I’ve been putting you under,” he jokingly apologized, only making you giggle more.

“You should be sorry,” you told him with a huff. Reaching toward the table, you discarded your own food before sitting back up in a cross-legged position. “Especially with your tattoos. Your tattoos are hot.”

“Are they?” He asked, his eyes widening slightly as he flashed you a smirk. Sitting up to get closer to you, he watched as your hand came toward the side of his face.

Humming at him, you gently turned his face away from you so you could see the newest tattoo behind his ear. “I like this one,” you told him. “It’s pretty.” Tracing the ink that spelled Youth in cursive, you noticed the way Jimin’s eyelids fluttered shut just briefly at your touch. His reaction only encouraged you to continue, along with your desire to fill him up with praise. Scooting over on the sofa, you positioned yourself so you sat behind him, your hands trailing over his bare shoulders. You took a moment to massage his muscles gently, appreciating his smooth skin under your fingertips. “And so is this one,” you told him as your fingers ghosted over the waxing crescent moon at the back of his neck.

Lowering your head toward his, you allowed your lips to hover over his ear as you whispered, “it might actually be my favorite.”

“Really?” He whispered in a hoarse voice, the man clearing his throat after speaking, not expecting it to come out so affected.

“Mhmm,” you smiled, tracing it gently with your index finger. “So pretty.”

“I thought my tattoos were hot,” he challenged, a smirk evident in his voice, nearly making you roll your eyes as a soft grin formed on your lips.

“Hmm” you hummed, smiling as your hands roamed over his shoulders again before sliding down his biceps. You squeezed the muscles with a small hum of approval, the man chuckling, before you lowered your hands further, halting at his elbows where you swiped your thumbs over the ink that existed at the back of his arms. Young Forever. “These are pretty hot,” you told him through a smile. “I like catching glimpses of them when you’re wandering around in a t-shirt,” you lightly giggled at yourself.

“Oh yeah?” Jimin asked, amused and smitten.

“Mhmm,” you assured him. Then, moving your right hand to the side of your boyfriend’s body, you lowered your lips to his ear. “This one is definitely hot,” you whispered, your voice low and seductive as your fingers brushed over the nevermind tattoo. His skin was warm, welcoming your touch. “Very hot,” you smiled, Jimin turning to look at you, his orbs immediately glancing at your lips before meeting your eyes. “I kind of love the fact that everyone thinks this one is hot, but they rarely get to see it. And here I am getting to touch it.”

Without another moment wasted, the man was sitting up on his knees and crawling overtop you, pushing you against the sofa cushions as he pressed a needy kiss to your mouth. His lips worked messily against your own, moans already slipping from his mouth to yours as your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, your thumbs soothing over the ink again as your fingers greedily dug into his strands at his nape, wanting more of him; wanting him closer.

Jimin held himself up overtop of you, his arms caging your frame on both sides of your face. He pulled away to look down at you, wanting to see your expression, wanting to see his effect on you. “You’re so stunning,” he groaned, frustrated with how attracted he was to you, with how much he always wanted you, and especially so in that moment. Giggling bashfully at him, suddenly shy under his attention, you turned your face toward his left arm where your eyes came into contact with the black 13 that was inked into the inside of his wrist. “Ah,” you noted, smiling at it before nudging it with your nose. Jimin’s breath hitched when you pressed a kiss to the tattoo. The action was sweet and intimate, and it had Jimin reeling, finding himself in awe of you as you turned your face back to him, looking up at him with a smitten beam.

“I love that one too,” you told him sweetly. It was such a contrast to the way Jimin wanted you in that moment that all he could do was shake his head at you and smile as he took his turn to be bashful.

“Thank you,” he said through a breathy chuckle as your hand teasingly ran down his abdomen, urging him into action.

“Thank you for walking around half naked,” you smirked. “I guess,” you added with a roll of your eyes.

Chuckling, Jimin lowered his face to yours once again, meeting you in a desperate kiss, needing to finally take things further. “My fucking pleasure,” he mumbled into the kiss, only allowing you a moment to giggle at him before he was kissing you harder, preparing to taking you to another plane of existence.

Your plans for a lowkey night with take away and wine were long forgotten as Jimin took over every fiber of your mind. Because, well, a needy Jimin full of fresh praise was a magical Jimin. Truly.

[marblemoovt]

Recipe For A Good Time - Jeff The Killer/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: None, just good ol’ fluff.

Summary:

You own a bakery and Jeff decides to tag along one day to learn how to bake a cake.

Aka: a JTK fanfic that's actually fluffy and wholesome??

------

“Don’t forget that promise you made,” Jeff says.

You open your closet and pick an outfit for the day. Looking over your shoulder, you ask, “What promise?”

Jeff chuckles. “Are you kidding me? You forgot already?” He’s out of bed now and comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel his chest against your head.

You look up and smile sweetly. “I didn’t forget. You’re just terrible at reminding me.” He leans down, his hair tickling your face.

Jeff hums. “Oh sure, blame it on me.” He plants a kiss on your forehead. “You promised to teach me how to bake a cake today.” You soak in the affection, your brain still processing his words. Wait…. You did what??

Note:

A majority of the creepypasta reader inserts I see don't involve healthy relationships or there's always the risk of death. If you've read any of my works, which I highly recommend if you haven't, you'll notice that I am partial to fluff. So since I couldn't find what I wanted to read, I wrote it instead. I hope anyone else that's looking for some nice fluff with Jeff appreciates this. I honestly didn't expect the word count to go this high. The story just kinda ran on its own. But hey, more fluff for you guys.

I also recently learned that Jeffrey Woods is actually a fanfic based on Jeffrey Hodek (insert the more you know meme). The Jeff in this fic is the Hodek one, but it doesn't impact the plot too much. I spent a while in the deviant art rabbit hole trying to learn as much as I could about Jeffrey Hodek (who belongs to sesseur), but I'm honestly clueless how to capture his behaviour. I do prefer the Hodek version if anyone was curious. Mainly because that Jeff has a lot more depth to him and his overall story feels more believable.

Happy reading! (＾Ｕ＾)ノ

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

Thump. 

Thud. 

Thunk. 

You shift in your sleep and roll onto your back, bringing the blankets closer when there’s a sudden draft in the room. Footsteps slowly rouse you awake. When you crack open an eye, a heavy weight pins you to your bed. You grunt and try to sit up, but it’s no use. You’re fully awake now, but the darkness in your bedroom robs you of your sight. The metallic scent of blood fills your nostrils, and you groan when you barely make out the eyes staring back at you. 

“I could slit your throat, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.” Jeff’s accent greets your ears. You do not have time for his bullshit right now.

“I told you to stop climbing through my window in the middle of the night,” you chastise. Fumbling around, you reach the switch at your bedside and turn on a lamp.

“Hey, beautiful.” Jeff’s straddling your hips, and he’s heavy. Your sleep paralysis demons have nothing on this man. You rub your eyes to adjust them to the light, and you can clearly see the shit-eating grin on his face. A pang of annoyance twinges in your chest. 

“Fuck off.” You roll your hips to buck him off, but he grabs your waist and clicks his tongue. 

“How about I fuck you instead?” He wraps a hand around your throat, and his nails press against your skin. There isn’t any pressure, but his hold keeps you in place. Jeff doesn’t usually throw himself at you unless he’s come back from a kill. 

“You’re high on adrenaline, aren’t you?” Your nose scrunches in distaste at the state of his clothes; they’re definitely going in the wash first thing in the morning. “I have work in a couple of hours.” Owning a bakery means waking up at ungodly hours because you have to wake up before the early risers. 

Jeff smirks and squeezes your throat gently. “All I’m hearing is that we have enough time for multiple rounds.” You stare at him. It’s three in the morning, and you need to be up at six to get ready for work. There’s no way you’re going to let Jeff’s horny ass interrupt your sleep. 

You firmly grab his wrist. “No, Jeff. Now go shower; you stink.” He releases your neck and pouts. It doesn’t have the desired effect since it still looks like he’s smiling. 

“What? You don’t like the smell of blood?” He tugs on his sweater and admires the red stains. 

You groan and try to shove him off, but he doesn’t even budge. “I don’t like cleaning it off my sheets either. Shower or leave. Your choice,” you say, giving him an ultimatum. You’re hoping that this will force him off of you. Otherwise, you’ll be sorely tempted to punch that smirk off his face. 

Jeff hums and strokes his chin. “You drive a hard bargain, doll. What if I say no?”

You shrug your shoulders. “My house, my rules.”

Jeff puts a hand over his heart. Once again, the downturn of his lips does nothing for you. “Don’t I live here too?” he asks. You scoff, getting cranky from being kept awake.

“Excuse me? Do you contribute to rent? What about the bills?” You place your hands on your hips and frown.

Jeff puts his hands up in surrender and crawls off of you. “Geez, mom. I’m going, I’m going.” You continue to glare at him the entire time he walks to the bathroom, which is located on the other side of your bedroom. You glance at the clock, which you know you shouldn’t do, and curse when you see it’s almost four in the morning. You pull the blanket over your head and shut your eyes. You try to make the most of the two hours you have left. 

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

“Babe.” Poke. “Baaaaabee.” A harsher poke this time. You grunt and peek out of the blankets to see Jeff lying next to you on his side, his hand propping up his head. He waves lazily at you. 

“You are an absolute menace.” You blink to clear your bleary vision. The sunlight streaming through the curtains is not helping.

Jeff looks amused. “That’s the thanks I get for making sure you don’t sleep in?”

You bolt upright and glance at your alarm clock. 6:15. Shit. “Thanks,” you say, genuinely meaning it. You ruffle Jeff’s hair and add, “you're still a menace.” He rolls his eyes, but the pleased smile on his face is hard to miss. You lean over to kiss his cheek before getting out of bed.

“Don’t forget that promise you made,” Jeff says. 

You open your closet and pick an outfit for the day. Looking over your shoulder, you ask, “What promise?”

Jeff chuckles. “Are you kidding me? You forgot already?” He’s out of bed now and comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel his chest against your head. 

You look up and smile sweetly. “I didn’t forget. You’re just terrible at reminding me.” He leans down, his hair tickling your face.

Jeff hums. “Oh sure, blame it on me.” He plants a kiss on your forehead. “You promised to teach me how to bake a cake today.” You soak in the affection, your brain still processing his words. Wait …. You did what??

“I did? How did you get me to agree to that?” Your tone is full of disbelief. You love Jeff, but he can be a hot mess in the kitchen. You’re assuming that this will translate to baking.

Jeff laughs again, and you feel the rumble from his chest. His arms pull you closer to his body. “Ouch, sweetheart. I ain’t exactly a Michelin star chef, but how hard can a cake be? It’s cake.” You don’t think Jeff realizes how much precision baking requires. You think you’ll have to clean up the mess when he learns the hard way.

“I don’t know. You always find a way to surprise me,” you remark on his uncanny ability to cause trouble.

Jeff shrugs and grins. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me get ready, and then we can head out.” You turn around and kiss him. Pulling away, you begin stripping and changing into the clothes you picked. Jeff is already dressed, and you suddenly remember that you need to do the laundry before you leave. You head into the bathroom and grab the hamper of dirty clothes.

Jeff follows you and asks, “Can I drive?” You open the washing machine and toss all the clothes inside. Neither you nor Jeff wear much white, so you don’t bother separating your laundry by colour.

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth, remembering what happened the last time you let him drive. Some guy didn’t signal properly and cut him off. The road rage that the incident induced was… interesting. You had to convince Jeff not to do anything rash, refusing to take over the wheel when he wanted to get close to the other car so he could jump over. “...I’ll think about it,” you finally say. Grabbing a Tyde pod, you toss it in with the clothes and shut the door. With one push of a button, the wash cycle starts, and you need to get your ass in the car now if you don’t want to be late. Being your own boss has its perks, but most of your regulars show up around opening, so being late is not an option.

Jeff increases his strides to keep up with your pace. “I promise I won’t get into an accident again! It’s not my fault someone decided to give licences to idiots.” You give him the side-eye, and he shrugs with both hands up.

“Mhmm. Explains why they gave you one, then.” You elbow his side, and he recoils. He holds your hand after you lock the front door.

“I’ll have you know I’m far better than those bozos. I actually have more than one brain cell,” Jeff states.

“Heh. Whatever helps you sleep at night, baby.” You unlock the car and flush when Jeff leans in to whisper into your ear.

“Nah, just need you.” 

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

The car ride is short. You actually end up letting Jeff drive, and miraculously, no accidents occur. Of course, it was helpful that there were barely any other drivers. Waking up at six means beating traffic and rush hour. 

Jeff pulls over and parks in the small parking lot beside the cafe. He’s wearing his usual pair of sunglasses and a face mask. 

“See? No accidents.” You can't see his face, but you can hear the pride in his voice. 

“Good job, baby,” you compliment him. The tips of his ears and his neck are noticeably red. Jeff doesn’t respond and instead gets out of the car. You follow after him, silently laughing at how stiff his walk is. 

You enter the cafe through the back door, which leads directly to the kitchen. There’s a faint smell of cinnamon and nutmeg in the air. It’s Fall, and that means pies and pumpkins are very popular right now. Luckily, pies are easy to prepare the day before. 

Jeff sticks out in the kitchen like a sore thumb. You’re tempted to take a picture. It’s like someone’s poorly photoshopped him into a stock image. You take off and hang your jacket on the coat rack, rolling up your shirt sleeves. Washing your hands, you tell Jeff to do the same. “Oh, and you can take your glasses and mask off,” you add. He hesitates at that. “Only if you’re comfortable. I do enjoy seeing your handsome face.”

“Shut up,” Jeff grumbles. His appearance has always been a sore spot. There are good days and bad days. Some days Jeff will cover himself up and not leave a single inch of skin exposed. Today seems to be a bad day. You hope to change that.

“Maybe at least your sunglasses so you can see clearly?” You reach out to him. He flinches, which causes you to freeze. You bring your arm back and cradle it to your chest. Clearing your throat, you continue the conversation. “I need to prepare some things for opening. Do you want to help?” You turn around and grab an apron each for the two of you.

“Sure,” Jeff responds. He’s closed himself up behind his walls again, and you have no idea how to get through them. Biting your lip, you hand him the apron, your hand lingering in the air for a while before he snatches it from you.

“I have some frozen cookie dough you can put in the oven. I need to put together the pies and bake those too.” You spin around the kitchen. There’s a nagging feeling that you should be doing something right now. You gasp, “Oh! I can’t forget about the macarons in the fridge!” You spin again and see pie shells littering one of the counters. You spend the next ten minutes frantically travelling back and forth between the kitchen and storefront with cases of macarons.

Jeff finds your stash of cookie dough and looks for a baking tray next. There’s a whole rack of trays next to the oven, along with a box of parchment paper. Grabbing a sheet, he lines a tray and evenly spaces out the unbaked cookies. “Is it always this hectic?” he asks, watching you fuss and complain about how ‘there’s so much to do!’ It reminds him of his mother whenever they had guests visiting.

“Not normally.” You reach over Jeff’s shoulder and preheat the oven. “Those bake for 15 minutes, by the way. Anyway, where was I?” You scan the kitchen, and there’s still the nagging feeling that you’ve forgotten something important. 

“You were going to teach me how to bake a cake?” Jeff suggests, to which you shake your head. The cookies are in the oven, and the macarons are on display. What did you forget this time?

“I will, but not now. What else am I forgetting?” You notice the minefield of pie shells on the counter, and none of them are filled. “How strong are your arms?” You eye his arms, and though he may not be ripped, you know that Jeff works out. 

Jeff examines his arms and shrugs. “I would say they’re pretty strong. Why?”

“I need you to mix enough filling to make 20 pies,” you say. Jeff stands there, stunned for a few seconds before he realizes you’re dead serious.

“What kinda army are you feeding??”

You shrug and casually answer with, “Capitalist slaves.”

Jeff’s eyes are still hidden behind his sunglasses, but you can still feel the disappointment in his stare. “I’m gonna ignore whatever joke you were trying to make. What am I mixing?”

“Apple, mixed berry, and pumpkin!” you list off, counting with your fingers. Your lips quirk into a sly grin. “It’s the season where people treat pumpkin spice like it’s crack, and we’re taking advantage of that.” It’s an unspoken rule that people go crazy over pumpkin spice during Fall. Your latte and pie sales always go through the roof during this season. 

“Exploiting addicts? That’s a sleazy move, doll.” There’s a lilt to Jeff’s voice. The grin in his tone makes you feel all fuzzy inside. “I like it.”

“I knew you would approve. I’ve set up all the ingredients; you just have to mix them together.” You walk him to another counter with three gigantic bowls and their respective recipe ingredients. Everything is already measured and weighed. Jeff only has to follow the recipe and mix the right ingredients together. If he can meticulously plan a murder, then surely he can do this. A recipe is basically just a set of instructions. Except, instead of a corpse, you end up with something delicious! Although, you suppose murder can still be delicious if you’re a cannibal….

Jeff stares at the ridiculous amount of apples, berries, and canned pumpkins. He whistles lowly and looks at you. “Shit. You weren’t kidding about 20 pies.” The mountain on the counter has become a regular sight for you. To put it into perspective, an average apple pie uses about five apples. Multiply that by six, and you have a lot of apples (you didn’t feel the need to use actual math, so ‘a lot’ is the correct answer).

You tilt your head to the side. “Why would I joke about that?” You like to mess with him, but your paycheck is riding on these pies.

Jeff shrugs. “I dunno. To fuck with me?”

You shake your head. “Nah. 20 Is the bare minimum right now.” You have flashbacks of customers getting angry at you for running out of pies. Especially those who come near closing. You’re not some magician who conjures a pie whenever someone wants to buy one. There’s a limited amount for each item you can bake in a day. Honestly, food service sucks because customers can be such idiots sometimes. The second perk of being your own boss: you get to kick people out whenever you feel like it. 

Jeff’s question pulls you out of your thoughts. “How much do you normally make?”

You drum your fingers on your thighs and blow a raspberry. “At least twice as much, sometimes more.” You give him a rough estimate, but once again, he looks like he’s waiting for the punchline of a joke. “People really like pies,” you say with a shrug. 

Jeff picks up a bowl of flour and inspects it closely. “You’re not secretly slipping in cocaine or something, are you?” As if this city isn’t crazy enough. You’re pretty sure that if you laced your products with drugs, some riot would happen. OR , you would create a world-class drug cartel that uses cafes as a front. You think you could pull off a suit and—oh right, Jeff just questioned your baking skills. Offended. You were feeling offended.

Pushing aside any schemes to raise a drug empire, you scoff and cross your arms. “Rude. Is it so far-fetched that my baking is amazing?”

Jeff sets down the flour and leans against the counter. You can feel his gaze wash over you like he’s trying to figure you out. “I don’t know, sweet cheeks. I guess I’ll find out today.” Despite dating for a year, Jeff hasn’t tried any of your baking. He says it’s because he doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, and you would never push him to try. Anytime he takes baked goods home, it’s for his niece and nephews. 

You grimace at the pet name. “I told you to stop calling me that,” you say, and Jeff snickers. He thinks it’s funny because you’re a baker. And while you have to agree with some of his points—you do have a nice ass, thank you very much—the amount of embarrassment it causes is lethal.

“I think it’s fitting.” He appreciatively pats your bottom. You swat his hand away and ignore the heat in your chest that spreads up your neck and face like wildfire. 

“Then you need an equally fitting nickname,” you say. Maybe if you come up with something so embarrassing, he’ll have no choice but to stop calling you that horrid name. 

Jeff crosses his arms and nods. “Alright. Hit me.”

You stare at him, cycling through the various names in your head. You finally settle on one. “How about hot stuff?” (And no, you’re not making fun of him for that one time he accidentally spilled acid on himself.) 

Jeff shakes his head and shuffles his feet. “You can forget about it.” Once again, the tips of his ears glow red. It’s a shame you can’t see the rest of his face. 

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad,” you say. “Would you prefer if I called you Ghostface?”

Jeff clicks his tongue. “Wrong killer, doll.”

“It was just an example,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand. Maybe pleading would work? Yeah! All you have to do is bat your eyelashes at Jeff, and he’ll become putty in your hands. You walk up to him and pout, giving him puppy eyes. Jeff groans and looks up at the ceiling. You hear him mumbling to himself but can’t make out what he’s saying. 

Jeff lets out a sigh. “Fine.” His shoulders slump. The counter is supporting a majority of his weight now. 

An amused smirk flashes across your face. “Really? You caved in that easily?” You honestly thought he would put up more of a fight. Jeff can be really stubborn at times. A part of you was actually hoping for a challenge.

“Just don’t use it in public. If Liu finds out, I’m never gonna hear the end of it.” You deduce from the groan Jeff lets out that he’s already thinking about the consequences.

You rub his back in a comforting gesture. “If you can handle a few bullets, then a little embarrassment won’t kill you.” You probably should feel bad, but it’s not often that Jeff will let you get away with teasing him.

Jeff chortles. “I think you’re underestimating emotional damage.” And damn, do you try hard not to think about a meme you saw on the internet. You plant a kiss on his jawline and tell him to call for you if he needs anything. As you start to turn, Jeff stops you.  “Hey, could you take off my sunglasses for me? I can’t read the recipes with them on.” Before you can ask him why he can’t do it himself, you see that his hands are a mess of sugar, berries, and cornstarch. You’re beginning to think that maybe you expected too much from Jeff because the whisk is sitting on the counter, untouched and clearly visible.

“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to see a thing,” you scold, but it’s lighthearted, and you know he’s rolling his eyes while trying to hold back a smile. You reach up and gently slide the sunglasses off his face, careful to not poke him in the eye with the temples (who decided to name the little arm thingies ‘temples’ anyway?)

His green eyes are striking, and you can’t tear your gaze away. You always did like how pretty they are. You don’t realize you’re staring until Jeff decides to break the silence.

“Hey,” he whispers. His voice is huskier, and you wet your dry lips with your tongue.

“Hi,” you respond in an equally hushed tone. You continue staring, burning the image into your memory. Jeff’s eyes flicker to your parted lips, and a magnetic pull draws you closer to him. Your hand is still firmly gripping his sunglasses while the other has wandered up to his face. You trace where the edges of his mouth are beneath the fabric. You hear his breathing deepen. Deciding to tease him some more, you plant a kiss on his mask.

“Don’t,” Jeff pleads. He sounds so vulnerable that it throws you off for a second. His arms are wrapped around your waist. He’s looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. You can feel the love and adoration he holds for you, and you also know how hesitant he is to show it. While Jeff doesn’t believe that emotions make a person weak, you know that he struggles to communicate his feelings and how to cope with certain ones.

You stroke his cheek, and the mask is smooth under your thumb. “Don’t what?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

“Don’t make me regret keeping this stupid mask on,” Jeff replies. His eyes are begging you now, and it takes you everything not to pull his mask down and shower him with kisses. His hands are rubbing circles into your waist, and now it’s really hard not to kiss him silly.

You brush some of his hair out of his eyes and grin. “Sounds like you’re already regretting it if you’re calling it stupid,” you point out.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeff’s question is abrupt but straight to the point.

Your fingers toy with the ear loops of his mask. “I was going to if you weren’t.” And that’s all the confirmation he needs. Jeff tugs his mask down and kisses you with fervour. You manage to set his sunglasses on the counter, and your hands instinctively thread his hair. He groans, and you take the opportunity to slip in your tongue, which he enthusiastically greets with his own. It’s all so warm, and the little noises Jeff makes are so pretty, and the way he protests when you tell him that…. It makes you want to spoil him rotten . It’s no surprise that years of little contact with other people has left Jeff with some ‘side-effects’. You know he doesn’t want to label himself as ‘touch-starved,’ so he tries to cover it up with other terms to lighten the implications. But the signs are unmistakable. 

Whenever you’re sitting on the couch, Jeff will sit next to you, only to end up with his head in your lap and your fingers massaging his scalp. Every night you find yourself in his embrace, pressed flush against his chest. Sometimes he’ll cling to you in the kitchen while you cook dinner. It was difficult at first to navigate while Jeff clings to you like a baby koala, but now it’s become second nature. 

You leave a trail of kisses down his throat, stopping to suck on his pulse point. As you’re making your way toward his shoulder, the oven timer goes off. The sound jumpscares both of you, and you accidentally bite down. Jeff hisses, and you pull away to apologize profusely. Jeff’s arms keep you from moving too far back. You take a moment to admire your handiwork. His lips are swollen, and you’re sure yours are too. His entire body looks flushed, and you can still hear him panting. You smile as you trace the hickey that’s starting to form on his neck. Then you see the bite mark. Oh god . Right between his shoulder and neck are a shallow imprint of your teeth. And honestly? It’s kinda hot.

Jeff clears his throat. “I, uh, better start mixing.” His fingers run over where you tried to take a bite out of him moments ago.

You glance at the clock on the wall and notice that the cafe is supposed to open in ten minutes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll… I’ll bring everything else to the front.” Your head is still feeling a little fuzzy.

“I need you to let go of me if I wanna use my arms.” Jeff’s voice brings some clarity to your mind, and you notice that your hands are still gripping his arms. His very muscular arms. You give them a squeeze, and Jeff coughs to catch your attention. 

“Sorry!” You bring your arms to your side and drum your fingers against your thigh again to keep them occupied.” Let me know when the fillings are done, and we can start baking the pies. And please use the whisk this time.” 

“You got it, boss.” Jeff salutes with two fingers and presses a kiss to the side of your head before you leave. You remove the cookies from the oven and bring them to the front to cool before you put them on display. Your reflection in the glass display case is a mess, which means you look like a mess right now. You try to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes and tidy your mussed hair. 

A loud clatter resonates from the kitchen. It sounds like someone smashed a giant gong. 

“Don’t worry about that!” You have to stifle your laughter at the slight panic in Jeff’s voice. 

He’s a bigger mess than you are. 

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

The day continues like usual. Your regular customers show up on their way to work and often leave with a drink and a pastry. Jeff managed to mix all the pie fillings in twenty minutes, so now all the pies are sitting on display. They’re selling out like you expected, which is why you set some aside for Jeff. You saw him eying the pies while they were baking, but he declined when you offered him a slice. Declining food when offered the first time seems to be some unspoken rule most humans follow. So now there’s a pie slice of each flavour in a container that you put in the fridge. Jeff stays in the back, mostly because he doesn’t feel like being subjected to the stares he knows he’ll get. You did tell him that you would kick out anyone that looks at him funny, but he only thanked you and said that would be unnecessary. 

It’s about time for lunch, and you just finished convincing an elderly woman that you cannot sell her all the pies you currently have because there are other people wanting pies. She argues that it shouldn’t be a problem if she has the money to pay for it all. You manage to compromise on a third of your pies. But still, what does one do with seven pies?? It’s honestly hilarious watching this old woman shimmy out of your cafe with a stack of pies that tower over her. Hopefully, she doesn’t drop any of them on the way to her car. You flip the little sign on the door to ‘closed’ and untie your apron.

“Jeeeeeeeeeeffffff. I have time to teach you how to bake a cake now,” you call out, making your way to the kitchen. You don’t get a response. “Jeff? Helloooo?” You hang your apron by the door and step inside. “You didn’t die while messing around in my kitchen, did you? Cause that would be a really sad way to die, considering how hard it is to kill you.” The fridge starts beeping, and you notice one of its doors is ajar.

“Shit. Would you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to be sneaky here,” Jeff hisses. He’s not talking to you. He’s scolding the fridge.

“And just what are you doing?” You walk up to him and peer behind the door to see what he’s up to.

The fridge slams shut before you can see much. “Just, uh, enjoying the scenery,” Jeff says. If the context wasn’t so ridiculous, you would believe the nonchalance in his tone. 

“Of my fridge?” You give him a skeptical look. 

Jeff nods solemnly and pats your fridge. “It’s a really nice fridge.” And it is. You managed to snag it while it was on sale. But that’s not important right now. What’s important is the open container you saw inside the fridge. 

“You’re not eating the pies you said you didn’t want?” You narrow your eyes, and Jeff shifts around on the spot. 

He looks away from you. “Why would I eat something I didn’t want?” 

The evidence outweighs his logic. “I don’t know. Why is there whipped cream around your mouth?” You point out the remains of pie on his face. There’s also a fork haphazardly sticking out of his pocket, but you’ll let him have at least a little bit of dignity. 

Jeff shrugs. “So I had some whipped cream, big deal.”

“And the pies underneath the whipped cream from the looks of it.” You go to open the fridge, but Jeff leans heavily against the door. 

“It’s not my fault that they’re so addicting. You must be slipping something into your pies!”

You stare at him, unblinking. “Yes. I thought we established that it was talent and skill. Do you want to learn how to bake a cake or not?”

Jeff straightens his posture. “I do.”

“Then say I’m the best baker ever, and you love my pies,” you demand with a smirk. 

“What? Why?!” Jeff’s face scrunches up, and you school your expression,

“Humour me,” you say.

Jeff’s eyebrows raise, then furrow, followed by a devious grin. “I’m the best baker ever, and you love my pies.”

You shove him playfully and roll your eyes. “Smartass,”

“I’m kidding. Your baking is witchcraft, and your pies are delicious.” He pulls you into his arms and kisses the crown of your head. 

“Close enough.” You look at him and silently beg for more kisses. Jeff’s expression softens, and he places another kiss on your forehead. Fuck does this man make you soft. “Did you have any specific type of cake in mind?” you ask, playing with the collar of his shirt. 

Jeff ponders. The vibrations from his humming tickle your skin. He replies with, “Something chocolate, and maybe with fruits?” You nod your head. A classic combination. 

“Have you ever had a black forest cake?” you ask, not seeing any recognition in his eyes. 

“What kinda name for a cake is that?” He rubs a spot of flour from your cheek and takes in your serious expression. “No. I haven’t.”

You place a kiss on his hand in thanks. “It’s basically a chocolate cake with cherries. Does that sound good to you?” The smile on Jeff’s face is infectious, and he’s radiating with warmth and energy. Your chest swells with affection. You would have tried to teach him how to bake earlier if you knew this would be his reaction. 

Jeff’s eyes are bright, and he squeezes your waist in excitement. “You had me at chocolate and cherries.”

You grin and kiss his cheek before pulling away. His scar is rough against your lips, but you don't mind at all. Heading to the pantry, you grab all the necessary ingredients and assemble them on the counter. You grab a scale off the shelf, along with a few bowls. 

“Ok, so this is a scale. We’re going to use it to weigh our ingredients. Have you ever used one before?” you ask Jeff. He comes up behind you and latches on like a baby koala. The warm, spicy scent of his cologne envelopes you. 

“Not for, uh, food,” Jeff answers. You don’t want to know what he’s used a scale for. There was this one time when the grocery store forgot to label the weight of the beef. Jeff grabbed one of the packages and bobbed his hand before giving you a near-perfect estimate. You didn’t want to ask how he developed that particular skill. Instead, you thanked him and made roast beef for dinner to preserve your sanity. 

“The process is pretty much the same. You can measure all the dry ingredients and mix them together. I’m going to mix the wet ingredients.” Jeff reluctantly releases you and carefully measures the flour and cocoa while you mix the vanilla and oil in a separate bowl.

Jeff pours some sugar and stops when the scale reaches the right weight. “Is there a reason we’re not using measuring cups?” he asks.

“You can, but I prefer weighing. Less chance of messing up,” you reply, adding buttermilk to your mixture. “I do use measuring spoons for stuff like spices.” Jeff nods and reaches for the measuring spoons on the table. He adds baking powder and soda, along with salt, and mixes the dry ingredients together,

Jeff stares at his bowl and then looks at you, lost. “What do I do now?”

“Now we’re going to slowly combine the wet and dry ingredients.” You slowly add the dry ingredients while Jeff mixes. “Yeah, like that. Good job, baby!” you praise him, and the whisk clangs harshly against the metal bowl.

“I’m just moving a whisk. I don’t see what’s so special about that.” Jeff continues to mix aggressively, but it does nothing to hide the redness of his cheeks.

You tilt your head to the side and smile at him. “But this is your first time baking a cake, and I think you’re doing fantastic!”

Jeff gives the batter a final jab before setting the whisk against the bowl. “W-what’s next?” You don’t acknowledge the wobble in his voice and head to the fridge.

“Next, we add the eggs in one at a time. After that, we pour them into pans and pop them into the oven.” You crack in an egg, and Jeff combines it with the batter. This repeats another three times until the batter is a good consistency between thick and runny. 

“That’s it?” Jeff furrows his brows, and you bite your lip to hold back a dopey grin. 

“Yep,” you nod. Jeff stares at the dark, glossy batter with a searching look. You refrain from saying anything and opt to hum to fill the void of silence. He immediately recognizes the melody of Reflection and shoots you a half-hearted glare. You smile and wave at him.

“I always thought it would be more… complicated,” Jeff admits. There’s something hilarious about how he struggles with domestic activities when he’s an accomplished killer. The man can commit murder and evade the police, but god forbid he has to cook or bake. Although, he is proficient at cleaning—like really proficient. Again, you don’t ask. You’re just thankful the house is always clean when you come home from work.

“Baking can be pretty simple,” you say. Jeff divides the batter between two lined pans and puts them into the oven you preheated earlier.  “While those are baking, we can make the whipped cream. I already have some cherry jam and syrup we can use.”

“Can’t you use the stuff they have in cans?” Jeff’s question is innocent enough, but he unknowingly asked you to commit a baking sin.

You let out a horrified gasp and firmly place a hand on his shoulder. “My dear Jeffrey. Fear not. I will show you the wonders of whipped cream made from scratch.”

Jeff chuckles at your determined expression. “When you tell me to fear not, I will fear anyway.” He boops your nose, causing you to scrunch it in response 

You grin and push him towards the shelves. “Can you grab the hand mixer while I get the cream and sugar?”

“Yes, boss.” Jeff mock salutes and marches the five-step journey to the hand mixer. You giggle at his silliness, and the way his expression brightens does not go unnoticed.

“Alright, we’re going to add some sugar and vanilla to our cream before we whip it.” You eyeball the amount of powdered sugar and add a splash of vanilla extract.

“Ooh, sounds kinky,” Jeff teases. You shake your head, but you can’t stop the smile stretching across your face.

“Pay attention,” you admonish. “This is the step where you can make the final adjustments to the taste.” You dip your pinkie into the mixture and pop it into your mouth. The cream is sweet but not enough to make your teeth ache. The rich taste of vanilla is always a delight. You hum a noise of approval and turn towards Jeff.  “I think it’s sweet enough. What do you—”

Jeff kisses you, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He pulls away and licks his lips. “Mhmm, tastes good to me.” His smug grin douses gasoline on the fire consuming your body.

“Jeffrey Hodek, you are an absolute menace.” He’s going to be the death of you, and he won’t even have to stab or shoot you to do it.

“Always the same song and dance with you, doll. I know you liked it.” And to prove his point, he kisses you again. The way his tongue runs over your gums elicits a moan from you. He pulls away, and you avoid eye contact. The smirk on his face is baiting you for another kiss. 

“Whip cream. Now .” Your tone is firm. Any more teasing and you might just combust.

“Alright, alright.” Jeff picks up the hand mixer and sets it into the bowl. He’s about to turn it on but pauses. “And how do I know when to stop?”

“When you get stiff peaks.”  And you immediately realize what you’ve done. Jeff snickers and you become increasingly embarrassed.  “It’s not funny!” You cross your arms with a frown.

Jeff bumps his hips lightly against yours. “C’mon, sugar. You have to admit, baking sounds like it has a lotta euphemisms.”

“Just hold the bowl upside-down over your head. If you don’t get drenched in whipped cream, then it’s ready.” If the whipped cream can hold its shape, it should barely move in the bowl. 

Jeff blinks and says nothing for a few seconds. His brows furrow and he searches your face. “You’re fucking with me again, right?” He sees the saccharine smile on your lips. “Oh, you’re definitely not fucking with me. What kinda method is that? What if I spill cream everywhere?”

“What was that? Was that… a euphemism ?” You let out a dramatic gasp. “Then I would say you need more practice,” you add with a grin. 

“Piss off.” Jeff grunts and turns on the hand mixer. 

“Ok! I’ll come back then to check on you during my next break!” You kiss his cheek and make your way back to the front. 

Jeff freezes. “B-but the whipped cream?” His voice pitches and you feel a slight pang of pity. He did tease you a lot earlier, so the feeling is soon squashed. 

“Stick it in the fridge when it’s done and you’ll be fine!” you say over your shoulder.  You give Jeff a thumbs up, and he only replies with an indignant noise. 

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

“Mrs. Smith, I told you that you can’t buy all my pies.” The old lady who bought seven pies from you is back, and she wants the rest of your stock. 

“I’m too old for ‘Mrs’ now, dear. Everyone calls me Granny. As I was saying, I’m holding an annual crochet competition, and I need your pies.” She offers no further explanation, fully expecting you to give in to her demands. 

“I’ve already sold you seven pies. Surely you don’t need all of them,” you say with exasperation in your tone. Your reasoning only increases her determination. 

“Baker, I am going into a crochet competition, and I need all your pies.” You can only assume the pies are for herself, and what does someone even do with 20 pies?

“You can’t eat all those pies, Mrs. Smith. There are too many,” you tell her. But it seems your insistence is only agitating her. 

“I’m telling you, dear, I’m going into a crochet competition! I’m going into a crochet competition, and I need all your pies if I’m to win!” She is hysterical now. Are pies to old ladies who crochet what steroids are to athletes? Even if it is for a group of people, seven pies seem like a reasonable amount to you. 

Still, you refuse. “I can’t give you all my pies because they’re not meant to be sold in bulk! If I let one person buy all the pies, then that leaves nothing for everyone else.” You could make some quick cash if you sold her all your pies, but there’s something clearly deranged about this woman. Your gut is telling you not to sell her any more pies. 

“Well, then that’s it, Baker. I’ll go elsewhere for my pies.” She storms out of the cafe, and the bell above the door smacks against the wooden frame. 

“What a weird lady,” you mumble to yourself, unable to shake off the feeling of déjà vu. You glance at the clock and notice it’s 5pm. “I think that’s enough for today.” You untie your apron and drape it across the counter. “Hey, Jeff! I’m closing up the cafe now!” You begin counting the money in the cash register. 

“You want any help?” Jeff asks, poking his head from the kitchen doorway. 

“Yes, please.” And so Jeff cleans the tables and puts up the chairs. You sweep the floor while Jeff puts away whatever leftovers he can for the next day. Anything that’s not good after a day is often donated to the nearest shelter, or Jeff will take it for the kids to eat. Once the front is cleaned up, it’s time for the kitchen. You walk ahead of Jeff, but he gently grabs your arm and tugs you back. 

“Wait here,” Jeff commands.  He shields the doorway with his body. 

You look at him with suspicion. “You didn’t break something in my kitchen, did you?” Kitchen equipment is stupidly expensive, and you don’t want to replace anything right now. 

Jeff scoffs. “I’m not that incompetent.” He takes both of your hands and squeezes them. “Close your eyes.”

You shake your head but follow his instructions. “I’m closing them.” Your shoes squeak as they transition from wood to tile. Jeff leads you steadily inside the kitchen. He lets go of your hands and tells you to wait. You stand there patiently, hearing the rummaging of utensils and plates. You fidget with the hem of your shirt, curiosity turning into anticipation. 

“Surprise.” At Jeff’s words, you open your eyes. He’s holding a small bundle of the skewers you use for tiered cakes. At the tips of the skewers are strawberries cut into the shape of roses. 

“Jeff… how did—they’re beautiful!” You marvel at the delicate knife work that went into cutting each petal. 

Jeff pushes the bouquet towards you. “I got bored after making the whipped cream.  Saw the strawberries and thought I could put my knife skills to use,” he says with a shrug. 

You reach out to accept the bundle of strawberries but pause. “Your hands!” One of your hands takes the bouquet while the other holds Jeff’s hand. You examine the skin and see small slices. You chew on your bottom lip and look at him for an explanation. 

“Just some scratches,” he mumbles and avoids your gaze. “Turns out cutting fruit into flowers takes a lot more dexterity than stabbing people.” He shrugs in a carefree manner. You think back to how long you left Jeff alone and unsupervised. A few hours, at least. 

 You drag him with you. “I have some bandages in the bathroom—and disinfectant! We need to clean your wounds and—” Jeff stills, and suddenly, you can’t move him. He grips your shoulders. 

“Relax, sweetheart. I’m fine.” Jeff shows you his hands, turning them over.  “See? They’re already sealed. I won’t say no to you kissing them better, though.” His eyes look at you pitifully, and the slight pout on his lips is irresistible. 

You make grabby motions at him. “Well, bring them here, then. I’ll give them many smooches.” Jeff puts his hands in front of your face, and you shower them with kisses, cut or no cut. He looks at you like you’re everything to him, and you melt on the spot. This man is too adorable for his own good. “Thank you for the ‘flowers’. It’s very sweet of you.” You resist the urge to eat them right away; the guilt you would feel during the fallout would be tremendous. 

Jeff shakes his head and kisses your forehead. “If anyone’s sweet, it’s you, sugar. You could give me a toothache with your sweetness.” You flush under his attention. They say that the human pupil will dilate when looking at a person they like. Jeff’s eyes are a ring of green swallowed by black right now, and you’re sure it’s the same for yourself. There’s something intimate about maintaining eye contact with someone for an extended period of time. You stand there, unable to tear your gaze from his. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and you pull him in for a kiss. You can feel him smile, and a giggle bubbles in the back of your throat.

You pull away first and place another kiss on his wounded hand. “Alright, hot stuff. Enough flirting, more decorating.” You lead him to the counter where you’ve set everything up beforehand. The ‘flowers’ are placed in a mason jar to keep them upright and out of the way.

Jeff looks intimidated by all the different tools on the counter. You tried to select the bare minimum required for cake decorating. His shoulders loosen when he sees the encouraging smile on your face. “I’ve never decorated a cake before. I’m honestly fucking ecstatic right now,” Jeff says.

“I’ll cut the cake, and you can assemble the layers,” you say, grabbing your trusty knife.

An amused smile crosses Jeff’s face. “I’m the one with the exceptional knife skills.”

You shake your head. “Nuh-uh. Not after you cut yourself up making strawberry roses. Besides, I don’t want you to feel disappointed if the layers end up lopsided.” Cutting a cake into layers can be hard . Why else are there so many hacks and gadgets specifically made for this? There was a time when you used the dental floss method (unflavoured because an unintentionally minty cake is yucky). Now that you’re experienced, you can perfectly level and cut cakes with a knife. 

Jeff ponders and says, “So if the cake gets fucked up, it’s your fault.”

“Jeff!”

“That’s basically what you said!” Jeff throws up his hands. 

You scoff and shove a baking spatula into his chest. “I’m going to make you eat your words.” 

The smirk on his face fans the flames. “Challange accepted, doll.”

“Now shut up and start layering,” you command, already slicing through the second cake.

Jeff examines and turns over the spatula in his hand. “You haven’t told me what to do. Do I just slather shit on the cake? Throw cherries at it? Commit a blood sacrifice?” He pokes you in the ribs, and you jump, nearly stabbing him with the knife you’re holding. You give him the side eye, and he grins like he wasn’t this close to being levelled himself.

“Brush some cherry syrup on the cake before adding a layer of whipped cream. Then add some cherries and the next layer of cake. Rinse and repeat until there are no more layers.” You break the layering down into simple steps, adding any tips you think he would find helpful. Jeff nods, but you can already tell that most of what you said went in one ear and out the other. “Normally, I sacrifice a virgin at the end, but I ran out of stock yesterday,” you say, shrugging in a what-can-you-do manner. Jeff straightens. Well, he definitely heard that step.

Jeff chuckles and begins painting the top of the layer of cake with syrup. “You are fucking adorable.” The smile on his face is full of fondness. Next, he spreads the whipped cream and adds the cherries. “This is oddly satisfying,” Jeff comments, finding the process therapeutic.

“I know, right?! I love decorating, but sometimes I'm too lazy to bake anything.” You laugh at the irony of your statement. You notice Jeff was struggling earlier at spreading an even layer of whipped cream. “Here, let me show you something.” You inch closer, and he takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist. Grabbing the plate of the turntable, you spin it as you smoothly spread whipped cream on the cake.

Jeff’s jaw drops. He looks at you in bewilderment. “It sPiNs?!?!” 

You giggle at his reaction and nod. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“No fucking way. I told you. Witchcraft ,” he hisses the last part. Jeff spends the next minute spinning the cake in one direction before spinning it again in the opposite way. He finishes all the layering, and what’s left is a naked cake. “Do we get to add more cherries?” he asks.

“Yeah, give me a minute to pipe some whipped cream at the top,” you answer. You also decide to give the entire cake a thin coat of whipped cream. When Jeff sees you pipe whipped cream, he insists on giving it a try. His first attempt results in a ginormous blob. You smooth it out with the spatula and comfort him while he sulks. The next few attempts have much more control and turn out decent. “Do you want to add more chocolate? I can quickly shave some.”

Jeff grins. “Do you even have to ask?” And so you shave some chocolate while Jeff carefully places the cherries on top of the cake. 

“It’s a monstrosity,” you say when you look at the finished product. For some reason, you thought it would be a good idea to give Jeff control over how much chocolate is added. You can barely see the whipped cream beneath all the chocolate shavings. Thankfully, the top is left untouched, so only the sides are buried.

Jeff puffs out his chest. “Yeah, but it’s our monstrosity. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He cuts himself a slice and takes a bite. Too bad this isn’t a cooking anime. You would have liked to see Jeff’s soul dramatically leave his body or whatever weird stimulation the characters go through when they taste a dish. “Holy shit, this should be illegal.”

“Good?” You cut yourself a slice, already knowing his answer.

Jeff takes another bite and closes his eyes. “Fucking delicious .” He moans, and you nearly have a fit over how sexual the sounds he’s making are. You eat your slice slowly, content with watching Jeff enjoy the cake. When he finishes, he immediately goes to cut a second piece.

“Are you going to take the rest to Liu and the kids later?” you ask. If there even is anything left to take. He’s going to demolish the cake at this point. 

Jeff grins sheepishly. “Would it be selfish of me to keep this for myself?”

You shrug and wipe away the whipped cream at the corner of his mouth. “I won’t judge you, but the kids will give you hell for it if they ever find out.” Never underestimate the wrath of children. Especially when they discover you withheld sugar from them.

Jeff exhales loudly. “Fuck, you’re right.” He points his fork at you. “I have to get rid of any witnesses to prevent them from finding out.” You lean forward and eat the piece of cake off his fork. Jeff gapes at you while you smugly chew. The mock betrayal in his eyes elicits a giggle from you. 

“I can always bake you more, which I won’t be able to if you get rid of me,” you say.

Jeff kisses the side of your head. You whine and try to shove him away, much to his amusement. “You’re contractually obligated to keep that promise now,” he says.

You blink slowly, brushing crumbs out of your hair. “But I didn’t sign anything?”

Jeff caresses your cheek and says, “It’s a verbal agreement.” His words hold a tone of finality. 

You hum and lean into his touch. “But what are the rules? The duration? Honestly, this is a terrible contract.” You smile brightly despite desperately trying to frown.

Jeff leans his forehead against yours, bringing his lips tantalizingly close. “Don’t act like you hate the idea of spending the rest of your life with me.” His warm breath fans over your mouth.

You hum and decide to tease him some more. “Jeffrey Hodek, are you proposing? How unconventional of you.”

Jeff chuckles in disbelief and bites his lip afterwards. “Sweetheart, I don’t need a ring to know I’m yours. But that’s a conversation for another time.” He pecks your lips before darting to the fridge. You feel bamboozled until you recognize what he takes out. “C’mon, it’s getting late. I sneaked out earlier and bought a bottle of your favourite drink. How about we stuff ourselves with more cake while you vent about your day? I’ll even run you a bath, and we can cuddle after.”

“That sounds amazing,” you admit. The aches and pains in your body feel more prominent at the mention of a bath. Jeff packs the rest of the cake, and you remember to grab the strawberry roses before you leave. The idea of candying the strawberries did pop into your head at some point. You think Jeff would be interested in the process. But for now, you just want to go home and cuddle with Jeff. He holds your hand on the way to the car. “There was an old lady today who was very adamant about my pies….” 

You continue to tell Jeff about the notable interactions you had today. You remain unaware of the box he’s fingering in his pocket.

 ─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

The first fanfic I ever wrote was for JTK (I never posted it and never will), so this is kinda a redemption for my younger self. I'm honestly just glad that I managed to finish this so my eyes don't have to glaze over anymore when I read it for edits.

Personally, I do not find the yandere trope attractive, specifically for reader inserts. I don't mind if it's for other characters, but when it's a reader insert... I just don't understand the appeal. I can enjoy it when it's in a comedic context, but it's a complete turn-off for me in romance. I respect the trope, but I don't think I'll ever understand why people like it.

So a question for people who read/write those kinds of stories: What about it appeals to you?

See you guys at my next hyperfixation! ヾ(￣▽￣)

Reblogs are appreciated!

[dawnagustd]

strings || ksj

◈ Part of the Resolution Revolution Collab hosted by @jimilter​ & @knjsnoona​ . ↳ AU/character trope: strangers to lovers, single parent, lives at the office ceo, struggling waitress

Prompt:  “So, how about you make me the first mistake of the year?”

→ pairing: ceo/dilf!seokjin x female reader → genre: a touch of angst, fluff, smut → au/trope: stranger to lovers, pwp, bad habits universe → summary: After getting ditched by your friends at a New Year’s Eve party, you and Seokjin decide it’s best to stick together—since neither of you are in the partying mood. You two may be from different worlds, but you have at least one thing in common. It’s been ages since you’ve had a decent hook up, so why not bring in the new year putting an end to your dry spell? There is one rule, however. When the morning comes, you both have to go separate ways—and carry on as if it never happened. → rating: 18+ → word count: 5k → warnings:  mentions alcohol, hookups, protected sex, face fucking, soft dom!jin...or maybe hard idk anymore lol, sub!reader, grinding, oral sex, biting, marking, scratching, dirty talk, throat fucking, light choking, gagging, impact play/slapping, rough sex, manhandling, hair pulling, reverse cowgirl, doggystyle, ass play, slight double penetration, pain kink, orgasm control/denial, breast play, light degradation, multiple orgasms, slight cockwarming, slight female masturbation, awkward morning after talk lol...i think that's all. please let me know if i missed something

→ a/n: It’s finally here!!!! I’ve procrastinated a lot with this but here it is. This is a little spin off to Bad Habits but it can be read alone. Thank you Isi @raplinesmoon​ for looking over this for me; I really appreciate it!! Thanks to Ash and Amelia for hosting! Love y’all!!

Bad Habits - Masterlist - Ask Box - Taglist Form (no emails collected)

Every single time.

These parties always result in the same outcome. Your best friend always gets drunk and sneaks off with her asshole ex-boyfriend. Sure, they’re all laughs and giggles now but in the morning, the both of them will be torn up over each other. It’s how they play; they fuck then they argue. Whoever says the most hurtful shit to the other, wins this round. 

As if you don’t have your own problems to deal with right now, you sure as hell don’t need to be caught in the middle of their shit. You’re dreading tomorrow, and you curse yourself for not finding Hoseok fast enough. He was supposed to be your scapegoat for tonight, but now he’s too busy shoving his tongue in some—

“Looking for someone worth your time?”

When a voice suddenly grabs your attention, your head snaps towards its owner. How you managed to not notice the tall handsome guy standing next to you will forever be a mystery. He sticks out like a sore thumb. 

From his professionally styled dark hair down to his tailored suit and expensive shoes, the man reeks of wealth and power. Although, you can’t help but find his face to be—familiar?

“Staring is rude, sweetheart. Has anyone ever told you that?” His confidence is as dominant as his Sauvage Dior cologne. A scent you only know of because your favorite customer wears it daily.

“I–uhh…”

He’s a cocky rich business man with a wife and kids; you can only assume the gentleman in front of you is the same. So why aren’t you heading in the opposite direction already? You look like an idiot just standing here, gawking over a complete stranger. 

“I-I’m sorry. I was just looking for a friend—”

“Seokjin.”

“Excuse me?” You’re taken aback by his rude interruption, as if you asked him for his name in the first place. 

“My name. It’s Seokjin. In case you ever want to say hello.” He turns to you, folding his arms as he casually leans against the wall. “You’re Taehyung’s friend, right? I remember you coming over to my parents’ place when we were kids.”

You thought he resembled someone you knew, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Your friend Taehyung used to always invite everyone over to his father’s colleague's house to swim. The couple who owned the mansion did have a son but you’ve only met him twice.

“Wait. You’re Mr. Kim’s kid?” 

The man shakes his head, chuckling softly to himself like he just heard an inside joke.

“Not anymore, sweetheart. I am Mr. Kim.” His eyes twinkle with amusement. 

You should slap yourself for allowing a random guy to get a reaction out of you. His ego is already through the roof and you’re only fueling it with the attention you’re giving him.

“That’s good for you. Well it’s nice meeting you, Mr. Kim.” Before you can depart, a hand grabs your arm. 

“Hey, wait a second.” Seokjin pulls you back to where you’re standing, granting himself a nasty scoff from you.

“I don’t care who you think you are but do not ever touch me,” you warn him, and his hands raise in defeat.

“Sorry, I just figured you were bored with all of this. I was going to offer an alternative.” His smirk screams bad decisions, but his eyes are enticing.

Unfortunately for him, you aren’t going to be his easy lay for tonight and he’ll have to go try the whole “sleep with me because I have money” plan on someone else wasted enough to fall for it.

“An alternative?” you repeat. Seokjin nods, resuming his position near the wall. The lopsided smile on his face is still present, letting you know he’s not giving up without a fight. “Let me guess…”

You mimic his stance, leaning all of your weight on the wall as you stand in front of him. It’s only then when you realize how tall he is compared to you. He seems to be having the same revelation as his eyes begin to examine you thoroughly. This dress cost you more than you wanted it to so you’ll look past him boldly checking you out for now. At least you look good in it, right?

“...you want to take me up to one of the guest rooms then fuck me until I pass out and forget who you are and how I ended up there?” you predict.

He seems a bit offended by your assumption but you know it’s an act. Guys like him don’t have feelings.

“Do I seem like that kind of guy?”

“Do I look like that kind of girl?” you challenge.

He moves closer, leaning in so far that he invades your personal space. You won’t lie and say your heart rate didn’t pick up a bit. His eyes linger on your throat as you gulp due the intensity of his stare. You’re taken over completely by the dominance that oozes from his body. It penetrates your skin, leaving a hint of desire coursing through your bloodstream. He’s hot, without a doubt. But is he worth it?

“I asked you first, sweetheart.”

When he finally says something, you snap out of your thoughts. Looking up at him, you’re amazed by his handsome features. He looks ethereal compared to most guys you’ve met. It makes you wonder why he’s here in the first place, and why is he talking to someone like you. Surely, there are more suitable women at this party. 

“Tell me. Do I look like someone who likes to hookup at parties?” His body shifts and corners you. 

Your back now faces the wall and he towers over you, waiting for a response that you’re struggling to come up with. His presence alone is enough to make your legs tremble slightly, but the intensity of his stare gives you goosebumps. He notices how your demeanor has changed, and your body’s reaction to his closeness seems to excite him. “Are you going to leave me waiting for an answer, sweetheart? That’s not nice at all.”

You clear your throat, attempting to regain your composure but you fail when he places his hand on the wall, only inches away from your head. You look to your left and the first thing you notice is the Rolex on his wrist. You’ve seen hundreds in your line of work but this one exceeds them all. 

From there you follow the thick veins that branch out along his large hand, and once your eyes reach the long slender digits that are well groomed and manicured to perfection, your mouth begins to move without much thought.

“No. I guess you don’t look like the type. My mistake.” Your attention is brought back to him when his other hand gently turns your head in his direction.

His lips quirk slightly with a soft scoff, barely audible over the upbeat music blasting through the speakers. You somehow get lost in the way his tongue darts out to moisten his lips. They’re so soft and delicate—two pink pillows of perfection. You wonder if they feel as good as they look.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Huh? Oh-Nothing. I was just—”

“Thinking about sitting on my face?” Seokjin’s interruption leaves you speechless and your mouth silently falls open. He casually retracts from you and rests his frame on the wall beside you, looking at the partygoers like the conversation you’re having is as innocent as chatting about the weather. “You could, you know? I’d let you.”

His head lolls to the side so he can look at you. You’re frozen in the moment. You knew he was bold but damn. No one has ever.

“You’d have to work hard for that seat, though. And I don’t think you have it in you,” he adds.

“You’re crazy,” you laugh dryly, believing he’s just joking. When your head turns towards him, you find him already looking at you.

“No, I’m horny, and you are too.”

“What makes you think that?” Your arms fold at your chest and you face him, trying to appear annoyed.

“Because…” Seokjin mimics your actions and shifts his position. “You’re still here and you’re still talking to me. You wouldn’t be if you were uncomfortable or weren’t considering leaving with me.”

He does have a point. Most guys don’t get five seconds of your time and you’ve been chatting here with him for quite a while. Your friends would be proud of you, but you aren’t sure you want to take things further. Hooking up with strangers isn’t really your thing.

“Why would I leave here with someone I barely know?” you challenge.

“The same reason I’m inviting someone I barely know into my home. I trust you, sweetheart. What can I do to get you to trust me?”

He has your tongue tied for a brief moment, but you’re quick to recover. “Buy me diamonds.”

“Is it really that easy, sweetheart?”

“No. But it buys me enough time to ditch you,” you retort.

Seokjin chuckles, clutching his stomach. “Damn, you sure can crack a whip.”

“If that’s what you’re into.” You roll your eyes.

Seokjin nods his head and slips his hand in his pants pocket. You’re secretly eyeing his movements, trying to figure him out but he just keeps surprising you.

“Look, you know me. I’m Seokjin; the divorced, single father of three version,” he announces, giving a small smile as a peace offering. “I own half the buildings downtown and I’ve got a place not too far from here. I’m not looking for anything serious right now, but my friends say a little bit of fun wouldn’t kill me.”

“We really do have the same friends,” you scoff, thinking about your best friend’s words from earlier. “I guess we both are in desperate need of getting laid, huh?”

“Hell, yeah,” he agrees, coming closer and towering over you. He tucks some hair behind your ear and provides a devilish smirk. 

“I think hooking up is a horrible idea.” You look at the crowd to distract yourself from his handsome features but he redirects your attention back to his face by lifting your chin.

“Is that how you feel or is that what you think?” he quizzes and you shrug.

You feel like you can be honest with him, so you do. “I’ve played by my rules for so long, you know?...Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I broke them.”

The way his strong arm wraps around your waist makes your legs tremble and his intense gaze makes you want to squirm in your panties. He’s so hot, so sexy and enticing. You can no longer resist.

“So, how about you make me the first mistake of the year?”

Your mind replays his words about a million times before you answer, and even you are surprised by your response.

“Fuck it.” Seokjin blinks a few times, trying to make sure he heard you correctly. “Let’s go.”

You make an attempt to pull away, but his hold strengthens slightly. “I have a rule, though.”

“Okay…What is it?” The annoyance in your tone is only fueled by eagerness. You’re about ready to rip his clothes off right here.

“No strings attached. Tomorrow, it never happened?” 

You couldn’t agree more. In fact, you plan to be gone before he wakes up to save yourself from the walk of shame.

“Deal.”

Seokjin then escorts you out of the party, leaving behind a bunch of curious eyes and hushed whispers.

The icy comforter splayed over Seokjin’s bed feels heavenly against your skin. The heat radiating from your body is driven by nothing but lust. You would think the moisture of Seokjin’s plush lips would offer some relief. However, they only fuel the burning desire deep within your core. 

He’s stripped you down to nothing, but most of his clothing still remains. You want, no, you need him to get rid of the damn things—and soon.

“Take these off,” you plead, tugging at the red fabric of his shirt. Seokjin ignores you, and continues marking your skin with his teeth. You’ll find a trail of bruised flesh along your neck and chest tomorrow, but right now you cannot find a care. “I want to feel you.”

He reluctantly pulls away and positions himself on his knees, resting your bottom on his lap while he undresses. Slowly, he snaps the buttons of his shirt one by one as he stares down at you. Seokjin’s eyes are drunk with lust, and all you can see in his dark orbs is a small glimmer from the moonlight shining in his master bedroom. 

“Funny how an hour ago you didn’t want me to touch you, and now you’re cunt’s chasing my cock.” You follow his eyes to where your bodies meet and notice how your lower body unconsciously grinds against him.

You sink into the mattress, attempting to hide your embarrassment by looking away. 

“Hey,” he whispers ever so gently when he’s back on top of you. His lips are pressed against the shell of your ear, giving you tingles  and leaving you no choice but to look his way. “You’re good. At least I know you want me as badly as I want you.”

Seokjin kisses your lips, getting you back in the groove and taking your mind away from all your worries. His strong grip guides your hips to create the same movement from before while you work to lift his tee shirt. You pull him closer, smiling when his sculpted abs come in contact with your body. 

You both shift and maneuver to take it off and once it’s discarded, you’re able to examine what was hiding under his expensive clothing. You know what they say, a king must wear the finest threads. Not only is he handsome; he’s a masterpiece—from his smooth skin to his muscular frame.

“While I’m getting these off, do me a favor and grab us a few condoms from the nightstand, sweetheart,” he tells you, climbing off the bed to remove his pants.

“How many rounds are we going?” you inquire, pulling the foiled wrappers from the box. There’s only about four in there so you just take the entire strip. Before you can turn to him, he steps behind you and wraps his arm around your waist.

“As many as you can handle.” His nose nuzzles in your hair and he grabs the condoms from your hand.

He’s completely naked. You can feel the tip of his cock brush against your back; now your curiosity is running wild.

“My stamina’s pretty high,” you answer, turning to explore his body. Your eyes travel directly to his dick, and what you discover leaves you salivating. “Oh my god.”

Your hand immediately reaches out to touch it. The smooth silky texture mixed with the pulsing heat feels heavenly in your palm. You give it a few strokes and watch the precum ooze to the surface. Seokjin’s mouth opens to protest when you drop to your knees, but any fight he has gets robbed with one kitten lick up his leaking slit.

His arousal gathers on your tongue, and you purposefully stick it out to show him everything you’ve collected before you swallow it down. You repeat the action, but this time you venture further and drag your wet muscle along his entire length. He curses and tucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Is that how it’s going to be, baby? You’re going to be a little tease?” Seokjin sighs as he runs a hand through his dark strands. “And here I am trying to play nice tonight…”

He grabs your hair and snatches your head away from him, making you look up at his handsome features. His right hand holds his dick and he uses its girth to slap your cheek.

“Open your fucking mouth, and hurry up about it,” he orders. Seokjin does not give you a second after your lips spread wide enough to accommodate him before he positions himself at your opening and thrusts deeply.

Your body reacts quickly, relaxing your jaw to allow a clear passage to the back of your throat. He shoves as much inside of you as he can before he pulls out and slams into you again, making his heavy sac slap your chin due to the impact. You try to keep your focus on him but eventually your eyes begin to roll back.

A familiar tightness forms in your gut, indicating you’re heading straight towards an orgasmic high and you have no clue of what triggered it. Seokjin grunts are almost as loud as the lewd noises emitting from your throat each time he hits your uvula. 

You look at him with pleading eyes while your fingers eagerly plunge into your pussy. Now the squelching of your slick fills the room, and Seokjin’s cock twitches inside of your mouth. He quickly pulls out, much to your dismay.

“But we were close,” you whine as he pulls you up by your hair and roughly tosses you on the bed.

“I don’t care. All fours, sweetheart. Let’s go.” Seokjin crawls on the bed behind you, tearing one of the condom wrappers with his teeth. When he’s done rolling it on, he looks at you with confusion. “Something wrong?”

He notices you haven’t moved, and he’s displeased by your disobedience.

“I wanna ride you,” you respond. He seems taken aback by your response, but doesn’t say anything and your nerves eat at you again. “If that’s okay,” you add.

He ponders over the theory but ultimately crawls towards the pillows and lies on his back. 

“I must really like you. Hop on it, sweetheart.”  You straddle him, reverse cowgirl style, and he’s quick to slap your ass and grab handfuls of the supple flesh. “That’s what I’m talking about. Show me how this pussy takes my cock.”

Seokjin holds his length in his hand and waits for you to sink on it. You take your time and lower yourself so he doesn’t stretch you too quickly. Inch after inch is filled with a burning pleasure that penetrates deep inside of you and you’re moaning before you’ve even started moving.

“Seokjin,” you call his name while you’re gently rocking back and forth, testing the waters and getting familiar with him.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he whispers, kneading your globes with his large hand.

“You feel so good.” Your back arches when his finger runs down your spine and ventures between your cheeks, probing at your back entrance with little pressure. You roll your hips, finding the rhythm that works for the both of you before you begin to bounce on his throbbing shaft. “You’re so big, so fucking deep.”

“Oh, yeah?” His thumb continues to tease your rim while his other fingers hook around your hips, guiding you back on his finger but never pushing it into your clenching hole. “You feel good too, baby. You’re squeezing the hell out of me.”

Your movements start to pick up with his encouragement and you’re very aware of how his finger presses harder at your entrance each time you come down on him. Your body craves to be filled in every possible way and you aren’t sure if he’s just teasing or trying to be gentle with you.

“Seokjin, please. Just do it already. I’m into that,” you moan breathlessly. His thumb gathers some of your sticky juices and travels back to your entrance before he slowly intrudes.

Your cries become louder, probably disturbing the surrounding neighborhood but Seokjin doesn’t attempt to shut you up. The new feeling is so intense, you have to dig your nails in his thighs to prevent yourself from floating away. 

His other hand then slaps your ass, snapping you back to reality with his harsh tone.

“Faster. Harder. Ride this dick like you love it, sweetheart.” Seokjin starts moving his finger in and out of you at the same pace you’re riding him, and you meet every single one of his strokes when you come down. “...because we already know you do. Don’t you?”

Your tits bounce wildly and you reach up to hold them to get them under control. However, Seokjin has other plans.

“Answer me!”

He delivers another blow to your bottom, making you hiss and arch into his touch. His finger slips out of your rear and both his hands grip your waist. You squeak when he suddenly sits up and guides you forward.

“Don’t you hear me talking to you? Speak up, whore!” Seokjin slams into you and continues pounding you like he never stopped. You’re on your stomach, gripping the sheets to brace yourself for each thrust. 

“Seokjin!” you moan his name when the grasp he has on your hair strengthens.

“Oh, you like that, huh? You wanna get treated like a whore.” 

He lifts your hips and pushes your face down, muffling your cries. You can feel the muscles in your stomach beginning to tighten due Seokjin repeatedly hitting your g-spot. The pain and pleasure combined is too much for you to handle and you call out a warning to let him know you’re nearing your release. However, Seokjin has other plans.

“You better hold it.” 

He pulls out and quickly flips you over, spreading your legs wide enough to fit himself in between. Your disappointed whimpers are silenced by his soft lips pressed against yours and the feeling of his cock stretching you open once more. “Look at me when you come, so you can remember who gave you the best fuck of your life.”

Seokjin then pulls out and slams into your center, penetrating deep into your womb. You both look down to watch the blunt tip of his cock bulging in your belly. The air is knocked right out of you and you’re left gasping after he wraps those slender fingers around your throat.

“I-I...I don’t t-think I can hold it,” you inform but he ignores you.

“Of course, you can, whore. This is probably the only thing you can do right. Lie on your back and take cock like a good little slut.” 

You start seeing stars when his other hand reaches forward and pinches your sensitive nipple. The sting travels through your entire body, but is quickly washed away with euphoria. The satisfied noises leaving your lips makes him do it once again, but this time to the other one, and your back arches off the bed.

“Now, you’re just trying to get me to fall in love,” he comments, picking up the pace of his movements. There’s motivation and drive in his powerful thrusts, indicating he’s also close to his orgasm. “Come on…”

He slaps your breast and squeezes your throat. “Tell me how good this dick is. I wanna hear how much you like it,” he says, lifting your leg to put it over his shoulder.

You stare into his eyes as his face comes only inches away from yours. The strength in his forearms is the only thing preventing him from crushing you.

“It feels so good, Seokjin,” you whisper.

“Yeah?” He slams into you and stills. You can feel his cock twitching inside of you.

You nod. “The best. I’ve never had better.”

“What a shame.” Without another word, he begins chasing his high. You aren’t too far behind so by the time he’s squirting his load into the condom, you’re vigorously rubbing your clit and milking him of every ounce of his cum. “Goddamn, this pussy is fucking heaven.”

Your orgasm intensifies his sensitivity, and his nails dig into your thighs when your walls contort around his pulsing length. You fall limp once you’ve calmed down and Seokjin repositions you so you can lie on the pillows.

“Do you need anything?...You can shower if you want,” he offers, peeling off the condom and tossing it in the trash bin.

“That’d be great, but I'd rather wait until after,” you answer.

He pauses. “After, what?”

You prop yourself on your elbows and smirk at the way his eyes can’t stop staring at your naked body. 

“I mean…I’m not tired, Seokjin.”

He smiles. “That’s great, sweetheart. But—ohh.”

Realization hits him when you point at the unused condoms.

“Unless you’re tired. I understand if you…can’t keep up,” you giggle. A growl erupts from his throat and he pounces on you in a split second.

“You really wanna taunt me like that? Because I can easily make you tap out,” he threatens.

You stare up at him with mischief dancing across your features.

“Prove it.”

And he does. You don’t even remember falling asleep or him pulling the covers over you. It isn’t until the morning sunshine and early birds distant chirping awaken you from your slumber that you realize you've spent the night at Seokjin’s place.

An arm is draped over your body and his firm chest is pressed against your back. You try to think of a strategy to slip away but panic sets in when your best friend’s number appears across your screen. Last night she was with Yoongi and your mind travels to the worst. There’s no choice but to reach out and grab it from the nightstand so the vibrations don’t wake him up.

After unlocking it, you find about 15 missed calls and over 30 text messages from her and several other people.

Bestie: …hey! don’t worry about me. Yoongi and i talked. we’re good

Bestie: tell you about it later?

Hana: girl!!!! DID YOU JUST WALK OUT OF HERE WITH SEOKJIN!!!

Hana: i’m so proud of you bitch!! go get that rich daddy dick!!!

Bestie: jimin told yoongi that Seokjin took you home! I need every fucking detail!

Bestie: omgeeee…no response? you’re totally getting dicked down rn!! 

Bestie: yoongi said he’ll pay you to slip seokjin’s waffle maker in your purse on your way out!!!

Bestie: i’m gonna sleep now before we soil the sheets anymore. but i’m so happy for you. You deserve to have some fun…love you much!!!

Before you can cringe anymore, you lock your phone and prepare to sneak out without waking the man behind you. Unfortunately, that plan fails.

“Fans of yours?”

God, why is his sleepy voice so sexy? You set your phone back on the table and sit up so you can lean against the headboard.

“Uhh, more like a clown posse,” you laugh awkwardly. You shift so you can see the wall clock. When you notice that it’s past 9 am, you start peeling back the covers. You should leave soon since you have work at 1 today.

However, Seokjin grabs your waist before you can swing your legs out of bed.

“Stay a little longer. Let me make you something to eat before you go,” he offers.

You shake your head. “That’s okay. I have work today and I better leave now if I don’t want to be late.”

“How are you getting home? Let me drive you and I’ll treat you to coffee or breakfast—”

“That’s okay, Seokjin. Thank you, but it’s easier for me if I just leave on my own. I’m not used to hooking up with people so my anxiety is pretty high right now.”

Seokjin doesn’t say anything at first, but still pulls you closer. To your surprise, you allow him to wrap his arms around you and soothe you through your worries.

“...About that stuff we talked about at the party. I was wondering if we could negotiate.” 

“What do you mean?” Your question is followed by silence. Seokjin thinks over his words before he speaks, and you wait as patiently as you can.

Ultimately, he sighs and says what’s on his mind.

“I want to offer you a job,” he confesses.

“I’m not a sugar baby or a prostitute.” You give him a stern look and his eyes widen.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant, sweetheart.” He sits up immediately and turns his body towards you. “Listen, I know you’re struggling with some things; I’ve seen my share of people down on their luck.”

You scoff. “Is it that obvious?”

“You were at a party with your calculator open, sweetheart. I’m sure you weren’t tallying Jimin’s bottles,” Seokjin jokes.

Both of you share a laugh and you notice his windshield wiper squeaks for the first time. It’s cute and you can tell he’s a humorous person. His kids probably never have a dull moment with him. 

Silence follows soon after until Seokjin clears his throat. “I have some business out of the country I need to take care of but I still have packages and shipments coming here. I was going to have my assistant check here everyday, but she has enough on her plate.”

“I see.”

“Mmhm…Anyway, I was wondering if you’d be interested in living here for a year? I’d pay you well. There’s no rent and I’ll provide all necessities. You can still keep your job if you want and save up since you won’t have any bills. If you need time to think—”

“I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Disbelief is written all over his face. “I thought I’d have to beg.”

You shake your head. “Last night, I took a leap and trusted my gut. I’m going to give it another try.”

“And what did it tell you?”

You look over at him.

“...Whatever I choose, my fate has already been decided. Might as well live for the moment.”

“Interesting…” Seokjin traces circles on your thigh absentmindedly while he speaks to you. “And what did your gut have to say last night while I was inside of you?”

You sigh. “I don’t know, Seokjin…”

You’re on top of him before he can even react, but he recovers quickly by grabbing your ass.

“...Maybe we should ask it again.”

[angry-geese]

Can I request nsfw+fluff gojo x fem!reader? (established relationships) Just gojo being horny and needy after weeks not seeing reader due to work. (Uuuu and may I add breeding kink too <3 ) Lmaooo what's wrong with me✋🏻😔 I love your works btw and just take your time💕💕 here *slides a cookie 🍪 *

YESSSS gojo + breeding kink is top tier. i got a little carried away with this one lol

When We Meet Again

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: shameless smut. oral (fem receiving), creampies, mating press, unprotected sex, fingering, fluff and smut. slight somnophilia (kinda??) fem!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

jjk masterlist

It's well past midnight by the time he gets home.

Save for a single light in the kitchen, the apartment is dark. Leftover pastries sit out on the counter, covered with a bowl to keep bugs from getting to them, alongside your keys, and an empty mug of tea. A grocery list has been stuck to the fridge. A rack of dishes sits beside the sink, drying.

You're not in your usual spot on the couch. He's not surprised. It's late. And though you don't have work in the morning, you were never one to stay up so long. You must have gone to bed already. You might have stayed up had he bothered to tell you he was coming home. But he didn't. His plans changed at the last moment, and not even he knew he'd be back so soon.

He hates being gone this long. He misses sleeping in his own bed. Sometimes he forgets just how cold a bed can be without someone else in it.

The door to your shared room is open. Though it's dark. There's a faint green glow from the alarm clock on the side table. The moon is full enough tonight to provide a bit of light; a pale silver glow fills the room. And there you are, curled up on his side of the bed. In one of his shirts. A black button up that’s a bit too big for you, with sleeves that hang well past your fingertips.

It's not like he can refuse. If he’s getting called out to help, then there's probably not someone who can go in his place. The strongest doesn't really have time to take a vacation. He’s on call 24/7. Between his teaching job at Jujutsu Tech, and the major clans of Jujutsu society constantly demanding his attention, he’s rather short on free time.

It was a tedious job. Not worth his time. Not particularly tough, albeit time consuming. But the previous two sorcerers came back with nothing. And so he was sent out. Cleaning up someone else's mess.

The first week he called every day. The job wasn’t supposed to take any longer than that. Or so you both assumed. As the second rolled through, your calls grew shorter, and less frequent. He found himself frustrated with the lack of contact. It wasn't either of your faults. Your work called for you to be out during the little free time he had. Overtime. When you did have time to call each other, you were often exhausted, and short with him. The distance was putting a strain on your relationship.

The worst part of it all; he couldn't fuck you. And for a man that could go multiple rounds in a day, that was miserable. His love language is touch. Not being able to hold you was… well, miserable.

You don't really know the extent of the effect you have on him.

He's too tired to change, and he showered before he left, so he strips to his boxers and pulls his side of the blankets aside. Tomorrow is laundry day anyway. You always choose Sundays for laundry day, because that's the day before you have to go back to work. There's just enough room between you and the edge of the bed for him to slip in.

When something makes him stop dead in his tracks.

It's your voice. You’re calling out his name. You aren't awake, and though you do sometimes talk in your sleep, tonight is different. When it does happen, it's usually nonsense. Soft, endearing babble that he can't help but listen to. He says your name, softly, but you don't respond. Enough moonlight streams in through the window to see your face. Your brows are knit in concentration—possibly frustration—and sweat beads in your hairline.

Are you having a nightmare?

The bed dips under his weight as he sits, resting a hand on your thigh. Your skin is rather warm, he notes. You roll over onto your side, burying your face in his pillow. He pulls the blankets up, tucking them around your shoulders, as you’ve kicked them down by your feet in your sleep.

There it is again. You say his name, but there's a level of desperation behind it.

There's no denying the wetness between your thighs. You squeeze your thighs together in an unconscious attempt to get some relief. Your breathing is labored.

It's only a moment later that the realization kicks in.

The grin that splits his face can only be described as malicious in nature.

His hand creeps higher on your thigh, nudging the hem of your—his—shirt up. You’re not wearing anything underneath. The sight of your slick cunt is nearly enough to make his cock stand to attention.

His gaze falls to the curve of your hips, just barely illuminated by the moonlight. He likes the light of you in his shirt a little more than he likes to admit. Though he’s never been quiet about how much he appreciates your body.

Your body freezes the moment his thumb grazes across your slit. So does he. You’re so wet. Must be a real nice dream. You roll onto your back, your legs parted slightly. The soft gasps and moans that leave you are like music to his ears. Gojo takes this as an invitation to continue, his hand moving further up your thigh, lazily tracing circles into it.

You must've missed him more than he expected.

Your body registers that someone is touching you before it registers just who is doing such. In your sleepy, dream-ridden state you don't recognize the figure in front of you. In the dim light of the room, you can make out a mess of white hair, and the reflection of dark, round glasses shoved up into his hairline. Gojo’s eyes practically reflect in the dark.

You jolt awake, sitting up. “Jesus christ-”

“‘S just me, Mochi,” he says, though it does little to settle your nerves.

If you weren't awake before, you certainly are now.

“What? You watch people in their sleep now?!” You scold. “‘Toru- you scared the hell out of me!”

You flop back on the bed. The blankets pool around your hips. You reach to pull them back up, finding your bed colder than usual.

"You were calling out my name." He says.

"Oh," you say, and though there's little light in the room, he watches your face flush, "must have been dreaming about you."

“Wanna recreate what you were dreaming?” He asks. Rather smugly, might you add.

You roll your eyes. “Go to sleep.”

"Scoot over then. I'm gonna fall off the bed."

This prompts an evil sounding giggle from you, followed by a: "fall then."

"Alright," he says, rolling over to lay on you, throwing his arm around your waist. You’re effectively pinned under him, as the awkward angle won't allow you any leverage to throw him off. He attacks the exposed part of your neck with kisses, sucking hickeys into the flesh of your neck and shoulders. His hair tickles your skin.

“‘Toru- stop!” You squeal. “Let me go-”

“Not until you apologize,” he says, planting a wet kiss on your jaw.

“Never!”

“Then I guess I won't let you go.”

His arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush to his chest. One of his hands finds your own, his fingers lacing with yours. His legs tangle with yours in a way that holds them in place. Worming out of his grip in this position would be a near impossible task.

You suppose there’s worse fates than this.

It would be easier to stay awake if he wasn't so warm. Or if he didn't smell so nice. Or if he wasn't softly rocking your body with each breath he takes. His thumb traces soft circles around your knuckles. Gojo’s breath is warm against your neck, making goosebumps rise along the soft flesh. The steady sound of it is almost enough to lull you to sleep.

"I missed you." You say. Your voice is almost too soft to hear.

“I know.” He says. His arms give your midsection a reaffirming squeeze. “I missed you too.”

“How was work?”

“A shitshow,” he says, leaning to nip at your earlobe, “but I get to come home to you, so it’s not all bad. How’s everything been around here?”

“Quiet.” You say. “Kinda boring without you. I wish you told me you’d be home tonight. I would have done something special.”

“It was a spur of the moment decision.” He says. “I didn't expect to be home so soon either.”

“We should do something tomorrow, then,” you say, “a new ramen place opened up down the street. You know where the old bakery used to be? They leased the place out.”

Gojo hums in response. Ramen sounds nice. Especially now. But he’s too tired and too horny to worry about food. Why have ramen when he has a meal right in front of him? Or a snack, as he often likes to call you. To which you roll your eyes, but there's no denying how he makes you blush.

You take back what you said about finding it easy to sleep. He’s moving around a bit too much for that. Gojo isn't subtle about it either. Nothing about the man is. He foregos subtly in favor of announcing nearly everything he does. Loudly. Who would dare stop him?

But you guess it's part of his charm. His dorky, sappy charm. You’ve kind of signed up for it, so you’re not complaining.

You scoot away from the edge of the bed a bit, thinking he needs more room. Gojo pulls you back to his chest, thinking you’re trying to run away from him.

“Quit squirming.” You hiss.

“Sorry Mochi,” he says, “just tryna get comfortable.”

And he really does mean it. But he’s been gone from you for so long that he's forgotten how nice your body feels against his. A little too nice, he’ll admit. Phone sex is nice, but it's not the same as the real thing. It gets old after a while. His hand doesn't quite compare to yours. Or the real thing. Something hard presses against your thigh from behind.

That's when it clicks. You just smell so nice. Your body is so warm against his. You look so nice in his shirt. Can you really blame him for getting hard?

You aren't sure he knows that you know. You shift a bit. It appears you’re only trying to get comfortable. His grip around your waist loosens, allowing you to settle a bit closer to him. You can't help it if your shirt rides up a bit, exposing the perfect curve of your ass. He prefers you in nothing at all, though the sight of you wearing his clothes is certainly a nice one. Any sight of you is. Gojo is shameless in the way he adores your body.

Once settled, his arms return to your waist. His head falls into the crook of your neck. He’s doing little to hide the tent he sports in his boxers. Maybe he thinks you don't notice. Or maybe he’s trying to ignore it.

“Stop that,” he says.

“I'm not doing anything,” you say, with the same evil giggle as before.

“Why do I not believe you?”

His lips find your neck, sucking a dark mark into your pulsepoint. The sudden sensation of lips on your neck makes you squeal. In your ear he coos every sappy nickname in the book that makes you blush.

You hardly notice as his hand trails lower. Your legs part just enough for him to slip his hand between them. He does nothing but seek out your warmth. Yet.

A familiar tension returns to your stomach. It's not unpleasant.

So that's what he was doing. Not that you’re complaining.

“Missed you, Mochi,” he says, gasping at the wet feeling of your cunt, “missed you so much. You have any clue what it's like being around all those weird old men all day? For days on end, no end in sight?”

It always surprises you just how bad the man can be with words, yet how good he is with his mouth.

His fingers find your clit, drawing lazy circles around the bundle of nerves. Your breath catches in your throat. You can't deny how nice his long fingers feel inside of you.

“Seems like you’ve missed me too.” He says, his breath warm against your ear.

“Whatever you want to think, old man,” you say. Though you have missed him. You always do. But there's some fun to be had by teasing him.

“Old man?!” He sounds genuinely hurt. “Don't be like that. I know you like having me around.”

“Oh really? What makes you think that?”

His fingers move to press into the tight entrance of your cunt, his thumb brushing across your clit. The soft gasp that leaves you is practically music to his ears. To give him credit, he is good with his hands.

“Did you think about me while I was gone,” he coos, “did you touch yourself while you did it? I did. Couldn't keep my mind off this sweet cunt of yours. I think I want a taste.”

Your only response is a soft moan. Heat pools low in your stomach, growing in intensity with each skilled movement of his hand. He moves so you can lay on your back. Your hands find the sheets, holding them in a death grip. Gojo nudges your legs further apart with one of his knees.

The kiss he pulls you into is uncharacteristically soft, and needy. He moans nearly as loud as you when you nibble on his bottom lip, hips lips parting, allowing the strong muscle of your tongue to explore his mouth.

Your hands work to undo the top few buttons of your shirt, exposing your breasts. His free hand comes up to grope appreciatively at your tits. Gojo has never been shy about how much he adores them. Or shy ever, to his credit. You’re his, and he would show you off to the world if you’d let him.

But sometimes he prefers to steal you into his domain, and hold you there. Close. Where you’ll always be at his side. The one place in this universe he can truly promise you’ll be safe.

You hardly notice as his kisses trail down your neck. Down the valley between your breasts. Working the last few buttons of your shirt open with his long fingers. What you do notice is the sudden absence of his hand.

Your legs part to give him room to settle between them. His head rests on your stomach. His warm breath tickles your skin.

"You gonna let me have a taste?" He asks, nipping at your thigh.

You swallow hard, eyes locked on him. Slowly, you nod.

You gasp at the feeling of his warm tongue, licking a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. He's not touching you where you need him most. And that frustrates you. You buck your hips up towards his mouth, eliciting a soft laugh from him. He can't tease you too long. His cock is painfully hard, leaking against his thigh in his boxers. He can only hold himself back for so long.

You freeze at the feeling of a hot tongue against your clit.

Gojo eats pussy like a starving man, presented with his favorite meal. He does nothing short of savoring you. How you smell, how you taste, how you sound. He's shameless in how he adores this. Gojo moans nearly as loud as you at the taste of your cunt. Sweeter than his favorite dish. Meant to be savored.

You can't deny that he's good with his mouth. His tongue works circles around your clit, drawing gasps and moans from you.

Heat builds in your stomach, drawing you closer to your impending orgasm. One that comes upon you far sooner than expected.

Maybe you’re more pent up than you thought.

Your thighs clench around his head as you cum hard. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, working you through it with his skilled mouth. He’d stay with his head between your legs forever if you’d let him. Which you don't, as overstimulation soon registers in your lust addled mind, and you shove his head away.

The lower half of his face glistens in the dim light, wet with saliva, and your own slick. He’s far from subtle in the way he licks his lips, or groans at your taste. He may have gotten a bit too excited. It's not unlike him to get carried away. How can he resist a fertile cunt like yours?

“I think you should taste yourself,” he says. His hands move to cup your face as he pulls you into a kiss. You taste yourself on his lips. His hardened cock grinds against his thigh.

“‘Toru-” you whine.

“What's the matter baby?” He coos. “Use your words.”

“Fuck me.” You say. “I need you, ‘Toru. I need your cock in me.”

“Why didn't you say so?” He says, though the desperation in his voice is palpable.

He wastes no time in shoving his boxers down his hips, freeing his cock.

He’s not the most intimidating in size, but his cock is nice, and fairly thick, with a slight upward curve. The patch of hairs towards the base are soft, and white. Generally you don't need a whole lot of prep to take him. Which is helpful when he can't keep his hands to himself, and insists on fucking you in the bathroom during dinner. As much as he likes to take his time with you, he’ll take you anywhere you’ll let him. At work, or over every flat surface of your apartment. Not a single room of your home was spared. Not that either of you mind.

“Gotta work you open first,” he says, “don't want you to be too tight, do we?”

Between his saliva, and your own slick, you put up little resistance. He’s able to slide one finger in. Then a second, with no issue. His fingers curve, stroking your g-spot. His thumb works soft circles around your sensitive clit as he works you open with his fingers. Really, this is unnecessary. Your cunt is practically dripping with your own arousal.

He makes a show of licking his fingers, groaning at the taste of you. Gojo really has no shame.

The moan he lets out as he sheathes himself is truly sinful.

It's another moment before he starts thrusting.

Gojo needs a moment to collect himself. He’s been working himself up for hours if not days. All the nights he spent, thinking of what he’d do to you once he got home. He’s gone over this day in his head about a hundred times.

The sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the room. His taunts turn into senseless babble. Strands of praise mixed with Gojo’s overall dorky remarks. Pleas of your name, calling you mochi, baby, honey, and every other sappy nickname he can think of. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He’s not going to let you leave this bed until you’re thoroughly marked up.

Tension grows in your stomach like a rubber band being stretched tight. Your previous orgasm has left you overly sensitive, and leaves another orgasm creeping up on you sooner than expected. His hand falls to your stomach, working lower until his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub.

He presses your legs further back, shoving them almost to your chest. The stretch leaves a pleasant burn in your hips. Your body isn't really meant to bend this way, though it’s not completely uncomfortable. It's not long before he has you into a full mating press, rutting against you desperately, fucking you into the mattress. The bed frame groans in protest with each of his thrusts. Deep, and unrelenting. Gojo’s cock curves in such a way that hits your sweet spots just right, leaving you writing under him.

“Gonna put a baby in you, Mochi,” he says, “gonna breed this pretty cunt of yours.”

You nod along desperately. You want nothing more than for him to cum inside, filling you completely.

He silences your moan with a kiss, his teeth clashing against yours. His tongue presses past your lips, exploring the wet cavern of your mouth. You can still taste yourself on him.

A line of saliva connects your lips as he pulls away.

“Not gonna ask you to take all of it,” he says, “but take everything I got.”

And with that, he can't hold back any longer, painting your womb white. Gojo’s cum is normally thick, and there's normally a lot of it. Today even moreso. Two weeks away hasn't helped with that. Cum runs down your thighs in streams, ruining your sheets.

The elders aren't going to be happy that he’s so reckless with his precious seed, but Gojo couldn't give a damn. The elders can talk all they want. That's all they're good for. He gets to cum in a warm place, and that's more than any of the others can say.

He practically collapses on top of you.

Gojo shifts so less of his body weight is on top of you. And though the room is rather warm, you find yourself nuzzling into his body, seeking out his warmth. His arms have always given you a sense of security, especially when wrapped up in them. They find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest.

For a moment the two of you lay there, basking in each other's warmth.

You’ll have to get up in a bit anyway. To clean yourself up, and change the sheets. And get a new shirt. Probably another one of Gojo’s. He’s never been against seeing you wear his clothes. They never stay on you for long, though.

You pry his arms off, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, but he notices, and tightens his grip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, sounding rather offended.

“To get a drink,” you say, “I'm thirsty. Why? Do you want one too?”

“You think I’d let you go after just one round?” He asks. “You’re not leaving this bed until I’ve fucked you full of my cum.”

You're in for a long night.