#(although it does also seem like he's looking for a reason to stay)

[threebea]

I was thinking about how the Padawans being part of the war effort DOES suck and kind of bother me, but for some reason I don't really see it as an in universe moral failing of the Jedi.

First I was like: well Star Wars is aimed at kids . A pov character that is a kid makes sense. Especially in the early seasons of TCW and Rebels. This was added in the cartoon and it became part of movie canon after the fact that Padawans held military rank. Suspension of disbelief etc etc.

Then I was like... Wait. Padme was fourteen when she became elected queen, and although it was supposed to be a peaceful rule it got to the point where other fourteen-year-olds became her body doubles in case of assassinations. She also goes and leads an army to take back her planet. At no point was anyone like: you know what you're fourteen you should probably stay at base camp while we do this. We don't actually need you for the storming the palace part.

The GFFA in universe does not place moral significance on it. It isn't weird. If it did there is no way Shmi would have said: yes my nine year old son will do the death race when he doesn't have to even though he has never won or finished before. The plot must allow the gffa to be okay with child endangerment with the good guys still being good guys. No one says Shmi is a terrible mom when she agrees to let Anakin do it. She wasn't being coerced she's just convinced that the only way to help people is to put a nine year old in a death race. In real life if she did that we'd be horrified. And remember Padme isn't bothered because of Anakin's age she's bothered that they're staking everything on a random kid.

So Padawan Commanders makes sense in the GFFA.

Although yeah it makes sense to feel bad about Padawan Commanders in the real world, it also doesn't really say anything about the Jedi and their morality. They're pretty in step with the rules of morality of the universe.

The GFFA has similarities, but it isn't our galaxy.

Would I want children in real life to be trained as Jedi? No. I wouldn't want an eight year old to be trained as crimefighting hero Robin either. It's only when we're looking back at these things through an adult lens and ground fantasy in reality that it becomes a problem.

If you don't want to suspend your disbelief that's fine. But can you make moral judgements on the Jedi without looking at anyone else in the galaxy about this one particular fact? I don't think you can.

I don't know, funny to think about. Especially with the newer media which is aimed at for adults with nostalgia. Then the story does try to seem grounded in reality, but also trying to justify the past where our belief was suspended.

[suzukiblu]

Excerpt from the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it.

(The read-more is definitely necessary, length-wise. I . . . got very into this idea and frankly this is barely a third of it so far, lol.)

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?"

"It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back. Like, unexpectedly far back, in fact.

"Yeah, I'm not actually blind, thanks," Kon says, turning the rock over and squinting at it. It continues not to do anything, aside from the glowing thing.

"No, it's pink kryptonite," she stresses.

". . . it literally doesn't hurt at all, though?" Kon says. Though he probably should've figured it was some kind of kryptonite, given that Metallo had it and had apparently thought he could hurt him with it.

Seriously, though, his gloves are fingerless and he's got it right in his hand. It should be hurting him, if it's actually kryptonite.

"Pink kryptonite doesn't work like that," Kara says, edging a little farther back. They're floating a few hundred feet in the air right now, but from the way she's acting Kon's vaguely concerned that he might be about to explode or something. "It just affects our sexual . . . urges."

"Oh," Kon says, frowning in confusion. Weird, but . . . "Is that all?"

"I don't mean like it makes you horny, Kon, I mean like it makes you homosexual," Kara hisses, looking mortified. "And don't ask how I know, alright?!"

Kon . . . blinks.

"What the literal fuck?" he asks incredulously, just staring at her. "How does that even–are you telling me Metallo went and chucked gay kryptonite at me in the middle of a fight?"

"Yes!" Kara says, still clearly mortified. "So just–just stay over there with it until somebody shows up with a lead box, okay?! The effects will stop after we get it contained."

"Alright, alright. So then do you think the dude was flirting with me or is he just a fucking idiot?" Kon jokes, balancing the kryptonite on his index finger with his TTK. "Although I really don't think he'd be my type either way. Like, nothing against cyborgs in general, obviously, just the whole thing with him being a murderous supervillain who literally runs on kryptonite seems like it'd make us totally star-crossed. I want somebody I can actually commit to, you know?"

"Sure," Kara says, still eyeing the kryptonite with serious trepidation. It's really not helping Kon feel less like a time bomb, to be honest. Is there like some other side effect that he should be worrying about right now or something? Like, is he missing something here?

"You seem kinda high-strung about this," he observes, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Look, you'd have avoided it too if you'd dealt with it before!" she says protestingly. "So stay over there and definitely keep it away from Kal, I don't know if Jimmy ever really recovered from the last time."

"Oh, well, congrats to Jimmy, I guess," Kon says, since he can't really see a downside to scoring a one-night stand with Superman. Like, a downside for somebody who isn't literally his clone, he means. The clone thing would definitely make it weird.

Just it's also Clark, though, so he'd probably be the generous type in bed. Like, the sort to really take care of somebody. Be as gentle as happened to be appropriate but also be down if his partner maybe wanted it a little rough for whatever reason. And he'd definitely be able to go all night. Again, Kon isn't gonna go there himself, it really would be too weird, but he can make a logical conclusion. Extrapolate one. Whatever.

Then again he'd be down with Power Girl absolutely destroying him whenever the fuck she wanted to and she's genetically his . . . some form of cousin or something, he guesses. His half-cousin from another reality. So really, Clark's not even that weird an option. And like, all appearances aside Kon's a binary clone anyway, not even a one-for-one match, sooooo . . .

Actually it's probably weirder that he thinks Power Girl is so unspeakably hot but comparatively Kara is just . . . fine? Like, that's a little odd, isn't it?

Maybe it's an attitude thing. Or the costume.

Might be safe to blame the costume, yeah.

It's just such a good costume. Like, Kon aspires to reach that level of costume.

But really, all that aside he still doesn't even know what the big deal about temporarily going gay is, although to be fair he's also currently talking to Supergirl and not, like . . . literally any dude whatsoever. So like, who knows how weird this stuff might actually make him under those circumstances. Maybe it like fucks with inhibitions and stuff too?

Yeah, hell if he knows. He's really only dealt with green kryptonite before. He was vaguely aware that other colors existed and apparently did different stuff, but . . . this just seems very different, put it that way.

Maybe best to avoid Jimmy Olsen for a little while, Kon decides privately. The guy probably doesn't need that.

Besides, Clark apparently got there first anyway and Kon just really doesn't want to be worrying about measuring up. Miss him with that, thanks.

. . . although maybe he'll go visit Tim later.

Eh, no, Kara made it sound like the pink K's gonna stop affecting him pretty quick once they box it up, so not much point in bothering. Though maybe he'll visit just to hang, come to think of it; they haven't seen each other in almost a whole week. Well, he hasn't seen Tim, at least–who knows how much Bat-surveillance Tim's seen him through.

Kon should maybe sweep his room for bugs again. Note to self.

Although would it be weird to just like . . . keep the pink kryptonite, maybe? Since it apparently doesn't actually hurt anyone or anything? Because that could be, well . . . just interesting, that's all. Like, Kon is open to exploring that experience. Just–as an experience.

"Actually, you're surprisingly not high-strung about this," Kara says.

"Am I?" Kon asks. "I mean, it's not that big a deal, is it?"

She stares at him.

"Kon," she says slowly. "Pink kryptonite affects your sexuality. It makes you attracted to people you're not normally attracted to. It confuses you and everyone around you and it is really freaking embarrassing to explain afterwards."

"I've been mind-controlled into shaving my head and breaking my best friend's arm," Kon says, continuing to not really see what the big deal is. "That was embarrassing. And fucking traumatic. This? This is just kinda weird."

"Only kinda?" Kara asks incredulously. "You're one of the straightest guys I know! How are you just fine with this?!"

"I mean to be fair, that's probably making some unfair generalizations about straight guys," Kon points out. Kara stares at him. "What?"

"I don't even know how to respond to that," she says.

"Sorry?" Kon says, then tucks the pink kryptonite into his jacket pocket with a shrug. He's not trying to hide it or anything; just getting kinda sick of holding it. And it's that or he either ditches it somewhere or starts tossing it around and that'd probably be . . . just, well, absolutely epically stupid of him.

Or it seems like it would be, anyway. Whatever color it is, it's still kryptonite.

"I mentioned keeping that away from Kal, right?" Kara says.

"Yeah, on that note, are they like . . . done down there yet?" Kon asks, glancing down towards the mess of the street that Clark's standing on a few hundred feet below with a whole bunch of randos from S.T.A.R. Labs, for some reason. Somebody mentioned something about neutralizing Metallo's kryptonite heart without actually killing him, but mostly it was science talk and clearly theoretical anyway so to be honest Kon'd kinda tuned it all out as "not currently relevant", and that's all he knows.

"Definitely not," Kara says.

"I'm gonna call Robin while we're killing time, then," Kon says, pulling out his phone.

"You're going to call your closest male friend," Kara says. "Right now. While you've got pink kryptonite in your pocket."

"Yup," Kon says, already pulling up Tim's contact.

"Can you not see how that might be a bad idea at the moment?" Kara asks. "Not in any way whatsoever?"

"Well I'm not calling Impulse," Kon replies reasonably. Kara stares at him again, for some reason.

Eh, whatever.

He calls Tim.

"Hey, Conner, what's up?" Tim answers distractedly, which Kon doesn't hold against him because when isn't Tim distracted, really. Dude's got too much going on in that head of his, for real. He's just glad the guy ever picks up the phone at all.

"So apparently I'm gay right now," Kon greets conversationally, figuring he should lead with that just in case he actually is about to do something embarrassing to explain. "Pink kryptonite is fucking weird, man."

". . . uh," Tim says as Kara covers her face with her hands. "What?"

"Pink kryptonite makes you gay, Kara says," Kon says. "And we're both just kind of chilling above downtown Metropolis waiting for Kal to finish up with the science-y people so we can get said pink K locked up, so I'm bored out of my mind right now and calling you to complain about it."

"You're calling me," Tim says slowly. "While you're . . . gay."

"What, is he asking to come over?" another voice asks from the phone, sounding amused. It takes Kon a second to recognize it, but–oh yeah, that's the mysterious Bernard, isn't it?

Right, Tim has a boyfriend now. Kon's never actually met him on account of being the worst at secret identities and the whole thing that is Bernard living very firmly in Gotham, land of "no metas allowed unless you're either a supervillain or Batman's too dead to stop you", but he's heard him over the phone a couple times now, although they've never actually personally talked. So maybe thinking about Tim while being high on pink kryptonite isn't actually, like, kosher? Or polite. Or whatever.

. . . then again, Bernard did ask.

"I don't know, maybe?" Kon says thoughtfully, considering the idea. "Are you open to me coming over?"

"Yes," Bernard says.

"Bernard," Tim says.

"Babe, I know we're pretending I don't know you're an ass-kicking vigilante and all but come on, don't make me turn down Superboy," Bernard says wryly.

"We're–wait, pretending?!" Tim sputters.

"Pretending so, so hard," Bernard confirms, sounding nothing but fond. Kon's actually a little jealous of that tone of voice, he's gotta admit. Like–it's been a bit since anybody's talked to him that way, is all. "But like, if you actually thought you were being subtle maybe you shouldn't talk about kryptonite on the phone right in front of me or put themed emojis next to all your superfriends' civilian names in your contacts list?"

"Oh my god, you do that?!" Kon asks with a gleeful cackle, immediately forgetting everything else in favor of that absolutely delightful piece of information. "You're the worst! Batman just rolled over in his grave and Oracle is absolutely losing her shit on the other end of her wiretap!"

"B's not even dead right now," Tim says in exasperation. "And if O cared she'd have already hacked my phone and changed them. And for the record plenty of people put random superhero emojis next to their friends' names, that's a totally normal thing to do!"

"Usually the random superhero emojis aren't associated with contact pics that are dead fucking ringers for said superheroes," Bernard says, sounding amused again. "Just as a thing and all."

". . . anyway so you're gay today, how's that going for you, Conner?" Tim says as Bernard laughs gleefully in the background. "Triggering any unfortunate mental health crisises or anything? Making you worry about the validity of your masculinity? Because I can safely assure you that's all bullshit and you're fine."

"Naw, I know all that, being gay is just a thing," Kon says with a shrug. "Kara's being a little weird about it but honestly it's going way better than, like, the times supervillains mind-controlled me into being into them. Like just as an overall experience, I mean."

"Wait, how many times has that come up?" Tim asks in bemusement.

"I dunno?" Kon shrugs again. "I mean you were there for the Poison Ivy incident, and then Gorgeous Gilly happened to me a while later, which was, uh, genuinely horrifying because she tried to literally marry me during all that, so . . . I think just the twice, probably? But don't quote me on that, I don't even remember what I had for breakfast."

"And how is Kara being weird, exactly?" Tim says in his very unsubtle "assessing my teammate's psychological condition" voice.

"Oh, she's mostly just avoiding me?" Kon says, as a guy who's personally not really all that concerned with his psychological condition at the moment. "Because I've got the rock in my pocket on account of not wanting to just leave it lying around somewhere and she doesn't want to get affected by it. I don't know why, I don't really get why it matters."

"I mean it matters, definitely," Bernard says. "Like it very strongly matters to a lot of people."

"Fair, but I think we're all too invulnerable to really have to worry about getting gay-bashed or anything," Kon reasons. "Like, at least not as a heat of the moment thing."

". . . god can you imagine the world we would live in if every piece of shit gay-basher had to deal with the consequences of punching fucking Superman?" Bernard says feelingly. "For real."

"Oh, pink K's temporary," Kon clarifies. "Kal's not gay anymore."

"Hold up, I'm sorry, are you saying that at some point he was?" Bernard demands in obvious delight. "Is that what you're telling me right now?"

"I guess he was into redheads?" Kon says, tilting his head. "Slightly twinky redheads, specifically. Which I don't blame him for, I'm gonna be honest."

"Well now I know that forever, thanks," Tim says dryly.

"Alternate option: he could've been into Batman," Kon points out.

"Redheads it is," Tim says. "You just . . . redhead away over there."

"I mean I thought about it, kinda," Kon admits.

"Ngh," Tim says, for some reason.

"No thinking about Batman, though?" Bernard asks with a snicker.

"Not so much," Kon says, making a face. "Did consider having some Superman thoughts but I'm apparently not that narcissistic, surprisingly enough."

"Kon!" Kara chokes.

"Tell me you've never considered having Superman thoughts and I'll tell you you're a fucking liar," Kon snorts, shooting her a dry look. "Weren't you like totally naked when you first showed up on Earth? And then he found you like that and wrapped you up in his cape all nice and gentlemanly and took you home with him?"

"He is my baby cousin and you're being affected by pink kryptonite poisoning!" Kara accuses, her face bright red.

"Wait, is it actually poisoning me?" Kon says with a frown. "I feel like you should've led with it actually poisoning me, if that's actually a thing."

"Well no, not actually, it's physically harmless," Kara says grudgingly, folding her arms. "But you're still being affected! You're having Superman thoughts, of all things!"

"He just seems like he'd be considerate," Kon says reasonably. "Like, you know. Biblically."

"Ngh," Tim says, again for no apparent reason. Bernard sounds like he might be laughing. Or choking? Or maybe both; it's unclear.

"Please don't hit on Kal," Kara says. "Especially don't hit on Kal with pink kryptonite in your pocket. I don't want to know how that situation would end up."

"Ideally with him being considerate," Kon says. Tim chokes. Kara covers her face again.

"Does pink kryptonite affect your inhibitions too or are you just always like this?" Bernard asks curiously.

"Eh, pretty sure I'm just always like this, going by the things I've definitely still not been forgiven for saying to Power Girl," Kon says, idly tapping a finger against the side of his phone case. "Like, pretty damn sure at this point."

"That is unfortunately accurate," Tim agrees resignedly.

"So you're saying it is ethically okay to have Superboy over while he's gay," Bernard says in a promisingly speculative tone. Kon grins. Just a little, but yeah–definitely he grins. Kara grimaces, because she is absolutely no fun whatsoever.

Spoilsport.

"I did not in any way say that," Tim retorts dubiously.

"I mean that's what I heard, man, and I'm the one with super-hearing in this conversation," Kon says with a wider grin. "My inhibitions are all inhibited and my personal opinions of people are all the same, I'm just currently batting for the other team."

"So your normal opinion of me is that if you were gay, you'd come over," Tim says dryly.

"Yeah?" Kon says, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, obviously."

"How is that obvious?" Tim says.

"Because I already come over every time you let me," Kon reminds him.

"Oh yeah?" Bernard says slyly. "And how often does he let you come, exactly?"

"Not often enough," Kon replies honestly, and doesn't even bite at the obvious dumb sex joke Bernard so thoughtfully set up for him even though it is frankly painful not to.

"Ngh," Tim says. Kon continues not to understand the reason for him repeatedly making that same weird little noise, but whatever, he guesses. It's Tim, maybe he's stitching his own bullet wounds again or something. Guy's a multi-tasker like that.

"You know this would probably make for a fascinating case study about sexuality, actually," Bernard says musingly. "I mean, all I intend to do is abuse the situation to get into your very tight tights, but seriously, maybe we should all be taking notes or something."

"Ugh, hell no, Rob'll go full Bat if we let him do that," Kon snorts, then smirks. "He can take pictures, though, I know he's into that."

"Ngh," Tim says yet again, accompanied by a weird random "thump". If Kon didn't know better, he'd think he'd just fallen off a chair or something.

"Aw dammit, dude, I think I actually like you as a person now," Bernard says, sniggering. "Are you keeping the kryptonite? Please keep the kryptonite. Like, just for Valentine's and Tim's birthday, that's all I ask."

"Honestly don't know if Superman's gonna let me but I do kinda wanna," Kon admits. It seems pretty convenient, really. And definitely fun.

". . . and you're sure his inhibitions and opinions aren't being influenced in any way, Kara?" Tim asks suspiciously.

"He's really just like this, yeah," Kara says resignedly. "Well admittedly Kal spontaneously developed opinions on window treatments and used the word 'smashing' in cold blood when it happened to him, but that might've just been him sucking at flirting. Because he really does suck at flirting."

"What about when it was you?" Kon asks curiously.

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara says.

"You kinda implied–"

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara repeats, narrowing her eyes at him and doing an impressively bad job of acting like she's not blushing.

So it definitely happened to her, yeah.

"Okaaaaay, we'll pretend about that too then," Bernard says. "Well, what are your opinions on window treatments, Conner?"

"That I don't know what they are," Kon says.

"Sounds like he's in his right mind to me," Bernard says.

"He is absolutely not," Kara retorts dubiously.

"I really don't feel weird or anything, I swear," Kon tells her, since he still doesn't get the problem but also doesn't actually want to worry her either. "I don't even feel any different."

"Kon, you are hitting on your best friend and his boyfriend," Kara says. "Together. At once. Simultaneously, one might even say."

"You've met Wonder Girl and Arrowette before, right?" Kon says. "And both the Batgirls? And–"

"Oh my god, Kon," she cuts him off.

"Just saying," he says, then pauses for a moment and frowns consideringly. "Actually, question, how gay is this stuff making me, because while we're on the topic of threeways I kinda always wondered about what Starfire and Nightwing get up to together and if–"

"KON!" Kara yells, covering her ears.

"I'm just asking," he huffs.

"I don't know if it's actually possible to be gay enough to not be into Starfire," Bernard says musingly. "Like I can't imagine how it ever could be."

"Right?" Kon says.

"It's possible to not be into Starfire," Tim says. "Like, theoretically. Asexuals and aromantics both exist, for one."

"Do they?" Kon says doubtfully. "Like in general, sure, but when around specifically Starfire?"

". . . I can't technically prove you wrong due to a lack of reliable evidence but still," Tim says. "The possibility is there. If nothing else the multiverse is a thing."

"Last time I saw her she was wearing half a gold lamé bikini and I am not going to tell you which half or define how loosely I am using the term 'wearing'," Kon says.

"I said it's possible, not probable," Tim says.

"What about you, man, are you the gold lamé type?" Bernard asks with a teasing snicker. "Just while you're gay and all, of course. That's like, practically a cultural thing. Gotta be authentic to the experience, yeah?"

"That is in no way whatsoever a cultural thing, babe," Tim says dubiously.

"Please, like I've never worn freaking lamé," Kon scoffs. "I've worn collars and loincloths and leather and crop tops and enough unnecessary belts to tie up a Bat, lamé is nothing."

"Collars and . . . loincloths?" Bernard repeats, sounding confused.

"Yeah, this one time I crash-landed on a lost isle of beast-men and they kidnapped and enslaved me for a few months," Kon explains, waving a hand distractedly. "Frankly I count myself lucky they even let me have the collar, much less the loincloth."

". . . um," Bernard says.

"You, uh, never mentioned the collar part of that story before, Kon," Tim says, clearing his throat. "You very definitely never mentioned the collar part of that story before."

"Oh yeah, the prince kinda kept me as his pet for a little bit?" Kon tells him with an easy shrug. "Like he and all his buddies ganged up on me and then took me home with them, but I was kinda . . . feral, I guess? Technically? So like, collar and chain setup. But he was cool, he took real good care of me."

"Ngh," Tim says just barely faintly.

"Yeah you should definitely come over," Bernard says. "Tim, get the check. Conner, exactly how super is your super-speed?"

"You can just call me Kon," Kon says. "And . . . mach 3, last I clocked it?"

"Isn't that like two thousand miles per hour?" Bernard asks.

"Two thousand two hundred and twenty-three point three," Kon replies with a pleased smirk. "Faster than a speeding bullet. Or so they tell me."

"We'll just meet you at Tim's, how's that," Bernard says. "That work for you, Kon?"

"That works for me, Bernard," Kon confirms, smirking wider.

"Oh my god, Kon, you cannot possibly be serious right now," Kara says in exasperation, rubbing at her temples. "Just because you're temporarily gay doesn't mean you should do anything about it!"

"I mean, I'm feeling pretty serious?" Kon says, shrugging again. He still doesn't get why she's being so sensitive about this. "It's not like this is the weirdest thing I've ever done in pursuit of a good time. Like, holy hell, lemme tell you about the Ravers sometime."

"You're going to have to look Robin in the eye after this!" Kara says. "And work with him! And be a normal person in his presence! Normally!"

"I'm aware?" Kon says, vaguely bemused by her concern. Like he's never been normal around somebody he's slept with before, geez. "Tell Kal I ran off with the pink K, if he wants to lock it up in the Fortress or wherever I can bring it back tomorrow."

"Maybe Monday," Bernard says.

"Or maybe Monday," Kon amends.

"It's Thursday!" Kara sputters.

"So it's a long weekend," Bernard says.

"I'm not explaining this to Kal," Kara says. "I'm not explaining this to Batman."

"I really don't see why you'd have to," Kon says. "Rob, you cool with the long weekend thing? Not too much of an imposition?"

". . . I got the check," Tim mutters in obvious and absolute mortification.

Kon's gonna take that as a "yes".

"Cool," he says, grinning broadly. "See you soon, Boy Wonder."

He ends the call. Kara drags her hands down her face and continues to stay very far away from him and the pink kryptonite in his pocket.

"When you go back to normal and freak out and make everything weird with Robin and your team and even Robin's literal boyfriend, I'm going to say so many 'I told you so's," she swears vehemently. "So don't say I didn't warn you."

"Your objection is on the record," Kon says, then tosses her a lazy salute with another grin and takes off, kryptonite and all.

Best to just scarper while Clark's distracted, yeah?

Definitely best.

[brilium]

❥ K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 3

Masterlist

➽──────────❥

❥ DAY 9. Aphrodisiac! with Nanami Kento

Summary. Nanami has been dealing with a lot of stress at the office lately, and you decided to buy him a naturalist tea that it supposed to help with the stress relief. It seems to help with stress in a very particular way...

Content Warning. Fem! reader, no use of Y/N, all characters are adults, smut, vaginal sex, overstimulation, oral sex (m. receiving), breeding. No proof read, might edit later.

Word count. 2,203.

MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT !!

You bought a package of natural tea bags for stress relief. Was it suspicious? Not really. You expected them to work? Also no.

Actually, it seemed pretty normal; a simple box with small bags filled with the usual content.

You gave them to Kento when he drank in the morning before going to work. He seemed like usual; tired, with no energy and half asleep.

That was pretty much the reason why you bought them.

The tea was supposed to help him relieve stress relief, that’s why you give it to him before his stressful routine. You didn’t expect to be one of those teas.

“Fuck! S–Stay still dear!” Nanami groans, holding the headboard of the bed with one hand while the other keeps your waist firmly against the mattress as his hips slam aggressively against yours.

You look at your clothes spreader around the floor, you can't even remember when Nanami got you rid of them in the rush of kisses and make out that he put you through.

The lady at the shop gently helped you to look for a tea that would help with the stress that your husband has been having, since you’re a bit worried about his lack of words and how he skips dinner and goes to sleep. You should have suspected of her smile.

It was a damn aphrodisiac.

You cry in the pillow while he keeps thrusting with an animal fiercely, holding the sheets between your fists as his hip bone spanks against your red ass. Nanami groans fill the bedroom with the skin slapping sounds that drive you crazy.

"God— You feel so good today. I couldn't stop thinking at work about you, dear!"

And, that's fucking true, Nanami felt a weird wave of arousal as soon as he landed on his desk. Suddenly remembering how tight that shirt suited you today, he remembered how your nipples poked out softly through the fabric; and that leaded him to remember your bare body, your thighs squeezing at his sides every time he pounded on you and your sweet blush when you announced that you were about to cum—

God, he lied saying that he was sick because he needed to fuck you. It felt like ages since the last time.

When he arrived sooner, you were happy that, maybe, his boss gave him a free day. But as soon as he started kissing you as rubbing his hard erection against your stomach you knew that you’ll be the tired one today.

“P–Please! K–Kento—” You rest your cheek on the pillow to get some air, even if it’s hard to do it with his weight above yours, thrusting hard. “S–Slow down! Fuck!”

Nanami doesn’t seem to listen, actually, he does the opposite, getting a quicker peace that wins a loud scream from you. Your eyes half opened don’t let you focus clearly, although your complaints since you’re used to doing it more gently with him, you love how his tip hits constantly on your cervix like he wants to leave his mark inside you.

When you start whining against the pillow, drooling on it and starting to dig hardly your nails on your palm, you let out a small whimper of pain that startles your husband.

“D–Do you— Shit! Do you want me to stop?”

The thrusts slow down gently until stopping with some shaking from him, he doesn’t sounds like he wants to stop, even his voice shakes in need of more but his delicacy with you stays even though the way he acts right now melts a warm feeling on your chest.

You shake your head with weakness, tightening your core muscles to keep him inside. Nanami lets out a broken moan when you do it, grabbing both sides of your hips firmly and taking a deep breath.

He caresses your back from top to bottom, trying to control his need to keep slamming on you.

“This is because of that damn tea…” He scolds, going inside again more slowly even it’s a higher pain for his body needing to let out all that contained energy. "I can't even feel tiredness."

“I notice it,” You whimper, tasting how sweetly it feels his length entering again, you push your hips back a little for more and Nanami responds by unintentionally digging his nails on your skin. “Fuck— D–Don’t hold back, please...”

Nanami growls in response, he tries his best to go slow for you but even though he slowed down his thrusts, he makes sure to hit every time with enough energy to make your insides clench around his swollen dick.

You start to love this new side of him, letting out his desires to ruin you and take everything he wants. He's a gentleman, and that's perfect, but remembering that that gentleman is turning you into a mess growls a pool on your aching cunt.

When Nanami’s thrusts start to get faster and harder, you start to taste a sweet electric wave around your body as you keep hearing the headboard slamming on the wall.

“K–Kento! I’m… I’m close!” You scream, moaning his name against the sheets and grabbing them between your fists.

Nanami nods behind you, keeping his peace as he starts to feel how the knot on his stomach is about to release. He pulls you closer to him in a harsh movement and starts hitting harder, when you start crying in pleasure is when you feel a whole shiver growing along your body in the high of your orgasm. He keeps moving his hips in a messier way until he moans sharply as you feel a warmth filling your cunt.

You are breathless on the mattress as you feel the cum running down your thighs, thinking that your husband is in the same state but it takes you by surprise when he grabs you by the shoulder to make you lie on your back to look at him towering you in the bed.

He just came, a lot.

And he’s still fucking hard.

“B–But you just came!” You whine, feeling him rubbing his length along your sensitive folds. Making you roll your eyes at the sensation and having to bite your lip to not moan in response. "Kento—"

“P–Please… Fuck, you feel so warm” Nanami moans quietly between his teeths, putting his tip right on your entrance and you feel a cold chill running through your spine. “If you are still tight maybe I’ll cum sooner and the effect of the tea goes away.”

You know that he's inventing all that, you both don't know how long that effect is going to last but you’re not complaining when his tip opens your walls again.

Nanami starts to push and you throw your head back on the pillow with a pained moan, you are still really wet from the previous orgasm, but also damn sensitive. He hasn't even fully entered but yet it already has you breathing hard and biting your lip.

He grabs your thighs to spread them and has a good entrance to you when he starts stroking again, but it doesn't seem to be enough for him. Nanami does the opposite by lifting your calves to put them on his shoulders as he starts to hit again.

This new position lifts your hips a little more and gives him a good angle to hit on your cunt and turn you into a mess of moans, feeling him hitting on the cervix in such a delicious way.

His eyes travel down along your body from your parted lips crying his name; your tits being squeezed between one of your hands, trying to keep them both stimulated; and fuck, the nice view of your cunt squeezing on his fat cock around the white ring of cum around it.

You squirm on the mattress, feeling like a rag doll in the hold of his strong body.

"F–Fuck! Fuck!" You bring one of your hands between your legs to rub your swollen clit to get closer to the second orgasm. Nanami groans at the feeling of your folds hugging him tightly.

Nanami lets go of your thighs on your sides to bend closer to you, but his hips keep slamming on you like he's just started while you already started to feel your body getting sore.

You thought that he leaned closer to kiss you through the thrusts, but he stopped right in front of your breasts to start  sucking on your nipples and let them go with a "Pop!". When his hard thrusts make it hard for him to reach the nipple, he just chooses to suck on the soft skin of your breasts, leaving a dark red mark on there.

His tongue drills on the tip of your sensitive bud, biting it softly between his teeths to make your back arch for more. It's when in one of those movements that your vision goes blurry as your hands fly to his back and start to scratch it with your nails. 

"K–Kento! Yes, yes!" You roll your eyes, feeling his dick strokes on the right spot between your walls "Right there! Yes!" 

Nanami hugs you back to keep you steady as he keeps hitting, feeling your cunt tightening around him. You cry his name repeatedly against his shoulder as he thrusts while you ride the second orgasm.

You spasm under him, trembling and feeling small tears on the border of your eyes as he calms down above you. Even your walls clench around his length at the sound of his hard breathing beside your ear.

"D–Dear… I—"

You interrupt Nanami, pushing him softly to lie on his back beside you. He opens his eyes wide when you use the last remains of your strength to straddle I'm front of his swollen dick, holding the base of it with one hand as you get closer to it.

"Gosh! You gave me two sweet orgasms and you haven't even cum once…" A pout grows in your face, holding his cock to hit it softly on your cheek, loving the way Nanami’s body jumps slightly at the touch.

"Am I that bad in bed?" You continue, passing slowly your tongue flatly from his base to his tip to taste his precum combined with the last of your fluids. "Is that so, Kento? You want me to stop?"

Nanami shakes his head, bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing sweetly as he bites his lip to not scream at the way you tease him with soft licks along his member. 

"No… Don’t stop."

You smirk, licking his tip in circles with your tongue before sliding it between your lips and pull back. You enjoy his cries and pleas until you finally decide to take the most that you can, swallowing with your cheeks as he throws his head back with a growl.

It's been a while since you gave him a blow job, so you forgot how fat his cock felt inside your mouth, struggling to take it all as you jerk the rest with your hand as you lick his tip in circles before taking it all again.

But he squirms so nicely on the bed…

You laugh against his dick, sending vibrations that make him cry softly, you keep going slowly until his hands push you down to take more. You gag around him and he growls pleased, thrusting up to hit the back of your throat, making you cry softly as the sound of his guttural moans fill your ears.

"Yes, yes! You take me so well, dear!" It doesn't take longer until Nanami pulls your head back by tangling his fingers on your hair, leaving a thin thread of drool from his tip to your lip.

You look at Nanami trying to get up on his knees in front of you with your flushed cheeks and fucked out gaze. He pumps along his swollen dick in front of you a few strokes until he throws the thick lines of cum around all your face, falling down along your cheeks, mouth and some drips on your tits.

Nanami groans relieved and fall on his knees in the mattress, looking at you cleaning the rest with your thumb to suck it.

"Don’t do that, let me clean you."

"Why? Is it gross for you?" You ask, genuinely. Stopping to look around for the tissues, but Nanami’s head weight on your lap, his broken breathing hits on your thighs, giving you tickles. 

"No… I'll get hard again if I see you doing it. I still feel some dizziness from that stupid tea."

You giggle, playing with his hair with one hand as you clean the last remains with the back of your hand, waiting for cleaning it properly later.

"Don’t call it stupid! You seem less stressed, actually."

Nanami groans annoyed, slapping softly on your bare thigh.

"Maybe, but I'm stressed on what medical excuse I'll have to create for my work."

"Just tell them that something in the morning hurt your tummy."

Nanami hums in response, about to fall asleep on your thighs and you smirk before leaning closer to his ear.

"Since you’re not going back to work… Do you want another tea?"

[heeology]

god, you're annoying | l.hs

synopsis → ever since you and heeseung have come into each others' lives, he has been asking you out and flirting with you nonstop. for years, the cycle of him confessing his feelings to you and you rejecting every single one of his advances seems as though it has gone on forever. being fed up, you develop a plan to pretend as though you already have a boyfriend (spoiler alert: it doesn’t end well). after years of continuously trying to get heeseung off of your radar, you just can’t seem to get rid of him and suddenly (to your surprise), you find yourself not being bothered as much by his presence.

feat. → yeonjun (txt), yunjin (le sserafim), beomgyu (txt), minjeong (aespa), jake (enhypen), sunghoon (enhypen), jay (enhypen)

genre → university AU, enemies to lovers, romance, smut

pairing → nonidol!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings → MDNI, kinda long but bear w me pls

w.c. → 9k

disclaimer!! → any other idols mentioned in this story (that I portray are dating) i do not ship irl; this story is a work of fiction a.k.a. something derived from my delusions and imagination, take this story lightly pls and thx.

!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!

-

-

-

Everyday you walk onto campus and make sure you avoid eye contact with a “certain someone” and even though the outcome always remains the same, you still hope that one day it will actually make a difference. Unfortunately for you, on your campus, there is only one way to get to your morning class which makes this “certain someone” rather happy to know that you practically have to see him everyday. Although you try your best, he never fails to call out your name, even if you try hiding behind other people; he can spot you from a mile away. This, you find to be annoying. He, however, looks forward to this moment every day because what other reason is there to get up early in the morning if it means he doesn’t get to see you?

You hear him call after you as you try to quickly make your way to your first class which, luckily for you, does not include him. You can hear his footsteps hurrying towards you making you break out into a light jog to your classroom door that is just ahead. You reach for the door handle and open it just enough to let yourself in and as you are about to close it behind you, a hand from the other side stops you, forcing it back open enough for you to be face-to-face with the one and only bane of your existence: Lee Heeseung.

He gives you a cocky smile receiving an eye roll from you as you can already hear his irritating voice begin to say a bunch of sentences and words that you couldn’t care any less about because you couldn’t care any less about him. Heeseung is fully aware about how you feel about him and although some most of his actions are–-yes, he’ll admit–-advertently creepy, he means no harm. You, of course, don’t see it that way, but that doesn’t stop him. 

“You didn’t hear me calling your name?” he asks, knowing that you did and also knowing that you ignored him, but he just wants to hear any snarky reply you have because that’s the only time when you actually acknowledge his presence. 

“Nope, must’ve missed it.” you say in a fake sympathetic tone. 

He lets out a “hmm” and you mock him. He smirks, leaning a little closer to you. You would move away, but then you figured he might take that as his chance to open the door more, so you decide to stay put. 

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me. There is this restaurant that my family and I only go to on special occasions and I think you’ll really like it.”

There it is, him asking you to the same stupid restaurant that you have said no to many (and you mean many) times before. You know what restaurant he is talking about, some way overpriced place that only really rich people go to. You clenched your jaw as your hand gripped the edge of the door a little tighter. He smiled at you, which you thought was him being smug, but rather it was him anticipating your answer. He meant what he said and he just wants to be given a chance to show you how much he likes you. 

Him asking you out to this restaurant, always offering to buy your lunch, pay for your snacks, or buy you some other object just felt as him rubbing his money in your face, making all of his attempts seem as though they are a joke; that you are a joke. Ever since middle school, when you and Heeseung had first met, he made his “crush” on you apparent, which all of the other kids found to be funny and ridiculous. You know he doesn’t actually like you and you hate him for still acting like this even though you both are now grown adults and not eleven year old children who still ride in the car with their parent on their way to school everyday. 

“Well, if you think I’ll like it, then I’ll surely hate it.” you reply.

“You’re only saying that be-”

“No, Heeseung, I will not go out with you and for the last time: stop bothering me.” you say sternly.

You scowl at him and he can’t help but find you to be adorable. He knows you’re annoyed by him, but there isn’t anyone else he would rather spend his time with other than you, even if his only way to spend time with you is by pestering you constantly. 

“I’m just going to ask you again tomorrow.” he says with a smile.

You knew he wasn’t joking about that and that made your blood begin to boil. You hated having to be bothered by him, you hated feeling like a joke, you hated seeing his stupid face everyday, and you hated how it seems like he doesn't even care. You have to put a stop to this, you simply can’t take it anymore. But how? You’ve tried everything, what other way could there possibly be? Then it clicked. You stood up straighter, looking him directly in his eyes. He found himself a little taken aback by your sudden eye contact, but didn’t want to show it; to show how you make him flustered and blush just by simply looking at him.

“Heeseung, I have a boyfriend.” you say, trying not to smile.

You don’t know how you didn’t think of this before, but you’re overjoyed that the idea finally came. His smile drops–for a split second–as he felt the wind practically get knocked out of him like someone had just suckerpunched him in the gut. You were bluffing, you had to be…right?

“Pfft, I don’t believe you.” he says, letting go of the door, only to cross his arms and lean against the doorframe.

You feel your face become hot as you stand your ground, “And what exactly makes you say that?”

“I’ve never seen you with your “boyfriend”.” he says, making air quotes.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”

“Well it surely doesn’t mean that you do.”

“I know you stalk me because you have nothing better to do with your life, but that doesn’t mean you know what I do every second of the day.”

He shrugs his shoulders, not buying a word that you are saying. He keeps telling himself that you are lying, but what if that small percentage of possibility actually means you are telling the truth? He doesn’t want to think about that, he has to believe that you are lying.

“Okay, what’s his name, then?” he asks, confident that you won’t have an answer.

Shit. How do you answer that? You try not to show your worry in your expression and quickly try to come up with an answer. You open your mouth to speak, hoping the words that do end up coming out make sense.

“Yeonjun.” you reply.

Well, you said a name and that’s all that counts. Sure, it’s the name of your best friend’s boyfriend, but she won’t mind if you use him for a lie…right? Now it’s Heeseung’s turn for him to clench his jaw. He scoffs, rolling his eyes before looking back at you.

“Then how come I’ve never seen you with him on campus?”

“Because he goes to another school, idiot.”

“How did you two meet?”

“Through my best friend; they go to school together.”

You could see him become more annoyed with your answers as you tried to say them with as much confidence as possible. 

“I still don’t believe you.” he says, less certain of what he is saying than before.

You’re so close and you know it, you just need to say something that will make him back-off once and for all.

“I’ll have him bring me to school tomorrow.” you said, now being the one to cross your arms as you smiled smugly.

Heeseung felt his blood run cold, terror now coursing through his veins. Were you actually telling the truth? He didn’t want to see you with some other guy, most definitely not someone who you are claiming to be your boyfriend. The thought made him both upset and annoyed. What do they have that he doesn’t? He’s the one who has been trying to show how much he likes you for years now and some rando comes in and sweeps you off of your feet? Over his dead body.

“Okay,” he says while standing up from leaning on the door, “I can’t wait to see you and a bunch of air walk into school tomorrow.”

“You still think I’m lying?”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking away before looking back at you.

“I just find it hard to believe.”

“That I have a boyfriend?”

“You could say that.”

Man, you couldn’t wait to prove him wrong (even though he is technically right). You fake laugh at his reply and stop as you grab his hand. He feels butterflies erupt in his stomach from your sudden contact and is so distracted that he isn’t even paying attention to what you are doing, which is putting his hand on the door frame. You plaster on a fake smile before quickly swinging the door shut. He snaps out of his daze and moves his hand out of the way just in time before it could have been smashed by the door. 

-

Beomgyu didn’t think to even hold back his laughter once the words left your mouth and although the music in the club was blaring through the speakers, you could still hear his piercing voice. The others, however, were a little more surprised to hear what you had said, especially Yunjin and Yeonjun. You had a guilty smile on your face as you exchanged glances between the two and then Yeonjun scoffed. He raised his glass in a ‘cheers’ manner and Yunjin slapped his shoulder.

“It’s honestly not that bad of a plan,” Minjeong says, trying to defuse the tension, “Yunjin, you know better than any of us here how badly this guy bothers her.”

Yunjin sighs before she chugs the rest of her drink from her cup. “You can borrow my boyfriend on one condition: it doesn’t go too far.” She says, pointing between you and Yeonjun. 

You both look at each other and cringe. Yeonjun puts his arm around Yunjin and she smiles. He kisses her temple, “As if that would ever happen.”

“So how exactly are you going to convince him?” Yunjin asks.

You chug the rest of your drink, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat. “Is it cool if Yeonjun takes me to school tomorrow? I was thinking all he has to do is walk me to my class and just essentially tell Heeseung to back off.”

“He’s not going to do it unless he believes it.” Beomgyu points out as he leans back into the booth.

“He’s right, him walking you into school isn’t going to be enough to convince him; he sounds persistent.” Minjeong agrees.

“The most he is allowed to do is kiss you on the cheek to make it believable, but that’s it.” Yunjin says looking at Yeonjun to make sure he understands.

“I don’t get a say in whether or not I agree to this?” Yeonjun asks, looking at everyone, but landing on you.

“No.” the rest of you say in unison.

He laughs before finishing his drink. “Okay. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”

-

Even as Yeonjun pulls his motorcycle to a stop in front of your campus, he can still feel your fingernails practically digging into his stomach. 

He lifts up the visor on his helmet, “Can you please stop trying to claw your way into my intestines?”

You let go of him all together and he lets out the breath that he has been holding in. 

“Sorry.” you say, it sounding muffled under the helmet. He smiles, taking off his helmet after getting off the bike. He sets his helmet down and holds out his hand for you to take. You take it, him helping you off, before he helps you take off the helmet. “Thanks.” you say and he shrugs his shoulders as a reply. 

He glances over his shoulder, noticing people looking at him and you, whispering. “So, which one is the stalker?” he asks, trying to be discreet.

You turn your head to look, not seeing Heeseung anywhere, oddly enough. You scoff, “The one day he isn’t here is the day that you bring me.” you roll your eyes and Yeonjun shrugs.

“Well, see you later.”

“Woah-wait. I still need you to walk me.” you say, grabbing one of his shoulders to stop him from leaving.

“What? Why? You just said he isn’t here.”

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t need reinforcements.”

Yeonjun groans, but turns back around to face your campus. You clear your throat before reaching to hold his hand. You intertwine your fingers, looking at each other through the corners of your eyes, confirming that you’re ready to go. You walk hesitantly at first, but the further you get, Yeonjun releases his hand from yours to put his arm around you. Low and behold, once you made your way to the front of your class, Heeseung was there waiting right beside the door.

He, of course, hadn’t been there the whole time. He was pacing back and forth in the bathroom before working up the courage to actually make his way to your class, a part of him hoping he had just missed you so he wouldn’t actually have to see you with someone else. Yet there you are, walking up to him (well, your class), with some dude who looked like he was trying too hard to be cool with his arm around you. He felt sick and the closer you came, the more he felt like vomiting. 

You smiled, stopping in front of your class door with Yeonjun. 

“Oh Heeseung, you’re actually here, I thought you chickened out.”

He smiles, annoyed. His gaze shifts over to Yeonjun and Yeonjun smirks.

“So this is Heeseung?” He asks, eyeing him up and down.

Heeseung pokes his tongue in the side of his cheek. He looks back at Yeonjun and eyes him up and down before crossing his arms. Although he currently feels sick to his stomach, he’s still a little suspicious. 

“Am I supposed to believe you’re her boyfriend?”

Yeonjun scoffs, crossing his arms, “You can believe what you want,” he steps closer to Heeseung, leaning close to his ear making Heeseung tense up, “but you better stop messing with her regardless.”

He pulls back, smiling at Heeseung and patting one of his shoulders. Heeseung scowls, wiping off his shoulder as Yeonjun turns to you. You smile at him, ignoring Heeseungs glares.

“Have a good day, babe.” he says before kissing you on your cheek. He glances back over his shoulder before snickering at Heeseung and walking away.

You smile proudly at Heeseung while he looks at you in complete and utter shock. Did he just see what he think he just saw? He couldn’t believe it, he didn’t want to believe it. 

“Well,” you say, making him snap out of his thoughts, “you heard him: stop bothering me.” you say before going into your class.

-

“I heard from some people that he has a motorcycle and he brought her on it today.” Jake says while taking some food off of Sunghoon’s tray, earning a glare from him.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, clenching his fork harder in his hand. “I don’t get it, he’s not even her type.”

Sunghoon laughs and Heeseung scowls at him. “How would you know? You’re not exactly close with her.”

“I think it’s time for you to just leave her alone, you’ve been bugging her since we were kids.” Jay comments.

Heeseung goes quiet. Should he give up? He reminisces about the time he first saw you, laughing with your friend, and the only thing he could think about was how pretty you look when you smile. He isn’t the type to hide how he feels and he thought you would be pleasantly surprised by how open he is about how he feels about you, but when you rejected him after he bought you your favorite drink, he was confused. He didn’t want to give up, though, because all he wanted was to be able to make you laugh just like when he first saw you.

“Jay’s right, the joke has gone on for long enough.” Jake adds.

Heeseung looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Joke? What are you talking about?”

Before Jake can answer, a girl walks up and takes a seat in one of the open chairs at the table. Everyone’s eyes go to her as she smiles.

“Hi,” she says shyly, “Heeseung, can I speak with you privately?”

“No, thanks.” he replies, continuing to eat his food.

Jake tries to suppress his laugh and Jay kicks him from under the table. Jake’s smile falls as he kicks Jay back.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Jay warns.

“You started it.” Jake mumbles.

“Well, I was just wondering,” everyone looks back at the girl, momentarily forgetting she was even there, “if you would like to get coffee with me after school.” she says, moving some of her hair behind her ear.

“No, thanks.” Heeseung says in the same uninterested tone as before, not bothering to spare her another glance as he continues eating.

She sits there, a little taken aback as an awkward silence settles. Sunghoon clears his throat before taking another bite of his food. The girl stands up and walks away, not bothering to push back in the chair; Jay and Jake watch her as she leaves.

“She was cute, why did you say no?” Jake asks.

“We know why.” Jay says, drinking some of his water.

“You’ve been turning down every girl that asks you out for years, don’t you want to at least try and date someone?” Jake asks.

Heeseung groans and sets down his fork. “What’s the point? No one else is worth the time.”

-

“You all should have seen his face.” Yeonjun beams as you and your friend group continue roaming throughout the mall.

“So, it worked?” Minjeong questioned and you nodded your head happily.

“I didn’t see him for the rest of the day and he didn’t say anything else once Yeonjun left.” you replied happily.

“And there was nothing more than a kiss on the cheek?” Yunjin questioned.

“Of course.” Yeonjun says, kissing her quickly.

You and the others groan as they both just smile at each other. 

“Oh!” Minjeong says, grabbing your hand. You look at her and then the store she was looking at, “They finally restocked the perfume I was telling you about.”

“I can’t afford that.”

She rolls her eyes, “You can’t, but I can, now come on.” she says, pulling you with her.

“I’d rather not be stuck with you two sickos, so I’m going to go with them.” Beomgyu states to Yunjin and Yeonjun before heading off to follow you and Minjeong. 

Yeonjun grimaces and mocks Beomgyu as he walks off and Yunjin laughs.

As much as Heeseung would rather have gone home straight after classes than come to the mall to help Jake pick out a new keyboard, he came anyway due to his friend’s consistent pestering. 

“You’re paying me back for gas money, I hope you know that.” Heeseung mumbles.

Jake scoffs, “You’re richer than I am, besides, friends carpool other friends.” Heeseung rolls his eyes as he and Jake make their way to the store. Heeseung opens his mouth to say something, but is caught off guard by loud giggling coming across from where he and Jake are. Both of them look in the direction of where the noise is coming from to see Yeonjun and Yunjin laughing, her hitting his shoulder playfully and him scattering kisses on her face. Heeseung stops dead in his tracks. Jake stops walking and looks between Heeseung and the couple. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

Heeseung could feel anger surging through his body. Isn’t that guy your boyfriend? Why was he so publicly flirting with this other girl? Is he cheating on you? Unknown to him, Heeseung was walking towards the two, blinded by rage. Jake tries to call after him, but it just sounded like static to Heeseung. Jake rushes to catch up to him, trying to figure out what he was going to do and why he was even doing something in the first place. Heeseung stands in front of Yeonjun, making both Yeonjun and Yunjin turn their attention towards him.

“Shit.” Yeonjun mumbles.

Heeseung didn’t have the patience to ask any questions, he knew he was right in the first place. This guy had some nerve to hurt you like this, so before anyone had another chance to say a word, Heeseung clenched his hand into a fist and punched Yeonjun in the face.

“What the hell!?” Yunjin exclaims, grabbing onto Yeonjun’s arm as he falls to the ground.

Heeseung didn’t pay any attention to the throbbing pain from his hand and raises his fist to punch him again, but Jake stops him. Yeonjun touches his face, blood dripping from his nose as he looks up at Heeseung, clenching his jaw in anger.

“You son of a b-”

“Don’t start with that, you’re the one cheating.”

Yunjin scoffs and stands up to slap Heeseung. “You have some nerve to punch my boyfriend, asshole.”

“What the hell is going on?” Beomgyu questions as you, him, and Minjeong come out from the store.

You look around to see the chaos that has ensued as well as people starting to crowd around all of you.

“This idiot punched my boyfriend because he thinks he’s cheating on you.” Yunjin says shooting you a glare as she helps Yeonjun off of the floor.

“You did what?” you turn to Heeseung.

“Isn’t he your boyfriend? Why aren’t you upset that he’s cheating on you?” Heeseung asks, confused and starting to feel the pain from his hand as the adrenaline and anger start to subside.

You open your mouth to say something, but Yunjin interrupts you. “Maybe because he isn’t actually her boyfriend.”

Heeseung looks between you and her, confused.

“Bu-”

“They only pretended to be dating because she wanted you to back off.” Yunjin seethed.

Heeseung wasn’t sure how to process all of this information, let alone, he wasn’t even sure if he was.

“Yunjin-” you try to apologize, but she pushes past you with Yeonjun. You try to grab her hand, but she pulls away and turns to you.

“It went too far.” she says, trying to control her temper before turning around to walk away with Yeonjun.

You turn to look at Minjeong and Beomgyu, but they both just look at each other awkwardly. 

“We should probably go with them.” Beomgyu says.

Minjeong nods her head, agreeing, but before they both walk past you, she stops, “I’m sure if you try talking to her tomorrow, she’ll forgive you.”

You bite the inner part of your cheek as they walk away. The crowd starts to disperse, still earning a few questioning glances from those passing by. You glare at Heeseung and begin to walk away.

“Look, I didn’t-” he tries to explain, but you cut him off by turning around, now face-to-face with him.

Tears sting as they begin to brim your eyes. There are so many things you could say to him right now, so many things to yell, but for once you find yourself to be at a loss. He too, is also at a loss for words. Seeing you look at him this way, tears in your eyes, he feels so ashamed and embarrassed. 

“Just leave me alone.” you say through shallow breaths, trying your hardest not to cry in front of him.

You knew to him this was all some sick joke, so you doubt he would actually listen to you, but you hoped there was some small part of him that would finally see you never found any of this to be funny and that he has finally taken it too far.

-

You have never dreaded walking to your class this morning more than you do at this very moment; you just don’t have the energy to put up with Heeseung now or even ever again. You tried texting Yunjin, but she never replied let alone even opened the messages. You were so wrapped up in your emotions you didn’t even realize you made it to your class in peace. Relieved was an understatement about how you were currently feeling, but you also felt oddly sick. 

Although you didn’t want him bothering you, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the fact that he didn’t even try to apologize once while you were on your way to class. It was the least he could do, afterall. He pretty much destroyed your friendships with your closest friends and now that he’s had his fun, he no longer felt the need to keep up the act? The more you thought about it, the more angry you became. You knew you hated him before, but you’ve never been this furious with him, not even at his attempts to rub his wealth in your face by buying you things. No, this was a new low, even for him, but you keep trying to tell yourself you should’ve seen it coming.

-

“Oh hell no.” Yunjin mumbles before standing up from the steps she and the others were sitting on. Heeseung approaches cautiously as he feels their eyes burning into him with their intensive stares. “You really are a stalker, how did you even know what university I go to?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 

“It’s in our high school yearbooks, everyone put where they were going.” he replied. Yunjin scowls, hoping he would get the idea and leave once and for all. “I came to apologize. I just-” he pauses, looking away while clenching his jaw before looking back at them. “I’m sorry I punched you.” he says to Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun looks at him, unimpressed. 

“You suck at apologizing.” Yunjin states.

“I thought he was cheating! I didn’t know-” he groans, becoming frustrated. He tries to calm down, running his hand through his hair before speaking again. “All I want to say is that I really am sorry, I was just trying to look out for your friend, okay? She deserves better and when I saw who I thought was her boyfriend kissing someone else, I just…handled things poorly.”

Yeonjun gets up to stand next to Yunjin, draping his arm around her shoulders. “I get it, you didn’t know.”

Yunjin scoffs, “You’ve officially taken this joke of yours too far, so stop acting like you care about her and just admit it already.”

“Why does everyone think I’m joking?” he asks, both frustrated and genuinely.

“Everyone in school knew you were joking. I thought you took it too far back when you bought her a pair of some new, expensive shoes.”

Is that really how everyone saw it? Is that really how you see it?

“I bought her the shoes because she had her old ones for years and had bandaids for the blisters she was clearly getting. I also bought her extra bandages, did you forget about that?”

Yunjin stops scowling, “So you aren’t just messing with her because she rejected you?”

“Of course not, I really care about her. I know I annoy her, but I never thought she would think I was doing all of this just to hurt her feelings.”

Yunjin stands there for a second, questioning whether or not she believes him. 

“You’re right,” she starts, making eye contact with Heeseung, “she deserves the best.” It falls quiet again for a moment, mainly because Yunjin is wondering whether or not she wants to give him a chance to prove himself to you. “We’re going to meet at the club downtown around ten, if you really mean what you say, you should come.”

Heeseung stands there, stunned. Does this mean she believes him? Does this mean they all believe him? Does this mean you’ll believe him? As they walk away from the steps, they all look at him, but not the same way they did when he first came over; skeptical. They all looked at him like they wanted what he said to be true and tonight is the night he is going to prove it.

-

You walked into the club, anxious, yet grateful that Yunjin finally responded to one of your messages. You wanted tonight to be like any other night that you all hang out here, like everything was back to normal; like it was before the whole debacle with Heeseung at the mall. You made your way past the crowds of people through the darkly lit club, over to the booth you all usually sit at. 

“Hey.” you say, trying not to sound awkward.

Yunjin sheepishly smiles, “Hey.” she says.

“Are you guys going to kiss and make up now?” Beomgyu asks, honestly over all of the drama.

Everyone laughs and Minjeong hands you your usual drink as you all make your way to the dance floor. From there, you move your body to the music, just wanting to let go of all the stress you’ve been under lately. Dancing along with your friends, having a good time, is all you care about at this very moment. You were enjoying yourself, feeling confident in the outfit you chose to wear paired along with the light buzz from the alcohol you were drinking. You closed your eyes as you soaked it all in; it felt like nothing could disrupt this feeling.

“Wow…” you hear someone say before they trail off.

You open your eyes and freeze. You know this voice a little all-too-well. Your grip on the glass you are holding in your hand becomes tighter as you slowly turn towards the person who was speaking. Your eyes lock with Heeseungs as he looks at you in awe. You look stunning and he felt like all of the air from his lungs had escaped the second he saw you; breathless. You walk closer to him, so he wouldn’t get any crazy ideas and try to do something else to your friends, but as you got closer to him you couldn’t help but think about how nice he smells. You shake the thought from your head as you look up at him, your eyes meeting once again. 

All thoughts you previously had were now gone; he made your mind go blank. Have his eyes always been this pretty? No…what the hell are you thinking? Pull yourself together.

“Do you take nothing I say seriously?” you manage to blurt out.

He smiles, happy that you’re talking to him (and just because he’s happy to see you in general).

“For all the years you’ve known me, you should know better than anyone else that I can’t stay away from you.” he replies before smirking.

That smug attitude thankfully snapped you out of whatever weird thoughts you were having earlier and brought you back to reality: he’s a prick. You roll your eyes and push yourself past him as you head to the bar to return your glass. You set the glass down a little harsher than you anticipated and Heeseung follows you as you make your way out of the club. He calls after you, but you ignore him. Nothing is going to change, apparently. But as you’ve said to yourself before: you really shouldn’t be surprised.

Heeseung stops calling after you and instead catches up to you, grabbing your hand gently so you would stop walking away from him. You turn to face him, looking down at your hands for a split second, feeling a different kind of buzz result from it. You try to shake his hand away, but he doesn’t budge. You meet his eyes, feeling your heart begin to race. As much as you tried to stop, something was happening, and you were certainly not a huge fan. 

“I spoke with your friends earlier and apologized.”

He did what? Wait…have you been hallucinating this whole time? That would explain why you suddenly feel this way because you know, not in any lifetime, would you possibly have feelings for Lee Heeseung. 

“How?” is all you could manage to say. 

Your mind was running a thousand miles a minute, not really in any shape to hold any kind of conversation, but especially not one with Heeseung.

“I made a mistake. I have a lot of things I want to apologize to you for.”

He spoke so gently and sweetly; it was like he was hypnotizing you. The streets were oddly quiet, not too many people, but you could still hear the music from the club. You found yourself staring at him in amazement. The fluorescent lights from the signs of stores nearby and the streetlights felt as though they were shining on the both of you, like you two were the only people who matter.

“What?” is all you can think to say.

“I’m sorry I’ve been bothering you to the point where you felt like you had no other choice but to lie.” he says, taking a step closer to you. “I’m sorry I made you and your friend fight.” he takes another step closer to you. You felt your breath hitch as your eyes traveled along his figure. Has he always looked this good in a black button up and black pants? It doesn’t help that his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you find yourself staring at his arms.

He waits for you. He waits for you while he clearly sees you checking him out and it’s turning him on. God, you look so beautiful and the way you are looking at him, slowly taking in everything about him as if you are seeing him for the first time makes him want to kiss you; it makes him want to do a lot more. When your eyes meet his again, he takes this as an opportunity to step closer to you, placing his other hand on your cheek, gently cupping your face. He wants to be gentle because you are one of the most precious things to him. He leans close to your face, each others’ breath scattering lightly along one anothers face. 

“And I’m sorry,” he whispers as he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek, still looking into your eyes, “for making you feel like a joke.”

You feel yourself tense up. “Was it? All a joke…” you trail off, not necessarily sure what you want to happen next.

He continues looking into your eyes, never looking away because he wants you to know that he is being serious; that he means every word he says.

“Not for a second.” he replies.

You think back to everything he has done for you in a new perspective. How he would leave your favorite snack on your desk on test days, notes telling you how well you did after a presentation, volunteering to be your partner because he didn’t want you to feel alone or left out, buying you your favorite drink if you forgot to bring money for it, and asking you out to a restaurant that holds a special meaning to him and he only wants to share it with you. 

You want to kiss him, but you find yourself pulling away instead. He looks at you, confused, as you separate yourself from him, letting go of his hand. 

“I should get home. You know how early my morning class is.” you say while looking at the ground.

“Are you walking home? This late?”

You step back a little bit, finally looking back at him and you smile nervously. “I usually take the bus, but I think I missed the last one, so yeah, I guess I am.” you say kind of bunched together. Are you nervous?

“I can just drive you home.” he says, not really offering, more like telling.

You shake your head as your eyes shift to one of the cars in front of the club. You recognized it as his since he drives it to school everyday. A small, small part of you would love to ride in it, but you can walk home yourself (even if you also know it’s a bad idea).

“Yeah, I’m not letting you walk home alone this late.” he says, no longer wondering why you pulled away from him, but more concerned for your safety. He reaches for your hand and you let him take it, even if you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. You both walk over to his car and he opens the door for you to get in. You look at him and he looks back at you, not intending on budging from his offer. You roll your eyes playfully as you get into the car. He closes the door and walks over to get into the driver's seat. He gets in and closes the door before starting his engine. You sit there, a little surprised you were even in his car in the first place. “You kind of need to put on your seatbelt.” he says, nodding his head towards the seatbelt that you left untouched. 

You laugh nervously, but for some reason, you still don’t think to move to put it on. He sighs, smiling to himself at your cuteness, before leaning over to grab the seatbelt, slowly extending it over your body before clicking it into place. He looks at you, your faces inches apart, and you feel your breathing quicken once again. His heart begins to beat faster, but he can’t stop looking at you; you’re stunning. He manages to pull himself away, worried he might make you feel uncomfortable, before putting on his own seatbelt and putting the car in drive. 

“Do you want to tell me how to get to your house?” he asks as he pulls out of the parking spot.

Your eyes widen. Right, your house. A house that--you assume--is nowhere near as nice as his house. What if once he sees just how different you two are he will stop liking you? What if he was lying before and this was his final cruel attempt to make fun of you? You shake your head.

“I would rather not tell you.”

He steps on the brake, turning his head to look at you.

“You…don’t want to tell me?”

You shake your head, hoping he’ll give up and let you out of the car. You hear him let out a tut, making you turn your head to look at him.

“Would you rather I take you to my place?” he asks, trying not to sound nervous.

Not particularly, you kind of already planned on going to bed once you got back home, but you stayed quiet, leaving him to answer his own question. He sighs, releasing his foot off the brake.

-

Heeseung pulls up to a gate that guards a huge house behind it. Your mouth falls a little agape as you look at it, thinking about how the driveway is the size of your own home. He puts in the code, opening the gate, and driving up the huge driveway. He parks the car and turns off the engine, unbuckling his seatbelt before looking at you. 

“Do you need me to unbuckle it for you?” he asks while smirking.

You kind of want him to, but you opt for doing it yourself. You both get out of the car and he waits for you before he begins to lead the way. You can’t stop looking around as you two walk up the stairs leading to the (in your opinion) oversized doors, to which he opens and lets you walk in first. The house is even more luxurious on the inside than it is on the outside, which you honestly didn’t think could be possible. He shuts the door behind him and you both take off your shoes. You feel out of place, starting to feel insecure. The guy with all of this money to have this grand living room with a huge television, windows covering the walls and expensive furniture littered everywhere claims to like you? And has for years? You were starting to find it hard to believe again. 

“I hope this is okay.” he says, breaking the silence. 

You weren’t sure what he meant, but you assume he’s hoping it’s okay that he brought you here. He starts heading for the staircase and you follow behind, still taking in your surroundings. He leads you to his room, and you decide to stand by the doorframe. To you, it doesn’t seem like the downstairs even needs a living room since he already has a couch and t.v. in his room along with a big bed laying on a platform and more windows for walls. A beep is heard and the curtains for his windows start automatically covering them and the two lamps on his bedside tables turn on. He looks back at you, smiling at your expression that he finds to be adorable. 

“You can come in, you know.” he says as he rummages through some drawers.

You hesitantly walk into his room, somehow just noticing how nice it smells, and find the confidence to walk up the few steps to his bed to take a seat. You turn your head to look around some more and Heeseung looks up, stopping what he is doing upon seeing you on his bed. You are on his bed. Is he dreaming? He honestly never thought this day would come and he clears his throat to try and calm his nerves, making you look at him.

“What are you doing?” you finally ask.

He grabs what he came in for and walks over to you holding out the clothes he picked himself.

“The guest rooms don’t have any clothes in them, so you can borrow mine.”

Did he just say “rooms” as in plural, like multiple? 

“Right, naturally.” you tease.

He smiles and you stand to grab the clothes from him. You hold them as you look up at him, once again meeting his eyes. That feeling starts to form again, the one where you don’t want to stop looking at him and certainly don’t want him to stop looking at you.

“I forgive you.” you whisper.

He looks confused for a second before he understands what you mean. He smiles.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.” 

You aren’t sure if it’s the atmosphere, the way he smells, the way he’s looking at you, or all three combined, but before you can even process what you are doing, you are tossing the clothes he handed you onto the floor and pulling him by the collar to kiss you.

Holy. Shit. You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him. One of your hands moves to hold the side of his neck while the other moves to the back of his hair as you start running your fingers through it, gripping it here and there. He moves his hands to hold your waist, squeezing them lightly from anticipation, as he kisses you back. He gains more confidence, pulling you as closely as possible to him, as he deepens the kiss. He is desperate for you, he is desperate to show you how he feels. He lifts you up and your legs wrap around his waist, him carefully carrying you and placing you onto his bed. He lays you down as you two continue to kiss, him pulling away from your lips and beginning to leave a trail of light, breathy, kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. Your chest raises from the deep breath you take and he swears he is going to lose his mind from looking at you in your current state. The state he is currently leaving you in. 

His hands roam your body, wanting to feel every inch of you.

“Heeseung…” you say breathlessly, practically sending him over the edge.

He can feel his erection growing and you saying his name like that makes his cock ache harder. He pulls away from leaving hickeys along your chest, pulling you up by the waist so he can lift your dress off of you. He pulls it over your head and you help him, throwing the dress off to the side. He rests his forehead on yours, trying to calm his breathing and you begin to palm his erection. He whines, moving your hand away before laying you back down. His eyes scan your body, now realizing you were never wearing a bra. There you are, laying on his bed in nothing other than your underwear and he has to try and collect himself before he cums in his pants at just the mere sight of you. His right hand begins to travel up your leg, his fingers lightly running along your skin as he continues to look at you, look at every inch of you. His fingers travel past your hip up to your breasts where he cups one of them, earning a small gasp from you.

He bites the inner part of his cheek, trying to contain himself as he fondles your breast, playing with your nipple, watching how your face contorts in pleasure. He leans down to leave light kisses on your shoulder, looking at your face between each one, going down and stopping at your other breast before latching his mouth around your nipple. You bite your lip, one of your hands comes to grip his hair. He moans as he swirls his tongue around your nipple, occasionally flicking it. He felt drunk and so incredibly turned on. He stops fondling your other breast with his hand and lightly trails his fingers down to your underwear, sticking his hand inside. You gasp again, his fingers feeling a little cold as he runs them along your wet folds. 

Fuck he was making you feel good and you let out a moan, making him smirk. He sticks a finger in, making you grip his hair a little harder, and so he sticks in two. You moan again and he pulls away from your breast to kiss you as his fingers pump in and out of you. You’ve become so wet that you start to cover his hand in your wetness, the sound of his hand coming in constant contact with your pussy starting to fill the room. You feel yourself become close and your mouth falls agape. He stops kissing you and pulls back as well as pulling his fingers out of you. You open your eyes, the dim lights suddenly being so bright as you try to process what is happening.

He brings his fingers to his lips, licking off your arousal from them. His eyes close as he inhales deeply, consumed by the taste of you.

“Please, Heeseung…” you start to plead.

He opens his eyes and figures he can’t leave you without what you want. So, in honor of a fair trade since he feels intoxicated by your taste, he takes off your underwear and throws your legs over his shoulders as he positions his face in front of your pussy. You swallow harshly as you feel his breath on you before he licks a stripe along your core, causing your eyes to roll back a little bit and your back arch at the sudden contact. His hands grip the sides of your thighs as he indulges in you, licking up every last drop of you before making his way to your clit and sucking on it.

“Fuck, Heeseung…” you moan out breathlessly.

He’s too consumed by your taste to notice and he pulls you more into his face. He moans into you, one of his hands leaving your thigh as he starts to finger you again. He hears you moaning and gasping, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you. Just the sight of you causes him to pick up his pace, his fingers rapidly going in and out of you and the more you moan, the more turned on he gets. You feel yourself become closer, gripping the sheets as you call out his name. That mixed with the taste of you on his tongue makes him moan. You taste so good, you look so beautiful, he feels like the luckiest man alive to have you call out his name. He sucks harder and pumps faster as he moans into you, cumming in his pants. 

Your head falls deeper into the pillow you were laying on as you release yourself all over his fingers, mouth, and face. His movements begin to slow down as he calms down from his high and he pulls away, seeing your legs shaking a bit. He sits back, taking your legs off of his shoulders and you look at him. His face is flushed and shiny because of your cum, which he didn’t mind. He licked his fingers again, trying to catch his breath afterwards and you find the energy to sit up. 

You pull him in for a kiss and his hands land on your ass, squeezing it. You moan and reach your slightly shaky hands up to the buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning them. You pull away as you take the shirt off of him, throwing it to the side. This time, you leave a trail of kisses from his jaw to his neck, his mouth falling agape from pleasure. He was becoming hard again and so you started to undo his belt as well as the button and zipper on his pants. You can hear him let out shallow breaths, and he pulls you back to kiss him on the lips. You kiss each other with so much need, and as you start taking off his pants, he pulls away to take them off himself. 

You watch as he does, seeing his bulge through his underwear along with the cum stain from earlier. You smirk, which makes him feel a little shy.

“Come here.” you say, your eyes flicking back to meet his.

He listens, and you move each other so he is now the one laying back as you sit between his legs. He swallows harshly, completely turned on by the sight of your bare self looking at him in such a sinful way. Fuck, he wants you to ruin him. You keep eye contact with him as you lightly grab the edge of his boxers. His breath hitches as he becomes increasingly more nervous and he bites his lip as you run your pointer finger over his v-line. You smirk, slowly pulling his boxers off of him and finally letting his aching cock free. You cast aside his boxers, lightly running your fingers along his length, making him let out little moans, trying to decide what you want to do next. Seeing him like this, you decide you can’t wait any longer, so you position yourself over his cock, one hand holding onto his shoulder as the other guides it into your cunt. 

You both throw your heads back as you let out a moan in unison. You slowly sank onto his length and he watched in awe. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening and when you finally settled fully onto his cock, his mind felt fuzzy. You felt so fucking good and here you were, riding his dick with hickies all over your chest and neck made by him. Consumed by his thoughts, he gripped your hips a little bit harsher as he let out a stifled breath. You look at him, wondering what was happening, but feeling his cock twitch inside of you and him letting out a string of moans and apologies answered your question quickly as he came inside of you. 

His breathing settled after his release and he looks at you, eyes a little hazy, but full of pleasure; he looked so fucked out. 

“I’m so sorry.” he half whispers and half exclaims. 

He really meant it and to be honest, he was kind of embarrassed. You shake your head.

“Don’t be,” you say, starting to rock your hips, causing his eyes to roll back in pleasure, “it was hot.” You pick up your speed and call out his name from how good he is making you feel. “Shit…” you whine as you start to lose momentum from the pleasure. He notices and adjusts himself so he is laying a little bit lower to which he slings his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You let out a small yelp as he hoists his hips up, thrusting into you, fast and deep. “Fuck…” you call out into his ear, making him pick up his pace. 

Moans mixed with the sound of his cock rutting into you fills the room and you grip the sheets as you feel yourself clench around him.

“Fuck-” Heeseung starts, but is cut off by his own moans from being close to his climax.

He thrusts into you faster and you clench around him harsher, your legs shaking as you cum all over his dick. He grips your waist harsher and clenches his jaw, breathy moans still escaping through his teeth as he cums–once again–inside of you. He does a few more thrusts to ride out his high before pulling out of your throbbing cunt. You both lay there for a moment, you still on top of him, trying to catch your breath.

“So…” Heeseung starts. You lift your head slightly to look him in the eyes and he smiles sheepishly, “does this mean you’ll go on that date with me?” he asks, hopeful.

You roll your eyes, “God, you’re annoying.” you say before smiling.

[romanoffsdarling]

Summertime Sadness

Pairing: Dom!Wanda Maximoff x MILF!Reader

Summary: You hadn’t expected the summer after your divorce to be anything more than you simply getting used to being alone and drowning your sorrows in glasses of wine. The sudden homecoming of your daughter brings those plans to a screeching halt, but nothing could have prepared you for the woman that she brought along. Her best friend, the woman you’ve been hearing about in all of her phone calls home, offering you a glimpse into parts of yourself you never even knew were there. 

Word Count: 4,891

Warnings: Legal age gap, oral (R receiving), fingering (R receiving), and hints of possessiveness. 18+, Minors DNI.

Author’s Note: I’ve seen a lot of stories with Wanda being the MILF, rightfully so, but I wanted to spin it a bit and make the Reader the MILF in this instance. Hope you all enjoy! (Also, I’m so sorry for disappearing for so long, college has been absolute hell.)

You never truly comprehend how much time you waste, how much had truly slipped through your fingers, until it’s already too late to do anything about it. Until you look into the mirror and see the once youthful face marred by faint wrinkles, a sign of wisdom your best friend would tease, and hair speckled with the vaguest hint of grey. 

Twenty-five years... You had been married to your husband for twenty-five years; giving him your youth, giving him your heart and soul, and you never once imagined that he would have tossed all of that away for some floozy at his law firm. Never thought that you’d look down at your left hand and not see the delicate gold band situated on your ring finger. Of course, even now, you didn’t regret marrying him-- for it had given you the house you lived in now, the friends that had flocked to your side when the news of his infidelity spread through the neighborhood, and it gave you your darling daughter. Even if she was not yours by blood, you couldn’t imagine anyone housing the same space in your heart like your beautiful Natasha did. 

All you did regret was being stupid enough to trust him so much. For putting your faith, and your dreams, in his clearly incapable hands. It had hurt, and still does hurt, but it wasn’t because you had lost him-- your marriage, in truth, had been dead for years-- but for all the time you had lost in chasing smoke and mirrors; in staying for something that should have been let go of long ago. You hated him for what he did, for getting caught with his pants down in between his secretary’s thighs, but you hated him even more for not being man enough to simply let you go, to give up the fight when it had already been lost after his first thirty seconds with his new whore, and it’s for that reason that you were currently scrubbing every inch of his old office clean. 

You wanted to get rid of any reminder of him-- both in your home and in your mind. 

The smell of bleach and lemon disinfectant surrounds you, but you had long grown used to the cloying scent. Dark oak floors, and the matching desk, gleamed underneath the antique lighting of the room; it had been a long time since they had been given the proper care they needed. It seems that I have more in common with inanimate objects that I thought, you muse, a sense of bittersweet irony strewn within the thought. 

Settling back on your haunches, a sigh escapes your lips, and you roll your shoulders, wanting to relieve the tension that had been slowly building up for the past couple of hours. “I’m not getting any younger,” you mutter, tossing the damp rag to the side. “I just hope everything will get a bit easier.” 

Even to yourself you knew that was asking for a miracle. 

Before you could delve down into that specific line of thought, you faintly hear the sound of the front door being opened and the familiar sound of jangling keys with the slightly deadpan calling of ‘mom’ permeates the usual silence. The sound, although not unwelcome in the slightest, causes a small frown to furrow your brow all the same. 

“Natasha?” You call back, already making your way towards the living room, sure that your confusion rung clearly within your tone. An expression that only grows that much more pronounced when you’re met with the shimmering gaze of your daughter; tousled red hair cut short, falling to just above her shoulders, and her usual penchant of wearing darker colors being tantamount. “What are you doing home, sweetheart? I wasn’t expecting you for another month.” 

Her lips twist in a wry smile. “Are you not happy to see me, mother?” She tilts her head, faux hurt making an appearance. “I thought you’d be glad to see me.”

You gently swat her arm, before pulling her into a tight hug. “Of course, I’m happy to see you, Natasha,” you murmur, your lips briefly brush across her cheek before you disentangle from her completely. “I just know how you value your independence too.”

“I knew that you were alone in the house, mom,” she replies, a shrug calmly following her words. “I didn’t want you to wallow in self-pity while that fucker I call a father gets his rocks off with someone half his age across town.” 

“Language, Natasha,” you gently chide, well aware your daughter was in her early twenties now and didn’t need to be reprimanded for it. “You know that your father still loves you dearly, and I believe he’s excited to see you whenever you get around to going to his new house.” 

Jade eyes roll so hard you’re almost concerned about them getting stuck. “He should have thought about that before he stuck his tongue down someone else’s throat.” Natasha’s lips press into a line, clearly agitated, but she takes a deep breath through her nose and forcibly calms herself down. “But I’m not here to talk about him. I’m here to spend time with you.” 

Sudden movement from behind Natasha causes your reply to catch in your throat when you finally focus on the woman standing behind your daughter. Whose presence you were completely astonished you hadn’t noticed before, especially given how electrifying it felt to have her emerald eyes honed directly on you, but your gentle smile doesn’t fall away; even if you do feel it twitch slightly due to your surprise. Your hand, that was near enough to your daughter’s forearm, clenches around it in a silent reprimand, but you try your best to keep the pleasant tone to your voice. 

“I see that my daughter didn’t think it best to introduce her guest first.” You gently pinch Natasha once before stepping closer to the unknown woman in your home. “I apologize for not noticing you sooner.” 

The woman smirks, the light emerald of her eyes shifting to tantalizing jade as she observes you. “It’s quite alright,” she replies, her voice a husky whisper that’s enveloped in an accent you couldn’t pinpoint the origin of. “I’m not surprised that Nat was too focused on her mother to remember me.” 

Subtext is etched into every inch of that statement, but you didn’t have time to even try to sift through it before your daughter’s teasing voice cuts through. 

“It’s not my fault my mother is more interesting than you, Wanda.” She slides past you to stand beside the now smiling woman. “You just need to learn to get on her level.”

Wanda’s gaze shifts from your daughter to you once more-- the barest hint of her earlier smirk returning. “I don’t know, Nat,” she teases, amusement, mixed with something else you couldn’t put a name to, laced within her words. “I think I quite like my view from where I’m at.”

Your daughter, once again, rolls her eyes skyward but her easygoing smile doesn’t leave her lips. “Mom.” She turns back to you and gestures towards Wanda. “This is Wanda Maximoff, I’ve talked about her a bit when I’ve called home.” 

The name finally clicks into place within your head. Memories of your daughter’s exasperated voice, filled with hints of fondness, come forth from the recesses of your mind. All of the stories, all of the thinly veiled jokes, that your daughter had shared with you, and the clear warmth that she felt for the other woman, brings a fond smile to your lips. An expression that causes various emotions to flicker across Wanda’s face for the briefest of moments before it smooths over. 

“So, you’re the one my daughter kept talking about?” You couldn’t keep the genuine amusement out of your tone if you tried. “Her best friend?”

Wanda arches a brow. “I’m your best friend, Nat?” She playfully places her hands to her heart. “I’m honored that you think so highly of me.” 

You can tell your daughter just barely refrains from rolling her eyes. Not even bothering to deign Wanda’s teasing words with a response, Natasha turns back to you. “Can we go put our things away, mom?” She rolls her shoulders, and, for the first time, you notice how tired she looked. Of course, it was over a four-hour drive from your house in Westview to her college in Ithaca. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” you soothed. “I’m just going to finish up some work down here and then I’ll get started on dinner, okay?”

Natasha smiles. “You’re the best, mom.” 

Your heart flutters at her words, a simple compliment to most, but one that you’ve desperately needed in the last few months. Knowing that you may start crying at any moment if you tried to speak, you wave your daughter towards the stairs and step back towards the hallway to continue your work in the office. But, before you could a throat clearing behind you causes you to turn back around-- only to be met by beautiful emerald eyes that seemed to encompass you in a bubble you didn’t know if you wanted to escape from. 

“Is everything alright, Wanda?” Your gaze quickly flicks over her body: from the black skinny jeans with holes, to the simple red leather jacket, and the casually tousled way her dark auburn hair fell over her shoulders. “Did you need something?” 

Pale pink lips quirk for a moment, before a genuine look of something passes over Wanda’s face once more. “I don’t need anything.” She shakes her head, a low chuckle escapes her, but you weren’t quite sure what was so funny. “I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here with Natasha. Especially since it was clear you didn’t know I was coming in the first place.” 

“It’s not a problem, Wanda,” you reply, a smile of your own playing across your lips. “I’m glad that I won’t be alone in this house for however long you both decide to stay. It definitely beats what I was going to do.”

“What were you going to do?” 

You shrug. “Just wallow around and get drunk off of some wine.”

Wanda considers you for a moment, emerald eyes cast in shadow. “I’m not so sure about the wallowing, but I’d love to have a glass of wine with you sometime.” 

“Oh.” You’re surprised by the simplicity in which Wanda makes the offer. None of Natasha’s previous friends, or best friends, had ever bothered, or seemed that keen, to spend time with you. Not that you’d ever fault them for doing so. Who would want to spend time with the parents of their best friend? “I’m sure you’ll have much more interesting things to do, Wanda.” 

A smile, much softer than the one’s she had shown you before, plays at the corners of her lips. “I’m not so sure about that, but the offer still stands regardless.” She looks over her shoulder when the call of her name from Natasha’s room spears through the house, an almost disgruntled look etching itself across her face because of it. “I think it’ll be fun to get to know the woman that raised Nat. Her stories of you haven’t done you justice in the slightest.” 

You’re not able to reply before Natasha’s annoyed voice from the upper-level calls Wanda towards the stairs, clearly impatient with how long her friend was taking. Conversation over then, you think, taking a small step back, towards the direction of the kitchen. The action elicits the smallest of frowns from Wanda, an expression that is there and gone before you could even blink, and you offer her one last wave before heading further into your house, vaguely aware that you didn’t hear the telltale signs of footsteps on your stairs until you rounded the corner. 

The following week passes quickly, and you easily grow used to having Natasha back home-- Wanda slipping in seamlessly throughout it all. It was nice to have some company in the large house, even if Natasha did tend to disappear to reconnect with friends she had left behind once she went off to New York and left Westview behind, but knowing that your daughter was there, and would continue to be, if you needed her soothed you in a way that you hadn’t even known you needed. 

Wanda, despite Natasha’s persistent pestering, seemed to enjoy spending her time lounging around the house, citing that she didn’t know anyone in Westview and didn’t plan on getting chummy with the locals, offering her help whenever she saw you doing something, with an ever present look in her eyes that you still couldn’t place. Although you didn’t exactly mind spending time with the younger woman, her perception of the world was enlightening, along with your shared interests in various topics that had never seem to intrigue anyone else except you-- until now, of course. 

You could feel yourself getting close to her, closer than you’ve allowed yourself to be in a long time. Not since college, you muse, taking a small sip of the chilled wine that Wanda had just brought you. Finally deciding, with Natasha going out for friend’s birthday party, that it’d the perfect time to finally share that glass of wine. You didn’t bother trying to argue with her, not when she looked so earnest in her request. 

Wanda settles next to you, causing you to shift your position, pressing your back into the arm rest, in order to be able to look at her. Emerald eyes were glued onto you, a smile playing on the edges of her lips, before she shifts into a comfortable position of her own. 

“So,” you begin, setting down your wine on the coffee table. “What are you planning on doing once you graduate college? Any idea on where you’d like to end up?” 

“I’ve always loved the idea of being a Producer, being the magic behind the scenes if you will,” Wanda replies, a charming grin catching her lips. “And, yes, I do believe there’s a place that’s caught my eye on where I’d like to end up.” 

You arch a brow. “Really?” 

Wanda simply hums in response, a spark of mischief dancing within her gaze-- a look that you had long since grown used to. It’s clear that she wasn’t going to answer you, not that you truly expected her to, after all what college kid has plans on where they’d like to end up? Ideas, perhaps, but nothing concrete as most go where the wind takes them. 

“Well,” you continue, a soft smile pulling at your lips. “I’m glad that you have everything figured out. I definitely envy you for that?” 

The younger woman’s brow furrows at that, bottom lip disappearing behind pearly white teeth. “Why do you say that?” Emerald eyes flit over the immaculate expanse of your house, one that you had strived hard to maintain through the years. “I think you’re definitely a few steps ahead of me in that department.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” You wave the pseudo-compliment away. “All of what I have isn’t what I originally dreamed of, or wished for, myself, but when certain cards are laid out in front of you.” Trailing off, you run a singular look over the now empty expanse of your ring finger. “You either fold or raise, I wasn’t willing to do the latter. Not when it had so many other consequences attached to it.” 

“What would you wish for then?” 

You shift your focus back to Wanda, confusion etched across your face. “What?” 

She waves a hand. “You said that all of this isn’t what you originally wished for yourself.” Wanda shrugs. “What is then? What would you wish for?” 

“I wish I could find someone that’d treat me in the way he never did, that’d show me what love truly is, and make me forget about all that he’s put me through,” you sigh, taking another sip of your wine. “Of course, with my age, I don’t think that’s really in the cards for me anymore.” 

Wanda scoffs. “I don’t think that’s true. I think there are quite a few people that’d love to be with you.”

Something tells you, maybe some deeper part, a more sensible part, of your brain, that you shouldn’t continue forward with this conversation, that you should take her words as the compliment they are, but another, more needy part of your brain, one that desperately needs to feel some form of validation after so long, doesn’t want to in the slightest. 

Rolling your shoulders, you level Wanda with a look. “Really?” She hums in confirmation. “And who might those people be?”

“Me.” 

If it wasn’t for your back being wedged against the armrest of your catch, you’re fairly certain you would have reared back completely at the calm nonchalance in which she gave you the answer. “Y-You can’t be serious Wanda.” You shake your head, not believing at all what you were hearing. “I’m over a decade older than you.” 

She tilts her head. “So?” A salacious smirk tugs her lips upward. “I think that makes you even hotter.”

“You--” You huff out a breath. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Wanda. I think I’m going to get you some water because you’ve obviously had quite a bit to drink already.” 

But, before you’re able to even push up from the couch, Wanda’s hand grabs your wrist and tugs you closer. Noses almost smashing together, you’re only able to keep yourself steady by grabbing ahold of Wanda’s shoulder with your free hand. “I know exactly what I’m talking about,” she hisses, warm breath ghosting across your face. “I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you on Nat’s phone and it only grew the moment I saw you in person.” Her hand lightly traces down your face, almost reverently. “You’re the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen. No one could ever compare to you in my eyes.”

The sweets words, coupled by the earnest expression etched across her youthful face, causes your willpower to begin to falter. How long has it been since someone looked at you like that? Spoke to you in such a manner? Have you ever had that? The thought makes something twist within your gut. 

“You’re my daughter’s best friend,” you begin, trying to force some semblance of reality into this situation. Trying to make yourself see reason before you did what this was no doubt leading to. “We can’t do this, Wanda.” 

“We can do whatever the hell we want. We’re both adults, I’m not some child.” She tugs you closer, nuzzling her nose against yours. “And what I want to do is kiss you the way you’re supposed to be kissed.” 

A hitch in your breathing gives Wanda all the information she needs, and seals your fate completely, but, even with that go ahead, at the clear sign that you wanted her as much as she clearly wanted you, her lips still descended onto yours at a snail’s pace, giving you the opportunity to pull away. 

You didn’t want to. 

Didn’t want to have this moment be ruined by what could potentially come after. For the first time, in what felt like forever, you were going to put what you desired, what you wanted, before everything else. So, when Wanda’s lips finally did meet your own, and you’re able to faintly taste the cherry chap-stick she seemed so fond of, you give your all to the embrace. Mouth easily opening to her questing tongue, a small moan escaping from deep within your chest at the feel of it entangling with your own, and Wanda seems to press even closer. 

At this point you’re not even sure where you begin and Wanda ends, being pressed so closely together as you are. All you do know is that you never want this to end, never want to go a moment without Wanda’s warm hands trailing down your body, slender fingers digging slightly into your sides to pull you tightly against her, never want to be without the feelings she invokes within your chest-- the butterflies she causes within your stomach. 

With a small snarl, Wanda rips her mouth from yours, making you just barely stifle the noise of disappointment the action causes within you, but the darkened emerald eyes leveled with your own renders you temporarily mute. Wanda’s chest heaving in her effort to get enough air, but she doesn’t once stop running her hands down your body-- seemingly not being able to get enough of touching you. 

“I want to see you,” Wanda growls, hands gripping the material of your flimsy shirt and quickly pulling it over your head. Darkened green eyes taking in each inch of flesh that’s been revealed to her-- on any other circumstance you’d be mortified by the fervor in which she was looking at you, but underneath all that hunger, you could see a sense of awe, a spark of reverence, as if you had just made a wish of hers come true. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” Her head dips, pressing a hot kiss against your neck, tongue soothing the place her teeth had dug in. “I’m going to worship you, baby, I’m going to make everyone else before me feel obsolete.”

Your back arches on its own volition, pressing yourself further into the heated touch of the hand trailing down your abdomen. Burning kisses, that feel like they’d send the raging inferno coursing through your veins absolutely haywire, following the path her fingers had just traced-- sharp canines delicately nipping the flesh of your navel before her tongue sweeps over the flesh to soothe the mark that she had undoubtedly left behind. You’re barely aware of when Wanda had been capable of tugging your sweatpants down your leg, along with your panties, before tossing them in a random direction behind her, but you’re definitely honed in on the moment her tongue, that had just done such sinful things to your chest and stomach, made contact with the apex of your thighs. 

A breathy whine escapes you then, the feeling of Wanda’s tongue lapping at the wetness beginning to escape you, little hungry mewls escaping her throat, as if you were the most appetizing thing she had ever tasted, brings a whole new high to your pleasure-- something you had never felt before. Digging your fingers through her hair, tugging at the long strands to pull her impossibly closer, you’re rewarded by a breathy snarl, Wanda’s lips latching onto your clit and sucking it into her warm mouth-- slender fingers taking up residence where her tongue had just been, entering you hard and fast. Not giving you even a moment to get used to the new feelings before she’s pounding into you, the slender digits curling up just right to brush the spot within you. 

The sounds of your wetness, of the sloshing noises that Wanda’s fingers made every time she pulled out, would have normally made you embarrassed, and it probably would have, if Wanda hadn’t made sure to maintain eye contact with you throughout it all. Emerald eyes, blown almost black with lust, keenly observing every minute expression that flits across your face, tongue lashing across your clit in the precise moment that you needed her to, fingers scissoring inside of you the moment you felt your high coming that much closer. The simple fact that she already seemed to know your body so well, that she could already read your face, in a way that your ex-husband never could, makes the need to have her closer almost like a drug coursing through your veins. 

With the fingers still tangled in her hair, you tug her upwards. Seeming almost hesitant to leave, Wanda follows your wordless command after another thorough swipe of her tongue, her mouth latching onto your own the moment she’s within reach. And, the heady mix of yourself and something that’s inherently Wanda, fogs your brain, but you still have half the mind to wrap your arms around her back, arching more fully into her body-- needing to feel connected to her in some way. Moreso than you already were. 

Ripping her mouth away from your own, when air becomes a necessity, Wanda groans. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” Nimble fingers are quickly accompanied by a third. “Taking my fingers so well. Fuck you’re so tight for me, aren’t you?” 

You nod, a soundless scream escaping. The stretch, the feeling of being so full, and the warmth of Wanda’s breath across your ear, a combination you never knew you needed until now. The cliff, that you hadn’t been able to achieve by yourself, and rarely ever with your ex-husband, seems to be getting closer and closer; you were more than excited to finally take the plunge. 

“That’s right, baby,” Wanda coos, thrusting harder into you. “Just feel my fingers in your perfect cunt. He never fucked you like this, huh? Never treated with the roughness you’ve obviously wanted?”

Something in her voice, in the darkened tone, tells you that this line of questioning wouldn’t be as rhetorical as the first. “N-No--” A sharp whine is pulled from your lips. “Only you. Only you’ve fucked me the way I’ve wanted.”

A sharp grin pulls at Wanda’s lips, her free hand gripping your hip in a possessive hold. “And I’m only ever going to be the one to do it from this point forward.” Her head dips, teeth digging into the sensitive flesh right beneath your pulse point. “Isn’t that right, baby?” 

“Yes!” Your back arches, your incoming orgasm nearly blinding you. “I-I’m so close. I-I can’t--” 

Wanda rolls her hips, shushing you gently. “It’s alright, baby. You’ve done so good for me. Be my good girl and cum for me.”

At her command your body finally releases the final coil that had been prepared to spring forward, as if it had been waiting for her words all along, and a keening cry passes your lips-- Wanda-- as your world is whitened by your pleasure. Only vaguely aware of Wanda’s lips pressing repeatedly against your cheek, her fingers gently guiding you through. 

When you come down from your high, from the toe-curling pleasure that she had given you, and your vision clears enough for you to see Wanda, still hovering over you, with that same look of reverence on her face from before, you couldn’t help the almost shy smile that appears. Something that causes Wanda to dip forward to place a chaste kiss against the smile, so tender from the hungry ones that she had bestowed on you only a moment before. 

“How the fuck could he ever leave someone like you?” It’s said in a low voice, one that you don’t think you were supposed to her, but her clear confusion fills you with warmth, nonetheless. Emerald eyes raise to meet your own gaze, softness suffused within it. “Will you give me that honor, baby? The honor of making you forget.” 

Your earlier words, said in a mournful whisper, come back to you instantly: I wish I could find someone that’d treat me in the way he never did, that’d show me what love truly is, and make me forget about all that he’s put me through. 

“I’m over a decade older than you, Wanda,” you rebuke. “Why the hell would you want to be with someone like me?” 

Her brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I?” She lowers herself, finally pressing her body against yours, allowing you to feel the warmth of her skin, she places another gentle kiss to your lips. “You’re the only woman that’s ever made me feel like this. I don’t give a damn how old you are, I don’t give a damn if Natasha has an issue with it, I’ll talk to her, all I care about is that I get to have you like this again. That I get to love you in the way that you deserve to be.” Emerald eyes sharpen, her grip on your body tightening. “In a way that only I could ever give you.” 

Your eyes flutter shut at her words, something you’ve been wanting to hear for so long. Could you actually take this plunge? Allow yourself to take such a huge risk? Potentially cause a crisis with your daughter and Westview at large? What if it didn’t work out? 

What if it did? The gentle voice of your conscience counters. What if this is your chance at finally being happy? At finally finding the one person you’ve been searching for? Are you really going to let that pass you by? 

You didn’t know how this was going to turn out, how any of this would end up snowballing into years down the line, but as your eyes open and you peer into emerald green, a color that had enchanted you since you first looked upon it, you know your answer instantly-- have known it for longer than the question even being posed. 

“Yes.” 

Wanda’s answering smile, bright with her happiness, is all you see before she descends onto your mouth again, clearly wanting to show you everything that you’d now be experiencing from this point on. 

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 6

The first reason I loved this episode was the fact that this episode began with the girls not only switching patterns (floral vs. lines) but also switching positions.

The second reason I loved this episode was Prik being extra by making noises and motions just to let Pin know that she knew what the lesbians were doing, and it wasn't sleeping.

And the third reason I loved this episode was THE SEX!

Pin and Anin kissing each other wherever and whenever is the kind of romantic storytelling I want to see!

And Pin and Anin having sex wherever and whenever is the kind of historical GL storytelling I want to see.

But as happy as I am that Pink Person Pin wore purple to combine her and Blue Beauty Anin's color,

And that they went on a a little date that paralleled the date that they had before Anin left for England the first time,

There are still color-coded forces (unintentionally) standing between them.

So even though these color-coded girls are in love

And having great sex about it,

Other people will continue to be whole ass problems for them!

(Not Pranot though. He sits at the same table with Prik since they are the only two people who seem to already support queer rights and wrongs!)

Because Anin's color-coded brother is being a big problem!

Anon has been consistently red color-coded, but Anin's oldest brother, Anantawut, who was once blue like her, stayed entirely brown this episode.

Which could be an issue if it means he'll become more traditional, conservative, and predictable.

And although I don't think Pin's mom ever means any harm, she is the epitome of femininity and womanhood.

She can cook. She can clean. She can manage an entire compound of servants all while looking docile, so as much as I love that Pin received the ruby set from Anin's mom for her birthday,

It feels like the jewelry is the first real step into chaining down Pin into a traditional role of womanhood like her mother since this came after the conversation about Pin and Anin needing to get married sooner rather than later.

Normally, red would be passion and heart, which is nice that Anin decided to put red berries on Pin's cake to show her she loved Pin.

But Pin lost her color a bit this episode when she became depressed that Anin was leaving again. Only the tiniest bit of pink lingered at the edge of her dress.

So I think her mother will be even more adamant that Pin get married so she will be too preoccupied with her husband and (new color) to dwell on her best friend being gone, but I think there is an ally in our royal midst!

Anantawut's new wife also seems like the epitome of femininity and womanhood because she can cook, clean, and take care of her prince.

But when I look closer, she is wearing pink AND blue.

And at the lunch where marriage is discussed, she is, once again, wearing pink and blue with a purple skirt (pictured above)

So even though Blue Beauty Anin doesn't have control of her circumstances now.

And neither does Pink Person Pin (who did not deserve to be left without a goodbye!)

I have faith that someone in this family will be able to support the girls when the times come because Prik can't be the only person in this house I respect.

Right?

[kanmom51]

Are you sure? Jeju

Episode 3

I thought I would pack 3 moments together in this one.

3 moments of JK endeared by JM, caring for him and worried for him.

As the three arrived at the first restaurant in Jeju we learn that JM isn't feeling well. Feeling queasy. Very possibly motion sickness, although nothing confirmed.

On the other hand you had a JK who was all jumpy and happy letting us know that he's been to that restaurant in the past.

He and Tae practically run into the restaurant and get settled there. JM staying outside. We don't know for how long, but it's understandable he'd want to stay outside in the fresh air feeling the way he did.

As a whole it felt like JK was lighter in this trip. Happier. I'd go so far as say as if there had been a weight lifted off his shoulders.

It most definitley was not because of the guest, lol. He made sure said guest knew loud and clear that he was a THIRD WHEEL, literally!! In capitol letters, lol.

And yet, JK was in what seemed like a happier state of mind. More at ease than he was in July.

It's clear as day. There's a reason I use the word lighter, because he just is. He's jumpy and excited about practically everything. And his stimming, his stimming is so much more accentuated.

Again, like the weight that was on his shoulders was just lifted.

Obviously his health or more so his bad health on their CT trip, not to mention JM's bad health were a contributing factor to that weight that seemed to linger on his shoulders. He was way more subdued there than he was in Jeju. Being in Korea, no language barriers, and a more familiar environment (Jeju is a place he knows well, has been to multiple times, including with JM alone) could also be a factor here. That said, I do think there were another three factors in play contributing to his 'lighter' state on mind. Contracts signed, album mostly done, joint enlistment in the works.

When JK and Tae were already sat at the table in the restaurant, JK orders the food, makarel included (which he mentioned before in the conversation with JM that JM likes to eat), and then he asks if JM isn't coming.

Just as he does, JM walks in. And JK, that look on his face, as if he hasn't seen JM just minutes ago, just basking in JM's cuteness.

JK knows that JM isn't feeling the best, and he just acknowledges that with that soft momentary touch to JM's thigh. an "I know you're not feeling well, I'm here" kind of touch to the thigh. Very short, but also very obvious.

Third moment is when JM bites his lower lip by accident while jumping to catch that 'boxing bag'(?).

JK's immediate worried reaction when noticing JM's injury.

"Aigo" and "my heart hurts" kind of stood out to me.

I mean... like duh!!!

Like I said.

3 little moments of JK endeared by JM, caring for him and worried for him.

[sports-on-sundays]

and I can change / CL16 / Part 2

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - Charles would do anything to convince you to forgive him. He'd do anything to revive his family.

Warnings: Again, Y/s/n is 'your son's name'. And again, his age is unspecified- you decide what you think. crying (LOTS of crying), mention of drunkenness, mention of sex, mention of cheating, broken relationships, broken family, censored cussing

Requested?: Yeah! Requested by some sweet souls who read part 1! @barcelonaloverf1life @architect-2015 @emz2092 @cilliansgirl @lunamelona @lightdragonrayne @leclercgirl16

Author's Note: You guys asked for it, so I gave it! I hope you enjoy! Same song as inspiration. Also I'm thinking after this part I'll write a part 3, and then after that maybe a little epilogue, to wrap this up. Tell me what you think. Also, this is the link to part 1 / and the link to part 3

"Y/n, people change.

"And I can change, too."

You lay on your bed, engulfed in the darkness of the room surrounding you. The darkness seems to go deeper than just your surroundings- deeper, and into you.

Over and over the scene plays through your mind. Those words that Charles had uttered. The way he had clutched your hand in both of his, as if it were his only lifeline. In that moment, the desperation his eyes had denoted was incredible.

Charles, why? Why couldn't you let go? You're making it all so much more complicated.

But you know what he would say. Why? Why, Y/n? Because this isn't just about myself. Don't you see the brokenness in our son? Don't you see it?

Guilt washes over you, and then rage.

I shouldn't be the one feeling guilt. He should. He's the one who messed up our family. He's the one who's fault it is!

The way he cried, though.

The desperation.

The thing is that he is feeling guilty. Or at least so it seemed.

But does he really deserve a second chance? Do you?

Your phone rings at 12:00 A.M. On the dot. Charles has always been on the dot. Unless he's drunk, that is.

Why is he calling?

Right when I'm thinking about him, too.

Although this really isn't too surprising, when you consider it. For the past week and a half or so, you've stayed up until roughly 2:00 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, thinking, unable to convince yourself into peace and slumber.

And now a call comes.

Charles, why?

It feels terrible as you answer. "Charles. Don't call me."

"Y/n," he says in a calm voice. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you snap, trying to keep it down. Your son is sleeping (hopefully) in the next room.

"For reacting so emotionally. I'm sorry. For years this has weighed on me, but crying and begging won't get us anywhere."

"We're not going anywhere, whether you cry and beg or not." You hang up.

A month after that call where you rejected Charles for what you hoped would be the last time, there's a knock on the door on a Saturday. You walk to it, and freeze when you look through the peephole.

Why is Charles Leclerc here?

Anxiety hits you. The house is a mess, you've got no food to give him, you look like a mess in your pajamas and unbrushed hair-

How can he just show up at your door like this?

It's obnoxious.

You honestly are about to pretend you aren't home, but then Y/s/n suddenly runs in, squealing, "Mama, who is it?! Is it the mailman?"

You sigh at your son's strange fascination for the mailman. You're not completely sure why he enjoys the young, dry, monotone mailman, and for years just assumed because he was generally a nice bloke, and little kids are weird, until you realized with an ounce of dread that the mailman resembles Charles, in a way. After that, you've never encouraged his enthusiasm for the mailman, just in case that was the reason, whether conscious or not.

"No, no," you sigh, unlocking the door. "It's not the mailman, love."

"Who is it, Mama?"

As you swing the door open, you murmur, "Well, love, none other but your father."

"Daddy!" the little boy, still in his Lightning McQueen pajamas, squeals, running to hug his father. You glance away, staring at the floor.

Charles hugs your son, kissing him, and exclaims, "Aw, there's my little buddy! How are you, man?"

"I'm good, Daddy! Are you coming to live here now, Daddy?!"

"Ugh- Not quite..." He picks up your son, and looks to you, immediately saying, "Sorry it's such short notice."

You grit your teeth, murmuring, "You mean no notice?"

"Right," he nods with a quick exhale.

While the presence of your son is a burden for you, preventing you from showing your true feelings, it may be an advantage for Charles, to get across what he needs to get across. Whatever that may be.

Because this is all just a game. Everyone with their own different motives. Y/s/n wants Mama and Daddy to love each other because he wants one place to live. Charles' motives are unknown, but probably are just manipulative and selfish- about making himself feel better. And your motive? You don't want to relive the past, so will avoid Charles at all costs.

Charles' and Y/s/n's motives align more with each other than your's.

You look at your son. Who you love so much. He looks at you with hope. Charles looks at you with... a very similar expression.

These two.

How can you love one and hate the other?

They're both family, as much as you hate to admit it. Because one of them, you wish you could erase.

No. But you don't. Because if you'd never met Charles, Y/s/n would never have been born. And you can't even begin to imagine your life without him.

You hold the door open, and gesture to the couch. "Sit down, Charles. I'm going to get dressed, and then put the kettle on." You say all this through gritted teeth.

How can he just walk in as if he owns the place?

He nods. "Thank you, Y/n." You watch in the doorway to the hall as Charles sits down on the couch with his son on his lap. You watch as he says softly, picking up a toy car from off the rug, "This car is awesome, Y/s/n. Where'd you get it?"

"Mama got it for me! For my birthday!" Y/s/n takes it from his father's hand with much pride, and starts driving it across Charles' chest, up onto his neck, and eventually onto his cheeks. The whole time, Charles laughs, his hand on his son's back to keep him from tipping off his lap.

"That's a super cool car. Does it have a name?"

"Uhhh," Y/s/n frowns. "Zoom! Because he goes zooooom!"

"Oh, it's a he?"

"Of course," Y/s/n says, as if this fact should be obvious. Then he giggles, "Because girls smell."

"They smell?! No way. Girls don't smell."

"Yeah, they do," he crosses his arms, frowning at his father. "You don't know any girls. You only know... Uh, Cah-los."

Charles laughs out loud. "The only person I know is 'Cah-los'?"

"Yep! And Uncle Arthur and Uncle Lorenzo, but that's it!" your son claims in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Their conversation continues, but you finally turn to leave and get yourself fixed up. You quickly shower, brush your teeth and hair, put on moisturizing cream, perfume, and deodorant, and put on a beige hoodie, grey sweatpants, and slides, before going to make tea. The whole time, you mind swirls.

Why is he here? Why is he here on a Saturday? Why is he here, without even asking to come? It's so... obnoxious.

You finish making two cups of tea, finding with awe as you make them that you remember exactly the way Charles likes his tea, and you're doing it automatically.

Because I used to do this so much.

You walk back in with the tea and see the two boys sitting on the rug now. Charles is tickling Y/s/n's tummy, and both of them are laughing- Charles with more of a chuckle and Y/s/n with more of a squealing giggle. When Charles sees you, he slowly stops, saying with a little sigh, "Alright, bud. Mama's back with my tea, and I mean to drink it."

"But Daddyyy!"

"Nope!" he grins, standing up, ruffling his son's messy hair. He then walks to you, and you hand him his tea. He lights up when he tastes the tea and looks at you, muttering softly, "My God, you remembered how I like my tea...?"

"Don't jump to sh*t, Charles," you murmur, soft enough for Y/s/n not to hear.

"Right," he sighs, sitting down again on the couch.

You set your tea down, walking to your son. "Alright, love. I want you to go in your room now, okay? Remember the Lego plane you were building? Why don't you work on that? I want to see it once it's finished, okay? And if you need anything, call, okay? Don't come in here. Just call, and one of us will come."

He looks questioningly. "Why, Mama?"

"Me and your father have important things to talk about. And if you don't listen, there will be consequences."

He blinks, pouting.

"I'll turn on your storybook audio for you. Come on." You bring him to his room and get him set up, until you're sure he's completely distracted with the Legos and the storybook. Only then do you come back to the living room and sit down awkwardly next to Charles.

He's still wearing his red windbreaker from when he was outside, and a black scarf hangs loose around his neck. His hair is a bit messed up, but he looks perfect, like always.

Too perfect.

"Let me take your scarf and jacket. And your shoes."

"Right," he says with a swift nod, handing you his scarf, coat, and sleek black boots. You put them by the door, and sit down, viewing the cozy grey sweater adorning his frame. You have a passing thought, considering how much unnecessary money he might have spent on such a garment.

"So?" you ask in a tense voice. "What is this all about, Charles?"

"There are some things we need to work out. You're right- one of the many things I've done wrong to you is always being a f*cking coward. You're right. I didn't say what was on my mind, and I faked it, and I kept quiet, because I didn't want to upset you. But now I see that the only thing I can do now is speak up, be honest, and be a man. You rightfully left me because I wasn't being a proper man. I wasn't being your proper man. I was being a terrible husband and a terrible father. But now we need to uncover what's true- we both have different views, both of which are likely exaggerated or incorrect in different ways."

"I don't care, Charles," you say quickly, flat out trying to ignore his admittance to wrong. Perhaps because you don't want it to be true. Because if he's sorry, that means you have to forgive him.

"So you're telling me you'd rather believe lies, just because it makes you feel better? What kind of thinking is that?"

You hate to admit that he's right. So you say nothing.

There's silence. But then he says, "So tell me what happened."

"You know what happen-"

"Tell me, Y/n." His voice isn't rude, but definitely firm.

You swallow, shaking your head. You don't want to work this out. You want to forget Charles. But clearly, that's impossible. "You were irresponsible. You'd get drunk, never be home, never help me. I'd be all on my own... You... You'd use me for your own pleasure but never show true, selfless love... Then you came home drunk saying stuff about a pretty woman and sex and getting pregnant... So you cheated... And I divorced you because I couldn't take it any more." You can't believe it, but you're trying not to choke up as you whisper, "Charles, what we had seemed perfect. Until you messed it up." Your mouth tastes like poison.

Charles stares down, his eyes swirling with everything but empty, at the same time. "Y/n," he whispers. "I was terrible. You're right. I was never around because I was immature and scared. I didn't understand. To get away from it, I drank and had fun with friends."

Your lip curls. "You're not the victim."

"And I never said I was! I was scared of being a father. I was scared of messing up. I wasn't ready and I let everything happen too quickly. I was a coward and I left you. Even though you divorced me, I was the one who left you. That's what happened. I was stupid. I was a terrible person. It's all my fault."

"Why would you be any different now? There's no way for you to prove that. Before the marriage you were fine. It was when we married that you went downhill. It was like... you couldn't stand me."

He looks torn apart. "I loved you. I... I... I still do. I knew I wasn't being a good husband or father and to forget about it, I drank."

"And why wouldn't you still do it now?!"

"Because I don't. I feel more guilt now than I did then! I feel more responsibility now than I did then! And that was my greatest fear! Responsibility! But now I don't drink excessively! Now I don't avoid reality! Because I need you... Our son needs us. Together. Don't you need me?"

"Not the you I know."

"You don't know me anymore. I'm not the same person I was." His voice is so uncommonly firm, it slightly shocks you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

He goes on, "That night, I didn't cheat. I was intoxicated. A young woman was trying to seduce me, but I refused because I had you. You, my beautiful wife, both inside and out. I wanted to convey to you that I said no because you were my wife. However, I failed to communicate this properly, and the next morning, I had completely forgotten the conversation. I chose not to tell you because I thought it would be better if you didn't know. I was afraid you would be angrier with me for being in that situation. I was a coward, and I didn't want you to be upset with me. I didn't realize for years that you believed I had cheated. If I had known, I would have assured you that I didn't cheat, just like I am doing now, and that I never would. Because I didn't. Despite all the mistakes I made, cheating on you is something I would never, ever do. I have always loved you, and only you, far too much for that."

Your hands tremble in your lap as you stare at him, listening.

Now you're the one getting emotional.

Charles leans in close to you- too close for comfort- and whispers, "I've changed... Please. I just want a second chance... To right my wrongs and give you and our son the lives you deserve. I need to give my all to you... I need to make it up to you... It's... It's crushing me."

"Why do you need a second chance?" Your voice, for once, isn't aggressive. It's gentle. Softer. Your voice cracks as you say, "You should have done it right the first time."

You see him swallow. "And you know what? I didn't. I f*cked up. I f*cked up everything. I f*cked up your life and I know it. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back in time and fix it and make it all better. I was stupid, Y/n. I was terrible. I hurt the most beautiful woman and her baby in the world. I'm the least." He takes your hand again in both his, but this time it's a gentler grasp.

"But you're not. You're famous. You have so many fans."

"Do you know how many times I've thought I don't deserve all this? If only I could share it all with you."

"Charles," your voice cracks again, and an unexpected, terrible longing fills you. "I want to believe you, but I can't. I'm broken, Charles, because of you. I can't afford to let you break me again..."

A tear rolls down your cheeks, and immediately he reaches up with his thumb, gently wiping your cheek, "No, Y/n, please don't cry... I don't want you to cry because of me any longer... Please..."

"Charles, I can't do this..." more tears fall.

There's hurt and confusion, but mostly longing and guilt in his eyes. "Please... If you'd only trust me, then we could make this right. I could make this right, after all I did wrong."

You can hardly believe yourself as you let your broken, silently crying self fall into Charles. You allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder, and you allow his arms to wrap around you, giving you his warmth. "Charles..."

"Yes...?" There's a painful hope in his voice.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you cry into his shoulder now.

He whispers right in your ear, "Just give me a chance. Let me be there for you... Let me prove to you... Let me..."

You can't give him a yes or a no. Two sides war inside you- the mask and the face. You feel him stroke your hair as you cry, at the same time as remembering stroking his hair when he was drunk and needed comfort.

This is some sort of paradox, isn't it?

"Charles," you murmur, leaning away after you've gained control of yourself. "The answer is 'I don't know' right now, okay... Consider it... better than hating your guts with an adamant 'no.'"

As he gazes into your eyes, he leans closer. Softly, he places a tender kiss on your cheek and whispers, "I'll be ready whenever you are. And I'll never, ever stop waiting for you."

Weeks pass, and Charles can't understand why, after all that happened that day, still you insist on avoiding him like the plague.

Well, the reason is just that- avoidance. You're avoiding Charles because you don't want to face the possible truth. You're avoiding him because you don't want to make big decisions. You don't want to try again. You don't want to...

Well, you don't want to fall in love again.

And on that day, the way he treated you...

It reminded you of the man you married, and not the man you divorced.

And that scares you. Because you'll never forget the man you divorced.

So you're stubborn and resistent, and you're avoiding him.

So you sit, staring at the screen of your cell phone. Rereading the text on it. Over and over.

Charles Leclerc: I'm sorry for such a long text Y/n but you probably won't read it anyway, so what does it matter? I need to talk with you and you're doing exactly what I've done, what I'm apologizing for. For years I avoided this stuff and one of the reasons we split was that i couldn't stand up and address and tell you my problems. I was being a f*cking coward. And I've said sorry more times than I can count. I thought you might be on the road to forgiveness, to giving me a second chance. I know you felt the same way as me when you leaned into me and let me hold you when you cried- there's something more here, and I don't want you to ignore this. Can't we just try this? Please Y/n? I'm finally willing to step up, be a man, work through all this sh*t with you. Talk about it. I'm finally willing to be brave, and as soon as I am, you're doing the same thing you've yelled at me for years for doing- staying silent.

Charles Leclerc: I love you, Y/n, and this is a problem I desperately want to fix, but the truth of the matter is that you're being a f*cking hypocrite.

Me: How does it feel to be in the position you put me in for years?

You feel mean for typing that, and you're not sure how much you mean it. Maybe you meant to be kinder.

But the anger took over and your thumbs did the talking.

Charles leaves that message on read.

You sit in the cold metal chair, surrounded by pudgy, middle-aged parents and their gross kids all around you as a lone young mother sitting by herself. You're only here to see your son, and none of the other aspects of this situation bring you an ounce of joy.

All of a sudden, a shiver runs down your spine as a firm hand gently lands on your shoulder. Your head snaps up, meeting the gaze of Charles Leclerc. A look of disdain crosses your face, causing your heart to ache as you bluntly ask, "Why are you here?"

Charles takes a seat beside you in the vacant chair and casually remarks, "I've come to attend my son's school concert. And you?" A glimmer of amusement dances in his eyes.

Your jaw tightens in pure irritation, and you manage through gritted teeth in a tense, quiet tone, "Why did you choose to sit next to me?"

Charles hesitates, his expression softening, as he makes an effort to hold your gaze. "Well... Because I..." He swallows and says, "I'm not going to give up on you. That's why. So I figured I'd sit down next to you to watch my- our- son's concert. So..." Abruptly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The veins in his hand are visible as he clasps yours tightly.

Your muscles tense, yet for some reason, you don't pull your hand away.

So throughout the whole school concert, Charles sits, gripping your hand, and seems to refuse to let it go.

And the moment the teacher is done on stage after the little production, thanking people for helping and the kids for doing such a great job and other stuff you don't listen to, Charles turns to you and says, "So, we have some minutes to spare."

Your eyebrows scrunch together. "Come again?"

He chuckles, but it doesn't feel called for. "You weren't listening to her? She said the students can be picked up from their classrooms by their parents in fifteen minutes."

Your jaw clenches again. "Charles, why?"

"Because I know you want it," he says incredibly earnestly. The inside of your heart melts as the outside hardens.

"But I don't think I do."

"But I know you do. Now come on." Your ex-husband stand up, pulling you up with him.

"Where are we going?" you ask. "And please let go of my hand. You've been holding it so long, it's starting to get sweaty."

He clicks his tongue and doesn't respond to either of these, then guides you down various hallways until you reach the school's exit. Finally, he sits down with you on a bench outside the school, and releases your hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's just hang out here for the next ten minutes, okay? We should talk," he says awkwardly, facing you.

"I don't get it. Charles, there's nothing you can do to-"

Charles interrupts, holding your face gently, gazing into your eyes. "Please, don't. Don't say that," he pleads, his thumb brushing your cheek. "There's something we can do. We can make this work... Please..."

His desperation, his begging, makes you want to cry. "Please just let it go... Let me go..."

"No, I don't want you to be trapped... Don't you see you'll be more free with me? You won't have to work as hard.. I'll take care of you and our son... I'll take half the work in the house you have to deal with... I'll... We'll... I just want you to believe that we'll be happier... I'm not saying we need to jump to anything today. I'm just saying, let's be kind to each other... Let's go out to eat sometimes, or go to our son's events together. Let's act just a little bit more like a family, even if we aren't yet. I just want to- I need to- I- I- I..." He trails off. His hands fall off your cheeks, and his shoulders slack. His head goes down.

It's like just the hard look in your eyes alone crushed him.

Like that alone is the huge weight he's bearing.

"F*** me, Y/n... F*** me," he whispers, his hands in his lap trembling. "I don't deserve you. I hurt you. Doesn't matter how much I changed. I still have to live through the consequences of my actions, don't I?" He seems to be talking more to himself, but you have no idea at this point. "Just f*** me." He exhales shakily, before suddenly standing up. He stares you right in your eyes, and your heart breaks when you see the hurt, the destroyed desperation. "It's fine, Y/n." He's trying to keep a level face. But his voice cracks. "I'll leave you alone. I'll let you go. I can see all this is just hurting you more. I never meant to hurt you more. I never meant to bring up the past to hurt you. I wanted to help you... I wanted to help you heal..." He drags a hand over his face. "But clearly I f***ing didn't. Clearly I messed it up again. I f***ing messed up again." He swallows. His eyes glimmer with wetness as he practically whispers, "The last thing I want is to hurt you. So I'll drop it. I'm just being selfish again, aren't I? I think this would be better, but you don't. And that's hurting you. And I never wanted to..." He swallows, his nose crunching up. Suddenly he yells, "I never wanted to hurt you ever again, because I love you, for f***'s sake! I love you, but I did hurt you, because, in the end, no matter what, I'm going to f*** it up anyway! So bye, Y/n!" Suddenly he turns on his feet. Like he doesn't want you to see him cry again. But you can hear the tears in his voice when the last thing he calls back is, "It will go back to normal, and we can pretend none of this ever happened! Pretend I'm a stranger! It's the best for you, anyway, apparently, and all I wanted was the best for you!"

You stare in shock as you watch him get in his car and drive away. You remain seated, gaze straight ahead. Tears well up in your eyes, and your body quivers, yet you manage to compose yourself, rise on unsteady legs, and compel yourself to return to the school to pick up your son.

But that just wasn't right.

I should have stopped him. I should have called him back. I should've.

How far can revenge go before it's gone too far?

For days, the guilt, the hurt, the rue- they weigh on you. Every moment of your days, it consumes your thoughts. Regret and confusion and anger fill you in every step, engulfing your every move. And if you thought you weren't getting any sleep before, now it's even worse.

You long to fix it, but you are unsure of how. Despite everything... You can't see how Charles isn't being honest. You want to have faith in him. A small part of you may even want to love him, just a little bit.

You're also fearful. Fearful of reaching out to him, because you don't know what you'd do. You have no idea.

But now you're dropping your son off at Charles's house. You swallow, and suddenly, on a whim, when you see Charles walking outside, waiting for Y/s/n, you get out of the car, too.

"Mama?" your son asks with a confused expression, still maintaining a little smile on his face.

You smile back down at him and say, "I'm walking you up to your daddy's house today, is all."

He shrug and nods, apparently accepting this.

He's such a good kid.

As you approach Charles, your smile twitches while you study him, but you say softly, "Hey, um... I... We..." Your tone sounds weak.

"Yes?" Charles asks, looking up. He looks perfect. As always.

Your eyes lock.

Please, Charles. I don't know how to say this. Please just understand.

His eyes remain blank. You let out a sigh.

And suddenly, you hug him.

Charles seems taken aback for only a moment, before he immediately hugs you back and says softly, "Hey... Want to come inside with me and Y/s/n?"

You nod. "Yes... Yes, please."

So Charles leads the two of you up to his flat. You sit down together on the couch, once again.

Last time you did this was the moment Charles cried out to you.

"Y/n, people change."

You swallow at the memory.

Is this another paradox? This time, will I be the one crying out to him?

Y/s/n is about to hop on the couch between you, but suddenly Charles scoops him up and says, "Hey, hey! I didn't get my hug from you yet, did I?!"

Your son giggles, getting comfortable on his father's lap, before giving him a big hug. "I scored a goal, Daddy..."

"You scored a goal?!" he grins. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! Mama cheered me on! I scored a goal when I played football!"

Charles looks so bright. Happy with his son. So proud. He doesn't get to see him as often as you do. "No way. You've got to be joking. Was it the winning goal?"

"Yep!" your son says proudly.

You find yourself smiling.

"Oh yeah, what was the score?"

Your son shrugs. "Dunno! But we won!"

You smile and mutter softly, "I think it was 4-1." Y/s/n plays in the little league team affiliated with his school.

"Yeah, but my goal made it 2-1, so I won it," he brags to his father.

Charles grins. "Oh, I'm sure it did. You know, I don't know where you got that talent for football from. Do you think Mama is good at football?"

Your son just shrugs with a grin, enjoying the affirmation from his father. "Dunno! But Mama is good at cuddling and playing with me."

Charles laughs. "Yeah, your mama takes good care of you." He glances at you with sparkling eyes, before looking back down at his son.

The two continue babbling on about sports and football and what not, until Charles finally ruffles his son's hair and says, "Well, buddy, I reckon it's time for me and Mama to have some alone time."

Y/s/n frowns. "Aw, why?"

"Because I want to talk with Mama about things that you won't care about. Boring grown-up stuff. Doesn't sound very fun, does it?"

Y/s/n shrugs, still looking uncertain.

"Hey, don't look so down. How about this? I'll go put on Cars for you. How's that sound?"

Your son grins at this, immediately jumping up, his demeanor changing abruptly. "Yeah, yeah!" he squeals, and you watch as Charles leaves with him to go set him up with that in another room.

But soon Charles is back. He gently shuts the door behind him as he enters the room, and immediately sits down next to you, facing you once more. "Hey, Y/n..." he says in a tentative but gentle tone.

You swallow. "Hey, Charles..." You feel yourself getting nervous again. "You're so... You're so good with Y/s/n."

He smiles. "You are, too."

There's no, And I'm sure we'd be even better with him together.

Charles meant it when he said he'd give up on it.

But you move closer to him. You take his hands. "This is a lot for me, Charles. I'm scared. I'm having issues with trust."

He nods slowly. "I know... I know..."

You swallow, and hug him again.

He holds you, hugging you back. He kisses your cheek. He whispers, "I understand if you're afraid. I understand if you're scared, or if you're having issues with trust. I'm so deeply sorry I've broken you like that."

Y/n, people change. And I can change.

The words come crashing into your mind like a ton of bricks, emerging from the depths of your memory.

"Charles-" you break in, your voice cracking. "Those words have haunted me."

"What words...?" he mutters softly.

You swallow. Breathe slowly. And you whisper, "You said to me 'Y/n, people change. And I can change.'"

"I have changed," he whispers.

"But," your voice cracks. "You said a lot of other s***, too. I remember, during our honeymoon..." A tear rolls down your face as Charles continues to hold you. "You said I'm yours and you're mine. You said we'd be forever. You said you'd do anything for me. You said we'd have three kids together, and you'd never stop loving me, and we would be a happy family. You said we'd grow old together, Charles. That's what you said. But all those promises- they were broken... They were broken."

"You didn't want them to be," he whispers calmly. "But don't you realize? Perhaps those promises were not broken, but rather, they have just not yet been fulfilled."

You look up at him, blinking. More tears roll down your cheeks. Charles gently wipes them away.

"I want to be able to fix what I did wrong. I want to be able to fulfill those promises I made to you. That's what I want, Y/n."

"Charles..." you breathe.

He looks so perfect.

"Yes?" he asks gently.

Your lip quivers, and you lean into his shoulder, and you sob.

And he lets you.

For however long, he holds you there, rubbing your back, letting you weep. Finally, you get a hold of yourself, and slowly pull away. You wipe your wet eyes with the backs of your hands, before sighing. "Charles, if we were to do this... If I were to give in..." You sniff. Your voice cracks again as you utter, "Please, don't hurt me again. I can't survive it again. I can't let you put me through that again..."

He pulls you to him again and whispers in your ear, "I won't. I won't. I won't let you down this time. Please don't be afraid of me... I want to love you... Let me love you... If you'll just let me, we can fix this... We have have a relationship in which we communicate more. Oh, Y/n..." he sighs. "Don't you realize how much I care? I- I would give my life for you."

You blink, staring at him.

Everything looks so promising. That's why you're scared.

It almost looks too promising.

"You say you would give your life for me. But would you really? Maybe you would you give your life for me if it meant losing it. But would you give your life to me while you're still alive? Would you clean the dishes? Would you help me when I'm sick? Would you grab an extra ingredient from the store if I needed it? Would you drive Y/s/n to school when you could? Would you really? You're gone half the year, as it is."

His jaw clenches, then un-clenches. "I would do anything and everything I could do for you. I want to share my life for you. Until death. And I'm one hundred percent sure on that. I've had years of thinking about this." There's hope in his lovely eyes.

So much hope.

You sigh, staring down at your lap.

"Y/n. I'm sorry. Please. Not only do I need your forgiveness. But your son does, too." He hesitates. "And I hope you know no matter what happens, the guilt of what I've done to you will weigh on me my whole life. That's why I want to fix it."

You gently slip your hand in his and whisper, "Please don't hurt me."

He wraps his fingers around your hand, holding it. "I won't."

You nod slowly, another tear rolls down your cheek, and it feels like all the molecules in your body are being ripped apart as you barely whisper, "Okay, Charles. We can try this again."

[cevansbrat0007]

Sweet Morning Light

Summary: Watching you sleep has Ari hungry for more. Which means it's time for breakfast. And it looks like you're on the menu... Inspired by the song Morning Light, by Justin Timberlake ft. Alicia Keys.

Warnings: Ari Being A Menace, Smut, Oral Sex (fem rec), Spanking (mentioned & implied), Bondage (mentioned), Punishments (mentioned), Light D/s themes, Brief Discussions of Body Image, Implied Disordered Eating, Pet Names, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Playing with Food, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for being amazing and helping me brainstorm. I'd also like to dedicate this story to my other darling friend, @writer84. This story will more than likely take place in my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Warm rays of early morning sunlight seep in through the cracks of the blinds, signaling the arrival of a new day. You barely stir, content to remain sleeping. But the same can’t be said for the man lying in bed next to you. 

In fact, Ari’s been awake for hours. But for some reason, he just can’t seem to get himself to move. And he has the sneaking suspicion that it’s all your fault. 

Because it doesn’t make any sense for him to still be in bed right now. Laying here with you. Like this. He’s got leads to chase. A man to catch. Followed by a few loose ends to tie up so that he could busy himself with packing his things and then move on to the next town. 

See, Ari Levinson had never been the type of man to stay in one place for too long. He’d lived the life of a nomad for a long time – ever since he was a child. Perhaps there had been a time when he’d longed for the kind of stability that could come from having a house complete with a white-picket-fence and two functioning parents.

But that dream had died long ago, right around the same time as his childhood. 

Now the thought of ever planting down roots somewhere always seemed to make him feel antsy as hell. Instead he preferred to move from place to place. He relished the freedom that came with the lifestyle he’d chosen for himself.

So why fuck the did the thought of packing up and leaving everything in this podunk town in his rearview mirror have his stomach twisted in knots?  

Because it would mean leaving you behind. His sweet Bird. 

Growling low in his throat, he reaches out to brush a stray curl away from your face. And although he’s careful not to wake you, his heart does stutter a beat when you lean into his touch. 

Somehow he’d managed to defy the odds and convince you that he was worthy of being allowed into your bed – a fact that he didn’t take lightly. However, the one thing he hadn’t counted on being bombarded with this strange sense of desire.

He wanted to keep you.

Ari Levinson didn’t do relationships. Granted, he’d been roped into trying once or twice. And even though he was plenty interested each time, they’d proven much too involved for his taste. Too emotional. Too messy.    

He knew he had no business entertaining the feelings you were responsible for stirring within him. If anything, it was simply proof that you were dangerous. And that if he was smart – which he was, in more ways than most people usually gave him credit for – he’d wake you up to help you collect your things and see you out the front door.  

Once you were gone, he’d work on breaking this damn spell you’d cast. Starting with a cold shower, followed by –

Ari’s increasingly masochistic thoughts are interrupted by the sweet sound of your breathy little sigh as you go to shift, turning over in bed next to him. Of their own volition, his eyes stray to your breasts, his mouth watering at the sight of your pouting nipples peeking out from beneath his sheets.

Quite honestly, he didn’t think it was fair of you to taunt him like this. Fucking temptress. Putting those ripe, sweet berries on display in such a way – practically begging him to taste. 

Careful not to jostle you too much, Ari gently eases himself out of bed. It takes him a second to find his boxers – the same pair he’d hastily stripped off last night – before he quietly ambles out of the room in the direction of his kitchen. 

He needed a few minutes to collect himself, preferably away from you and all of those delectable curves of yours. Rounding the corner, he reaches down to the front of his boxers to adjust his half-hard cock. 

Last night had been nothing short of amazing. The way you’d given yourself to him…your submission to his gentle dominance had been the most magnificent gift. He cherished every second of your surrender. His now painfully hard cock twitches as he recalls the way you’d come undone in his arms, how you’d screamed his name, urging him to take what was so freely given. 

It was as if you’d driven Ari to the brink of madness. He’d wanted nothing more than to take you. Possess you. Tame you. Keep you. And then the way you’d begged him to keep going. Demanded it even. He’d had no choice but to obey.

“Harder. Faster. Deeper. Baby, please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” 

You’d been so good for him, taking everything he’d had to offer. His gorgeous, greedy girl. The image of you shamelessly riding his cock like you owned it, your luscious tits bouncing with every measured stroke, was permanently seared into his brain. Not that he was complaining any.

Even now, the memories alone had him ready to cum at the slightest touch. One wrong move and he’d go off like a geyser. But apparently, the wheels in his one-track mind weren’t done turning just yet. 

Your tight little pussy had gripped him like a fucking vice. Eagerly milking him for all he was worth. Almost as if your body had been made for him. 

Ari groans aloud, tipping his head back as he yanks open the door to the freezer. While it wasn’t necessarily a cold shower he figured it was better than nothing. As he wills the chilled air towards his now aching dick, he finds himself assaulted by more images from the night before.

Ari knew he was a goner from the moment you’d allowed him between those deliciously thick thighs. You’d been shy in the beginning, unwilling to part your knees and reveal a glimpse of your glistening little cunt. 

“Are you wet for me, Duchess? Is that what you don’t want me to see?” He’d purred, his big hands coming to rest on either side of your bent legs. “I think it’s awfully mean of you to keep all that sweet honey to yourself.”

The way you’d shivered at his words. Almost as if you finally realized that you were well and truly trapped. Left alone to fend for yourself as you faced down a predator – a real-live Beast whose every intention was to devour you.

And make you fucking love it.

“I don’t think…” You began, wanting to break the news gently that you weren’t the type of girl who could cum from oral sex. “Y–you don’t have to, Ari. In fact, I’d much rather touch you.”

You sensed that you fucked up when Ari snarled in response, the harsh sound rumbling deep in his chest, sending a fresh wave of heat straight to your already drenched core.

“Didn’t ask you that, baby.” In the blink of an eye he’d shifted your positions so that he could loom over you, so close that your noses were practically touching. “Could’ve sworn I made it clear who was gonna be in charge from the moment we walked through my front door. And it wasn’t you.”

“But I–” You stammered, suddenly remembering just what you had agreed to when he’d all but cornered you at your shop earlier that day. Well, to be fair, he hadn’t exactly asked you anything. He’d told you how it was gonna go down. Because you apparently were in need of a keeper.

And lucky for you, he was just the man for the job.  

“Sweetheart,” Ari crooned, dropping his voice another octave. “You agreed to let me run the show. You gave me your consent. And I know that means something to you, doesn’t it?”

Unable to speak, you’d simply nodded. 

“Then lie the fuck back and spread those pretty thighs like a good girl. Because your man is fucking hungry.” 

“But…you didn’t say please.” You’d murmured, your own sass taking you by surprise.

“Please, Bird.” He’d grunted, his tone making it known that he didn’t take too kindly to how were testing his patience. “Before I decide I’m better off taking you over my knee.”

That has you complying faster than you’d thought possible. Reading about the heroine receiving a sound spanking in a romance novel was one thing. But receiving one at the hands of a man like Ari Levinson was something altogether different. Which meant you needed to tread lightly.

Otherwise you just might drown. 

“There we go.” He’d hummed the moment you finally gave-in. “Can’t believe you thought about keeping my pussy from me. Would’ve been a damn shame.” Ari’s hands then moved to the backs of your thighs, splaying them even farther apart until they were resting comfortably on his broad shoulders. “Now tell me. Doesn’t it feel good to obey your man? How does it feel to be my good girl?”

Unable to help yourself, you’d all but preened at his praise. Momentarily forgetting your earlier worries. You knew for a certainty that you’d never been this turned on in your life.  

“Now, ask me to eat this sweet pussy. And no sass unless you wanna have a hard time sitting down.”

“Fuck!” Ari hisses, slamming the freezer door so hard it rocks the entire fridge. Still cursing under his breath, he goes about gathering all the things to make his favorite breakfast. Something he only made when he found himself in need of a little comfort. 

Cinnamon French Toast with caramelized apples and fresh strawberries, along with a side of  hickory smoked bacon. He’d never made it for anyone except for a buddy of his he’d lost on a job a few years back.

And it had certainly never crossed his mind to whip it up for any of the other women he’d allowed in his bed. Ari would never even consider sharing something so precious with some random, nameless fuck.          

Snagging a cast iron skillet from a nearby cabinet, he carefully lays down multiple strips of meat, positioning them just so. He’d purchased it the other day from a local butchery in town run by good ol’ Mr. Irving. By all appearances, he  seemed to be one of the only people in the little community that had any damn sense.

Well, him and the woman who was currently all tangled in his sheets. On her side of the bed. Blissfully sleeping the day away like she belonged there.

Fine by him.

Ari scrubs a hand over his heart, confused by the sudden ache in his chest. You had him worked up something fierce, and he meant to do something about it. He just didn’t know what that might be at the moment.

So, he was going to cook you some breakfast. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d eat it all too. None of that grazing shit you seemed to do whenever he was around. As long as you were in his life and in his bed he was going to take care of you.

Because you needed a keeper. And he’d be damned before he let another man fill his fucking position. 

Ari keeps moving, trying to busy himself with the task at hand as he tries to piece together the puzzle of what made you so goddamned special. If he was being honest, he was beginning to feel like a victim of his own making. 

He should be pouring you some coffee into a to-go cup and pushing you out the door. But oh no. Unfortunately for him, he keeps finding himself unable to do the right thing. 

So, instead he was currently dipping bread into a mix of eggs, cinnamon, vanilla, and brown sugar. Christ, he’d nearly forgotten to add the freaking nutmeg! Then everything would’ve been ruined, and it would’ve been your fault, little Bird. 

There was a time when Ari was convinced that his Mama’s French Toast was the sweetest, most exquisite thing he’d ever put in his mouth. That is, until he’d gotten a taste of you. At that moment, he found himself quietly wishing she was still alive so that he could talk with her about all of this.

Talk to her about you and what he ought to do with his stubborn little Bird. 

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Ari quickly flips the toast in the skillet before checking on the bacon. He had the apples simmering in another pan, but he could tell it was about time to add the heavy whipping cream to the dish. He hadn’t bothered peeling them in hopes of preserving the bit of sweetness found in the skin.  

With practiced ease he works diligently to make sure everything comes out perfect. Because you deserved the very best, and he aimed to give it to you.

One bite at a time. 

As he continues cooking he allows his thoughts to wander free of judgment. He wonders what it would be like to do this every weekend, maybe on a Sunday. Wake you up with breakfast in bed, then spend a few hours lazily taking you apart, loving all over every delectable inch of you. 

He could see himself getting lost in your body, tracing the patterns of the hidden tattoos that adorned your skin. That unexpected treat had thrown Ari for a bit of a loop. Because it meant you had secrets.

If he stuck around a while longer what else would he possibly uncover? Shit. There he went again with one of those crazy ideas.

Little witch. You had absolutely no business beguiling him like this. And as soon as he could think straight the two of you would be having words, damn it.

Ari flips the last piece of toast, making special note of the decadent crust that had formed along the surface. Quite frankly, this might very well be the best batch he’d ever made.

His Ma would be so proud. And he reckoned that she’d be even prouder because of the woman he’d chosen to share it with. 

One of his big hands goes to his chest again, rubbing gently. That damned ache was back. All because he’d brought a girl home that had him thinking about his Mama. Swear to Christ this wasn’t fair. 

An increasingly grumpy Ari takes his time plating the food. After taking a moment to think, he decides that piling everything on one plate is the best option. You two were going to share this meal whether you liked it or not.

If he didn’t have a choice in the matter then neither did you. Those were the rules, take ‘em or leave ‘em. But also, please don’t leave. Not yet. Fuck, he was screwed! 

With a scowl firmly set in place, he sets the plate on the dining room table. And then he retrieves the bowl of freshly cut strawberries from their place in the fridge, along with some orange juice. And for himself, a steaming hot cup of tea. Once everything is settled the way he likes, he turns on his heel and makes his way back to his bedroom.   

Back to you – his Bird. And if you knew what was good for you, then you better not be thinking about flying the coop. Not after everything you’ve put him through for the last several hours. Ari Levinson wasn’t good with all of this emotional turmoil bullshit.  

When he finds you once again, he’s relieved to see that you’re still sleeping. Although you’ve since rolled onto your stomach, gifting him with an amazing view of your tempting ass.

If you were his, he had no doubt that your sweet ass would be wearing his handprint almost every day. His woman was a terror. And if left alone to your own devices then you were just bound to run amok. 

Ari is in the middle of debating the best way to wake you when you start to stir all on your own. Panicking for reasons he’s not fully ready to acknowledge, he hurriedly kicks your clothes from last night into his closet. And then he hastily shuts the door. He almost trips when the strap of your bra gets tangled around his foot, although he manages to recover nicely.

Just in time for you to sit up and take notice of your surroundings. 

“Good morning.” You whisper, scrubbing a hand over your eyes. You hadn’t meant to sleep this long. Why the fuck hadn’t any of your alarms gone off? Still groggy, you frantically begin searching for your phone. 

You knew you had it when you’d shown up here last night to put this overgrown beast of a man in his place. So where the fuck could it have gone?

“I have your phone, baby.” Ari chuckles, pointing in the direction of the adjoining bathroom. “It’s charging and everything.”

“But what happened to all my alarms?” You mutter, running a hand through your messy curls. You were afraid to look in a mirror right now, even though you were pretty positive that you needed one stat. 

“I turned ‘em off.” All he offers is a less than apologetic shrug for his trouble. “All seven of them. Seems a little excessive by the way.”

“I’m a heavy sleeper.” 

Fuck, you really needed to get out of here. You hadn’t meant to sleep this late. Granted, no one was expecting you at the shop today. But still, you had a schedule to keep. 

“I noticed. Which is why I wanted you to get some rest, beautiful girl.” 

So that I could look at you in the morning light. Stroke my fingers through your hair. Drink in the sight of each sweet, sleepy smile as you lay next to me without worrying about what today might bring.

He wants to say all of those things to you and more. But his mouth doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. 

“But the shop –”

“Is just fine. The sheriff would’ve called me otherwise.” Ari assures you before taking a seat next to you on the edge of the bed. “I think this town can survive without you for one day, sweetheart.”

“People will talk.” You tell him, a hint of concern etched in your voice. This man deserved to know that he was opening himself up to some serious gossip – and it had the potential to make things harder.

As if waking up naked in his bed hadn’t already complicated things enough. You were in no mood to be painted as the town whore. At any rate, you much preferred the title of the town bitch. Even though it wasn't the least bit true, you felt it suited you much better. 

“Well, as long as they talk about minding their own damn business then why the fuck should we care?” His brilliant blue eyes are sparkling with mischief. “No one likes a busybody, least of all me.” 

“Me either.” You agree, giving him a shy smile. “But I really should get going. Have you seen my–? Do you remember where I left my clothes?” You scan the room, confused over the fact that they’re not on his bedroom floor where you expected them to be.

“Eh…I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.” Ari mutters, refusing to meet your gaze for some unknown reason. “How about I help you search for ‘em after breakfast, hm?” With that, he swoops you up into his arms complete with the sheets, before lumbering off towards the kitchen.

“Ari!” You squeal in shocked surprise. “You can’t just – argh! Put me down right this minute or else I’ll…I’ll…” You trail off as you try and fail to drum up an adequate threat. “Damn it!”

“You won’t do shit, Duchess. You’re still in my house. Which means the rules from last night still apply.” Your arrogant companion takes a seat at the table. And then he lightly bounces you on his lap, forcing you to wiggle your bottom against his muscled thighs as you work to get comfy.

It was almost impossible to miss the hard ridge of his erection pressing against your ass through the thin material of the bed linens. It was the same thick cock that had been inside you last night, making you see stars as Ari played your body like his favorite fucking instrument.  

“They most certainly do not.” Comes your defiant huff even as you feel your cheeks heat. “At least let me have my clothes, Ari. In case you’ve forgotten I’m naked. And you’re clearly not. Doesn’t seem very fair.” You snuggle into the warmth of his solid chest, innocently batting your lashes up at him. 

“Pretty sure last time I checked you didn’t need clothes to eat.” Grinning, he holds a strawberry to your lips, willing you to take a bite. Which you do, of course – albeit rather begrudgingly.     

“You’re a beast.” You pout when you’re finished chewing, hating the way your stomach growls at the sight of all the delicious breakfast he’s set out. One he’d made himself. For you.

“And proud of it.” 

Ari offers you another bite of fruit, which you accept. But you surprise him this time by gently nipping at his fingers. Feeling brave, you pick up a sticky piece of apple and feed it between those sinful lips of his. 

Smiling, he eagerly licks your fingers clean before picking up a knife and fork to cut you a piece of french toast. You let out a soft, strangled moan as the flavors burst on your tongue. It was seriously amazing – crispy on the outside, light and fluffy on the inside. 

“You like it, little Bird?” Ari hums as he lazily feeds you a piece of bacon next. 

If he was being honest, he could spend every day like this. Just lounging around the house, taking turns feeding each other breakfast. Shutting out the rest of the world until the only thing that mattered was where you began and he ended. 

Oh my God, Ari!” You chirp before stealing the fork from his grasp to feed him a piece of toast. “This is like restaurant quality. Where did you learn how to make this?” 

More often than not, you found yourself feeling genuinely curious about this gorgeous man. Even when your mind told you it probably wasn’t a good idea. Which honestly sucked. 

Especially since your brain was usually right.

“Here and there.” Comes his smooth retort. “When, uh – when you’ve been around like I have, you tend to learn a thing or two. Have another bite, baby.”

You shake your head “no” when he tries to get you to take another bite of french toast. It was yummy, sure. But you’d probably be better off just sticking to the fruit from this point on. Which is what you try to tell Ari, only for you to be shot down in a spectacular fashion. 

“Honestly, Bird, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t care for my woman and all these delectable curves she’s seen fit to bless me with?” He scoffs, biting into a particularly juicy strawberry. His eyes lock with yours as he nudges the edge of the sheet down, exposing your bare breasts to his hungry gaze. 

Using the still dripping berry, he traces it along the curve of your nipple – intimately painting your flesh with its juices. And then he leans down to suck the waiting temptation into his mouth. He hums in satisfiction when you arch your back, allowing him better access as he continues to suckle. 

Your man didn’t want to miss a single drop of sweetness.

When he finally pulls away you can scarcely breathe. But it’s what comes next that has the empty walls of your pussy fluttering with need.

“Best damn strawberry I’ve ever eaten.” Ari’s voice deepens with lust as he takes in the sight of your labored breathing, your pupils dilating with desire. “In fact it was so good, I think I’m gonna have another.” If the wolfish grin he’s sporting is any indication, he’s not expecting you to disagree. 

Not that you were planning to anyway. You were cautious, yes. But you weren't dead.

“Okay.” You rasp, whimpering softly when Ari sucks on your bottom lip. Playfully tugging it into his hungry mouth before releasing you with a soft pop. 

This time he drags the weeping fruit along the column of your throat, past the valley between your breasts, only to stop when he encounters the sheet once more. 

“Uh oh. Seems like we’ve run into a little problem. Haven’t we Bird?” He teases, setting down the berry to feed you a stray piece of bacon. Unsure of where Ari’s going with this, you cautiously accept, chewing thoughtfully until he’s ready to continue. “But I suppose the real question is, what exactly are you willing to do about it?”

Beautiful chaos dances behind his wild blue eyes as he stares back at you in challenge. Goosebumps raise up on your skin as the room comes alive with electricity.  

You briefly hesitate before responding. “What do you mean, Ari?” Selfishly, part of you wished he would just make the decision for you. It wouldn’t take much. All you had to do was grab his hand and place it on your throbbing little pussy.

“It means, are you going to be a good girl and lose the sheet so I can finish my meal? Or…” Ari trails off, helping himself to another bite of toast. Realizing that you were probably better off picking your battles with this man, you go ahead and allow him to feed you as well.

“Or…or what?” 

“Or…am I going to have to tie you to my bed while I cook up every last bit of food I have stashed in my kitchen until I manage to make something you’ll actually eat that isn’t a goddamned salad?” 

Stunned into silence you sit there. Perhaps he was joking. Although, the imperious quirk of his brow lets you know that he isn’t. And while he was kind enough to give you a choice, it also didn’t mean he was gonna grant you all the time in the world to make it either.

“I’m waiting, baby.” Ari growls, his tongue tracing its way along the shell of your ear. “What’s it gonna be, hm? Breakfast?” One big hand goes to rest on your thigh, giving it an enticing squeeze. “Or a little Bondage?”

“Uhh…” It was too damn early for you to be making these kinds of decisions!

“The clock is ticking, pretty girl.” His mocking words are accompanied by a sharp graze of teeth along your jawline. “Tick tock. Tick tock.”

Fine. If he wanted to play games then you could too.

Squaring your shoulders, you rise from his lap before giving him your back. And then you let the sheets fall, pooling in a messy heap on the floor at your feet. But you don’t care about that. You’re too busy enjoying Ari’s sudden intake of breath as he gets a good look at your body in the morning light.

Smug bastard. You know he probably expected you to pick option two. And while he probably wouldn’t have tied you up, he definitely would’ve used it as an excuse to lure you back into his bed again. 

And you would have fallen for it. Because you were weak when it came to this man. You had virtually no defenses when it came to handling Mr. Ari “Beast” Levinson. 

“There’s a brave girl.” Ari croons when you finally deign to glance at him over your shoulder. “I’ve gotta tell you, I can’t wait to learn the meaning behind each and every single one of those stunning tattoos.”

A little presumptuous, don’t you think?

You get ready to fire off a retort, only for him to cut you off at the quick. “Please, sweetheart. Let’s save that sass until after breakfast, alright? Can’t have you fucking up my appetite. Now come here.” Ari orders, crooking an expectant finger at you.

Biting your lip, you bridge the few feet of distance between you as you battle back the urge to blush. Or even worse, turn tail and run away to hide in the bedroom. You allow him to look his fill, feeling emboldened by his unabashed perusal of your nude form.

A little voice in your head tells you that this man likes what he sees, stretch marks and all. And for once, you decide to let it ride.

“Fucking amazing decision if there ever was one." He mutters after a moment before rising so that he can pick you up and deposit you on the kitchen table. Thankfully it’s a gentle landing, but only because he thought far enough ahead to move the dishes first. 

"This body was made to be worshiped.”

“But–but I thought…oh!”      

“You thought wrong.” He grunts, pushing your thighs apart as his lidded eyes focus on your drenched core. And while you’re forced backwards onto your elbows, you don’t bother trying to close your legs. “So, why don’t you hush and let me finish my breakfast?” His wicked pink tongue darts out to wet his lips.

Ari then helps himself to another strawberry, this time swirling the now-sticky fruit around your sensitive clit. He takes his time, making sure it’s thoroughly coated in your juices, before popping it into his mouth.

“Mm.” Comes another one of his pleasure-fueled groans. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to eat these the same way again. You’ve ruined me, Bird.” 

“I’m not food, Ari!” You whine, your legs beginning to shake even as your man yanks you closer to the surface’s edge. The sound of his mocking laugh making it known that he disagrees wholeheartedly.

“Tell you what, I’ll take you out somewhere for lunch. I promise we’ll find something you like.” Ari winks at you then, before settling back down into his chair – leaving you naked and on full display, right there on his surprisingly sturdy kitchen table. “Assuming we ever figure out what happened to your clothes.”

“Damn it, Beast!”

Ari then buries his face between your thighs, inhaling deeply. You were hands down the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. And he tells you as much, right before his wide, flat tongue expertly parts your messy folds.

If he had his way, he’d eat you all the time. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

“Settle down, woman. As your man, it’s my job to make sure you work up a proper appetite. You can thank me later. Now, be a doll and pass me that syrup.”

Little did you know, he only accepted payment in the form of orgasms. Note to self, always be sure to read the fine print before getting in bed with a Beast.

END  

[coca-lastic]

Takami Keigo: 5 Red flags vs 5 Green flags

Characters: Takami Keigo (Hawks).

Mi first lenguage is not English btw

Part 2 with Bakugo?

First of all, a relationship with Keigo can go very well or very badly. His life requires a very specific type of person, although he is not one to judge people and prefers to be optimistic when it comes to anything, it must be admitted that a person who is a little more "egoistic" could not stand the schedules, the dangers and harms that come with the hero's work.

In any case, if you are a person who, although you have flaws that might seem out of place with the style of life that has been imposed on Keigo, but you are still a person who is willing to do better, fight and resist for the relationship, believe me that the he will put the same as you and more.

Probably at the beginning there will be many problems, Keigo is not a man used to his life not being just for him, and perhaps you are not used to living with someone like him, but part of a relationship is learning, step by step and with a lot of time, love can change things if you use it well.

Of course, like any person, he has his good things and bad things.

🟥 Red Flags:

• At first he's a very independent and close person: Being independent can be a very good thing and a good sign, but when it comes to Keigo, it is not the same. His independence is too big to be considered a good thing, he has grown up and lived his entire life believing that he is the one against the world and only he has the right to know what is going through his mind, so it wouldn't be the kind of boyfriend who is asking your approval or telling you about his day. But he knows that that is not right, so I firmly believe that he would correct it to the point of telling you his problems.

• He's sarcastic: Come on guys, you could see this coming from the second this hero appeared on the screen and started making the most annoyed faces a face can make. It's not like he does it in a bad way often, but when arguments start he would get on your nerves with his sarcastic comments, probably minimizing the problems or making you look wrong, even stupid in the worst cases.

• You are the priority, but if people need him, he will leave: This is a very extensive topic and contains many reasons. You are the most important thing in his life, if you leave he would be totally devastated and depressed than anyone else could be, but he simply cannot reject the call, if his phone vibrates and they tell him that they need him he will already be acting the hero suit. It's not that he wants to leave you, it's that he can't stay, it's that he has been educated to always leave.

• He is jealous: Normally it is not something that bothers you, it can even be something that the two of you later make fun of in private, but there are some times that if he seems to be intense about it, he is not attracted to the idea of you leave, that you change him or that you abandon him, so although he always tries to keep himself in line, there are few cases in which he goes too far, when he marks someone as his rival he will forever be "the disgusting guy who wants with you", and he could say offensive things about him, start fights so that you stay away from him and even demonstrate his jealousy without any type of shame.

• "Is not that deep": I don't know why, but I'm very sure that Keigo would say this MANY times, like you may have told him that it's something that bothers you, or something that hurt you, or you're just telling him a story, and he responds with the damn "is not that deep." Partly it's because like I said before he won't tell you something just because it happened to him, so he doesn't understand why you're open about it.

OKAY BUT, he has hes beautiful Green Flags and all that, SO let's goOoOooOOoOOOoo

🟩 Green Flags

• He drives you to achieve and fulfill your own goals: He would be a man who not only asks, he also offers, he would never ask you to support him in his goal of a better and more relaxed world for those who are heroes without first supporting you in any goal that you have worn. You need money? He can give it to you, do you need to improve yourself? Ok, here he is to support you, do you just feel tired of trying? Well he will give you a reason to do it again.

• "Let's see each other even if it's just for 5 minutes?": He leads a busy life but he takes you into account in every second of it, it's true that it's hard for him to tell you about it, it's hard for him to open up, but he loves seeing you, even if he doesn't express it correctly, he loves to be there for you even though he may not tell you that he thinks about it, he loves to give you time even if it means more fatigue for his body.

• Stop having attitudes that make you feel bad: Did you read all the previous red flags? WELL HAWKS TROLL YOU BECAUSE HE CHANGE WHAT YOU ASK HIM TO DO, GIRL!!!! He would make an effort because he doesn't take it lightly, it is difficult and takes a lot of time, but he keeps trying.

• "I saw this and I remembered you": I repeat, Keigo takes you into account every second, even if at first he can't express it correctly. But he is a bird, he will bring you any stuffed animal, bracelet, candy, necklace, clothing or toy that he finds in a store and has a detail as beautiful as you.

• Hella touchy: Bro, if you don't consider this a good thing I'm really sorry but what the hell are you doing reading something about Takami Keigo, Get the fuck out of here! He will never have one hand far from you in moments of rest and time as a couple. A simple hand on your thigh while the two of you are eating or while he is finishing work papers, a few light cuddles on your hair while he is falling asleep, a hand on your cheek before kissing you, a hand on your waist to hug you, and if i keep going, I don't finish the list.

[pumpkinbxtch]

hi! I love your Apollo fics sm can I please request a fic we’re the reader is Percy’s older sister and she finds out there’s like a prophecy of her marrying Apollo and then like they eventually meet and fall and love and then what there marriage is like

𓇼 the sun & the sea 𓇼 〰✷〰

— apollo / lester x daughter of poseidon!reader

— part i | part ii | part iii | part iv |

☆ radiostar is playin': hot rod by dayglow...!

summary: There is a prophecy waiting for you to listen to it and although it may not be something you expect or consider possible. You know what they say about prophecies…they can't fail to come true.

warnings: none BUT long read, literally. got out of hand and i couldn't stop writing. that's bad? oh, fuck me, i'm sorry. a/n: i appreciate your request, thank you (although I think I changed it a little, sorry). HEAR ME OUT I feel like I owe a lot of love to those who love Apollo, so that's why I didn't entertain the idea of ​​making this long. Hope you like I know it's long, but I promise I did my best to make it bearable and fun, I swear. 😭

“The sea and the sun are not far away as they look…”

They told you to stay away from the attic of The Big House, but they never told you why.

“Only he can go up”, they said, and it seemed stupid to you because he was your younger brother; you were supposed to protect him.

“It's very dangerous”, they told you while Annabeth went up, even though you were a couple of years older than her.

“Only if you lead some quest, but…” but no, because as the years went by, they made sure to remind you of your place. They told you that you were powerful, smart, and capable, because, yes, you were Poseidon's firstborn, but not the chosen one. That was Percy, your brother. Did it hurt? Yes, as an older sister, you tend to aspire to greatness and be an example, but you didn't die; you got over it.

“What does it matter? Less work for me” you said as you watched your brother's back on all the missions. Anyway, you ended up stuck in his destiny.

“His destiny. But then, what's mine?” you wondered. Then, when you took a step near Rachel Dare's cave, they stopped you too.

“It's–”

“Dangerous.” You completed the familiar phrase with a look of disgust, avoiding Chiron's eyes. He just looked at you with pity, thinking to himself that if you went in there, you could cause more trouble for your father or Olympus… Or everyone; it would be a war among all the Olympians, something they didn't need with Titan Kronos already on their heels.

Dionysus gave you his typical mocking smile, the same one that made you want to grab the can of Diet Coke and throw it right at his disgusting Christmas-reindeer-red nose.

“It would be so interesting, but we don't need it,” he said as he dragged you away from Rachel with Chiron.

You weren't stupid, you knew there was some good reason. But damn, those fossils were sneaky and never let you get to your redheaded companion, who also avoided you like the plague. Between those two things, you never managed to achieve it. Even less so after you ended up fighting on the Argo II with your new friends, straight from real Greece.

Oh, man, if you had thought Kronos was a damn old grump, Gaea was an old ball-buster. You didn't even have time to think about your future when you didn't know if you had one.

After the second war is when you started to throw in the towel about the future. You realized that the last thing you wanted to know at that moment was whether you would have to fight against twelve more Titans, return to Tartarus, or travel to Alaska again.

New Rome became your new home, and you only waited for Percy to catch up with you along with everyone else. That is, until you returned home to pack new things and didn't find your brother studying just as he should be.

— Mom? — You asked when she came back from shopping.

She gave you that look, and you cursed.

— Relax, he'll be back in a while; he just went to drop off Apollo or well, now he's Lester because apparently he's no longer a god but Zeus…

— Wow. Wait, what?

As a hero of Olympus, touching, seeing, or talking to the gods was never impossible for you; in fact, it was much more usual for your taste, and although you had been through too much already, that was new. So, you found yourself immediately traveling to Long Island Sound on the back of a Pegasus, looking for your brother. You wouldn't let Apollo, Lester, or whatever he called himself now take your brother away to distract him with his godly stuff that surely wouldn't lead to anything good.

— Where's Percy?! — You shouted in the dining hall, making the campers flinch.

Chiron got up from his seat, and from there, he smiled at you, but it only put you in a worse mood.

— Dear, it's been a long journey. Please, sit and eat with us.

You lowered your head without taking your eyes off Chiron and tightened the dagger on your belt. There was no reason for it, you knew, but you couldn't help feeling that fury after knowing everything you had been through. Percy deserved a break.

— Where's my brother? — The pause between words made the campers squirm in their uncomfortable seats. They had heard about you, about everyone. to be exact, in the third lesson of history in their camp classes.

— He left Apollo and Meg in a field not far from here — Chiron decided to sit back down and began to spread the tablecloth nervously. — He probably should have already reached home while you were flying here.

You sighed, and as you relaxed your body, everyone seemed to feel relieved.

— He has exams, Chiron — He nodded, and you made your way to the table where he was.

— In fact, there are problems, and apparently, he promised to come back this weekend — Your eyebrows furrowed again, and Dionysus laughed.

— Girl, shouldn't you be in New Rome?

— I went home for a few more things, also taking the opportunity to see my family, and it turns out that my little brother was helping an ex god who can't fend for himself, risking his studies. — You replied without looking at him — And speaking of brothers, you should control yours, Mr. D.

The god of wine snorted, and you formed a mocking smile. — Insolent.

— Miss Jackson — Chiron intervened, and you softened your gaze toward him — You can stay tonight, you know you're welcome and after all, it's too late to travel on Pegasus.

You didn't argue with them; you'd never put your pegasus in danger. So, for the first time in a long time, you returned to your cabin, the same one you shared with Percy and Tyson for so many years, and you had to admit that you missed him. At dawn, you were preparing to travel, and you left at the moment you thought no one was watching you, how wrong you were because a few meters away, Apollo was hidden behind the cabin piles, admiring you from afar.

— She… — He felt his heart tighten, and his gaze unfocused. He cursed his mortal body for how weak it was.

— Pervert! — Meg shouted, alerting the other campers who turned confused, and Apollo blushed.

— Shut up, I'm not a pervert — He smiled exaggeratedly at the others, pretending a smile and letting them know that everything was fine.

— You saw her — Said a voice behind him once Meg was far enough away to hear. The brunette turned and smiled sheepishly.

— For a second — Apollo replied, avoiding his old friend's gaze; embarrassment nibbled at his body, and it became evident once his cheeks glowed.

Chiron had never seen him… like that, so young, embarrassed, and notably imperfect, but despite Apollo's opinions about his recent change, he thought it suited him well, even found it amusing.

— You remember…

— I remember it well, Chiron — Apollo blushed even more — That's why I didn't approach her; dealing with my father's wrath is enough. Now I don't want to annoy Poseidon or I'll probably wake up dead on the lake shore tomorrow.

He played with the tips of his sneakers as buried them in the rocks on the floor; he looked like a scared little boy, but Chiron didn't judge him.

— I think you know what it means when she's around when you're close.

The ex god didn't want to pay attention, but he knew he was right.

— Although I remember who she is… there’s a problem. I don't remember how to avoid her…— Apollo's blue eyes looked directly at Chiron's, and the urgency on his face told him he was telling the truth. — If I don't know now, it's going to be harder; all I can do is hide if she's near.

— We've lasted many years with this circus, and as much as I respect the lord of the seas, I don't think this will last long. And you know what's more stubborn than a son of the sea god?

— The sea god — Apollo raised his eyebrows in annoyance, and Chiron resisted rolling his eyes.

— Fate, Apollo. You know it well, things are written. The prophecy is still there; it exists, and all we've done is delay the inevitable.

The brunette nodded with annoyance and waved his hand dismissively.

Although he wanted to pretend that he didn't care, the anxiety of what was to come ate at him. He knew very well that it wouldn't take long for you to discover what all these years had been hidden from you. If Apollo reflected better on that, he wasn't sure he wanted to continue keeping it to himself, either, 'cause those years had been torture for him. Yeah, he knew that you weren't yet mature enough for your mind to be stained with the weight of a prophecy that, unlike the others, not had to do with some quest or some imminent danger that threatened the entire world; but now you are in college, he couldn't wait for you to know.

The thing was, your father thought that the one who could be in danger was you, his precious daughter since Apollo was selfish, arrogant, and immature to have been around for eons. Poseidon could not fully explain the reason The Fates had woven such a destiny for you. So, until things had and could happen at the right time, in the right way, he warned Apollo to be close to you and he knew so well that be such an idiot idea to make him angry.

Before his thoughts could swallow him, Apollo shake them off and sigh to Chiron.

— Right now, I have a bigger problem. I think we've found something.

— Where?

— Here — Chiron frowned, and Apollo looked towards the camp's forest. — My dear friend, you have the Grove of Dodona here, in your playground.

Apollo didn't know that of all the decisions he had made in his life, avoid you was the best one he could make, because even if you had met that day or before, with the things that were about to happen to him, he wouldn't come back as half the man he was.

“Things at the moment, in time” the fates whispered in some place.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

RagaPom fan kid when🥺?

Jk but I ADORE your art so much i might as well be called a believer of it 🙇‍♀️

Harlequin!Jesterdoll fankid - Anya!

I gotchu homie I should probably also clarify that the fankids aren't canon-

This is Anya, or Aanya Belle. She is Pomni and Ragatha's child, and is the second child puppet to ever grace the world. Quite possibly the most emotional one too, earning her the title "Little Sensitive Poppet". She's sweet and empathetic like Ragatha, but she doesn't have a temper. She instead inherited her harlequin mom's intense emotional reaction, but for other emotions. Her classification is a Mannequin.

She gets scared quite easily and ends up crying for hours, which made Jax give up a teddy bear he had been keeping near and dear to him. Aanya has been never seen without the teddy bear ever since.

Yes, to everyone's surprise, Jax is good with kids.

She has the largest sense of empathy out of anyone, a trait clearly inherited from Ragatha. So much so to the point that she's willing to abandon her "safety spot" (which is any furniture she can hide behind) and comfort you with her teddy bear if she so much as senses you're upset.

Her relationship with her half-brother was a little rocky at the start; Cade was overexcited over the idea of a new playmate (that wasn't Bubble) and kept wanting to bite her fingers off, and so had to be kept in his favorite box to calm him down, and make him get used to his new half-sister's presence. Soon enough, he learned to get along, and eventually, their sibling bond strengthened.

Cade would hug Anya if he notices that she's distressed (which is something that my irl baby brother does and I used it as inspo here) and would not hesitate to step in the big brother role to protect her if there's a threat.

He also attends her miniature tea parties, although for some reason he likes to stay in his box when the tea party commences. He never touches the teddy bear either, and even seems to want to avoid to touch it. Pomni thinks it's because he doesn't wanna end up ruining it.

When Cade turned six months, Ragatha started avoiding Caine, which made the puppetmaster confused. There were no more invites to tea parties, no more friendly talks, and no longer did Ragatha ask Caine if he had another vinyl she could listen to. All the more, Pomni looked extremely guilty everytime they would talk, and looked like she really wanted to tell Caine something.

Caine didn't prod at the girls' relationship, since he knows it's not exactly his concern/nor is it his business. But when one day that Pomni came rushing in to his office for help because Ragatha collapsed in pain, Caine wasted no time rushing to her aid.

Once all symptoms were described to him, he immediately managed to connect the dots that Ragatha's die was also housing two souls, and that it went on for so long, it was already starting to kill her off FOR GOOD. When the puppetmaster asked why she had kept it a secret, Ragatha admitted that she felt guilty; Cade was already in this world and that she had no right to have a child with Pomni, yet here it was.

Caine was immensely disappointed, but not because of the little soul's existence. Instead, he was upset that Ragatha would rather risk her very own life for something so non-trivial, and that the doll was freaking out over nothing. After an intense and dangerous procedure since the incomplete soul's grip onto Ragatha was stronger than Cade's was, Caine managed to extract and transfer the soul, but Ragatha remained unconscious for three moons because of the exertion it took.

He told Pomni to keep the die for now, and wait until Ragatha wakes up, so they can both decide whether they want to keep the little one or not. Pomni, guilt-ridden, questions why he's remained calm, and not exploded over the fact that she and Ragatha created a new existence without his permission, and Caine simply replies "Whoever told you that you both needed my blessing for it, needs their heads bashed in"

Eventually, Ragatha wakes up and apologizes to Caine for giving him so much trouble. The puppetmaster is quick to comfort the mannequin, and that he's relieved that Ragatha survived. He then reassures both Puppets that they didn't have to keep secrets like this from him out of shame, since their polyamory relationship was consensual from both parties in the first place. After a reconciliation, Caine asked the question: Will they keep the soul, or not?

They chose to keep it. And in only a few months thanks to Caine's prior knowledge, Anya was officially welcomed into the world.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Heart Sutra ~ Buddha x Goddess! Reader

Gate gate para gate para sam gate bodhi swaha...

"Your pronunciation is getting better, Y/N." King Jataka laid on the grass, underneath a tree, watching the beautiful woman besides him create various models of flower crowns with her magic. "Really? You truly think so?" her charming smile seemed to radiate as bright and warm as the Sun itself. "Yes, I think so. A little more, and you can sing the Heart Sutra perfectly." Jataka found himself smiling also. "Ahh, you are being far too nice, 'Taka." she waved her hand dismissively, returning to her idle work. "Y/N, do you mind if I ask you something?" she hummed, encouraging him to continue. "You are a Goddess. Why have you been staying at my court, disguised as a Bodhisattva?" he asked, deep in thought. Y/N turned her head to look at him properly. "Why, you ask?" Y/N didn't have an immediate answer. "I suppose because it makes me happy." "Does it, really?" he murmured, intrigued. "I think so, yes." she smiled kindly. "Every time I see the smiles of people that I healed, my heart bursts with happiness, and I feel lighter. In this prospect, I suppose that yes, being here, among humans, and aiding them does make me happy." "You are always smiling." Jataka nodded his head, pensive. "You have the most beautiful smile I've ever seen." "Jataka." she called out his name, placing the flower down and leaning back on the tree. "What is bothering you?" "Ahaha... Saw right through me, didn't you? No wonder you're a Goddess governing the nature, peace and serenity. Only someone pure and benevolent like yourself could understand my troubled heart." the King spoke softly. "I am nearing the end of my life, and through this, I have come to realise that although I have done my duty well, made my people happy and that my kingdom is flourishing... You see... I feel... Unfulfilled. I feel... Empty. Like there is something missing. I feel... Deep unrest and... Sadness. As though I am nostalgic over something that I have never had... And never will."

"Your reason for sadness is the very reason over which I took a leave of absence from home, up there." Y/N gently wrapped her arms around the King, placing his head on her lap. "There is no creature alive that can feel happiness over being controlled by a higher being. We blame destiny and duty, or even Gods for out sadness... But the truth is, Jataka... We are the masters of our own destiny, and only we have power over our own lives." Y/N looked away with a sarcastic smile. "If only that were entirely true, huh?" "Lavishing in all these material luxuries, being hidden away from any misfortune, I have been ignorant over what it meant to live." the man sighed deeply. "As I watched the starry skies one night, from the balcony, I realised how vast the skies are - And if the skies are endless, then so must the Earth be. I watched birds fly, unhindered by any restraint, and I realised that I was nothing more than a caged falcon, bound by a rope, never allowed to venture too far. Since my birth, I have been told that I must uphold my duties as a prince - As the future King - And I did everything as best as I could, out of filial love and duty for the people I am responsible for." Jataka felt a sense of relief, feeling the Goddess' hand gently caressing his silvery locks. "Do you think I am selfish, Y/N? For wishing for my own happiness, for once?" "No, Jataka. I do not think you are selfish. Truth is..." though Y/N smiled, it was bitter, and a tear escaped down her cheek. "I am just a little upset that you did not realise it until it was too late." a few more tears followed close behind, surprising the young King. "You are such a good man, Jataka. It always pains me, seeing young men and women like you, who have done only good in their life, and are repaid with only misfortune. I hate how unfair life can be, and I hate that I am unable of meddling with diseases that humans cannot conquer yet. If I were to keep every living being alive, forever, than it would only bring calamity and a disbalance of life." Jataka felt a pang of pain in his heart, realising the emotional woman before him cared so much for him and all the people she governed over - Despite all the births, deaths and rebirths that she's witnessed over the course of aeons, for as long as she has been alive - She still couldn't get over the suffering of loss. "But if I make an exception with you, then I would have to make an exception with everyone, as my heart wouldn't allow me to spare one over the other. A cruel fate, out of which I cannot escape. And you, Jataka, are correct, you are no different - A beautiful song bird, trapped in a golden cage, embellished with the most precious jewels, forced to sing the songs of the nobles, yet unable to break free and witness and experience the world in front of your eyes; Unable to spread your wings and feel the air brushing through your feathers."

Y/N felt two gentle hands cradling her face, wiping away her diamond beads of tears which created blooming flowers where they fell on the ground. Jataka smiled, and kissed her forehead. "Having your love means more to me than anything else in the world." he spoke in a soft voice which mellowed the Goddess' heart further into trembling with emotion. "Though I cannot live the life that I wished, nor live eternal in this mortal husk that my body is - I have a single wish, that only you may fulfill. It is the only thing that can bring me a little comfort. Can you promise me something, please?" "Of course. I will do anything." she placed her hands over his own, intertwining their fingers together. "Please, take care of Siddhartha for me. He is still young and naive, still fooled by the luxuries of the palace. He needs you, the same as I do. He is a good man. Please, care for him the same as you did for me." the two locked eyes, and their hearts came to a deep understanding. A vow was formed, for millennia to come. "I will."

Weeks passed by, and though Siddhartha had no clue that Y/N was actually a Goddess, he enjoyed his time spent with her and Jataka. Ever since she appeared at his Kingdom, quite a while ago, he felt that those two were kindred spirits, in ways that few could accomplish, as though they could understand each other simply through looks and smiles. Or maybe that's how mature adults think. One of the two, he wasn't quite sure. Either way, he often teased Jataka about taking her as one of his wives. He always got scolded when he did.

Y/N wasn't the most talkative, but he always appreciated her care for everyone, including him. All her kind words and sweet actions towards people made the young man want to spend more and more time with her.

At some point, he even came over to her, offering flowers - He had the most innocent, boyish grin - He was so adorable, really. Still, for some reason, Y/N only smiled sweetly at him, kissing his cheek and went away. Though he was flustered, he also felt... Rejected? Maybe his intentions weren't obvious enough? He wasn't quite sure - Not to mention, Jataka just laughed, but gave him no answer. Was he teasing him? Ha!

Jataka's time was nearing its end, and for the first time since they've known each other, Siddhartha was met with a confusing confession for his elder brother figure - The validity of his happiness. Was he happy, truly? Was the material world was the soul's fulfillment was? Or perhaps he was too shallow to realise... Or too inexperienced? Jataka said he realised how much he wanted to see the world and... Live. Alas, he couldn't, not only because of his illness, but because of his duties as a King, trapped in the comforting gold of his kingdom.

He panicked, seeing his older brother's bitter smile, looking into the horizon at the setting Sun, and he felt dread, watching the blood dripping down his hand as he continued to cough.

When the country went into deep mourning, he was shocked not to see Y/N anywhere. She must be glued to the coffin, no doubt. Everyone knew she was the closest person Jataka ever had. As Siddhartha rode towards the kingdom, he saw the people sobbing and weeping for their deceased King.

"The life I lived, who did it belong to, in the end?"

"Do you truly think I am a happy person?"

These questions rung through Siddhartha's mind, as soon as he heard that one assumption - "The king must have been truly happy."

But was he, really? Who's to say he was actually happy? The kingdom's prosperity? The people's well-being? No war, nor famine or plague in the lands he was governing?

At once, Siddhartha came to a revelation. He jumped off his horse, and weeping, he started cackling loudly, making people believe his grief drove him to madness.

As expected, as soon as he entered in the temple, he was met with sobbing people, lots of flowers, and a single woman glued to the King's coffin. Yes, Y/N loved flowers, and consequently, so did Jataka - Hence why Siddhartha gathered a whole basket of field flowers and strutted all the way to the coffin, throwing flowers around.

"Siddhartha...?" Y/N's sweet voice called out to him softly as she rose her crying face to look up at him. "You were right. I understand now, and I admit, you were right." he smiled at her. "I won't say it a second time though." "What are you talking about?" Siddhartha moved his gaze to Jataka, and offered a melancholic smile. "Hey, bro. You 'bout ready to go out of here?" with extraordinary strength, Siddhartha picked Y/N and placed her gingerly on his shoulder, as his other hand held Jataka's coffin. He was completely deaf to all the others yelling at him to stop his mad actions. "Piss off. Whatever Gods you're praying at today - My bro Jataka doesn't need their blessings. Because happiness... Comes from within."

Y/N gasped hearing his bold words - And she started crying. She was proud of him. Afternoon came, and the two knelt on the ground, gazing at the beautiful King amongst the flowers, having his coffin lowered onto the river sheen. "You are free, my friend. Now go and find your happiness yourself." they watched him disappear into the horizon, engulfed into the red rays of the beautiful Sun.

For the first time in the many years since they've known each other, Siddhartha witnessed Y/N offering him her undivided attention. As soon as the silhouette of the coffin was visible no more, she threw her arms around his torso and sobbed like a child. Siddharta smiled, moved that someone cared so much for his bro, and he held her smaller form into his embrace. "Why are you crying so much, you little crybaby? Don't you know - Suffering is only a concept bound to the material world. One day, when we enter Samsara, our souls will reunite with Bro's, and we will be friends again, in our next life - Again, and again, until we reach awakening and attain Nirvana." his words sounded so wise, unlike the childish beliefs of yester-year. "It is alright to upset, the wound is still fresh and ablaze. But Y/N - One should find happiness in remembering the beautiful memories guiding your future, rather than mourning the past." "I am so proud of you, Siddhartha." her words were nothing that he expected, and the young man was taken aback. "You are right. Yes, you are entirely right. If only that life was kinder to benevolent souls like yourself and Jataka." she continued vaguely.

Y/N rose her head to look up at him, a wide smile through her tears. "But, Siddhartha, you see - That truth only applies to mortals. As a Goddess, seeing beautiful souls die so young... Beautiful flowers withering all around you, as the garden you tended with so much love and care dies upon winter... It hurts every time, and no matter how many thousands of years pass, I cannot get over the suffering that loss has on me." Siddharta frowned slightly, confused at her statement. "Goddess, you say? Ha! That's funny." he grinned at her. "You see, I have just come to the realisation that I absolutely despise anything that tries to control my actions. I am a firm believer that we seam the tapestry of our own lives through the choices we make. Now I understand why Bro was so upset last time we met. You knew all this, didn't you, you little minx?" "Of course I did." she huffed lightly. "Siddhartha - Do you hate me for not saving Jataka? Now that you know my identity, you must be very upset that I just let him die." The young man let out an over-dramatic hum, placing his hand to his chin as if to mock thinking, before he popped out a negative answer. At least he retained his childish vitality. "What are you Goddess over, anyway? You healed people. Goddess of Life or what?" "Nature, Peace and Serenity." Siddhartha let out a sound of understanding. "No wonder I and Bro felt so good around you! It's like everything was good around you!" he cackled weirdly. "Must be hard on you, huh?" his theatrical expression turned more gentle and kind. "Having to take care of so many things at once. You know, my wife told me once that she can feel what our child feels. I'm not sure how it works, but it must be similar with you and everything you create right?" Y/N nodded her head, albeit, bewildered at the accurate comparison that he figured out on the spot. "Having to feel the emotion of every living being must be a huge pain in the ass." Y/N giggled in amusement. "I love and care for every living being, Siddhartha. It is like a gardener tending to a flower garden. Every human, every animal, every tree. Everything has life, and their vitality, their energy surges through my veins." she explained, taking a step back. She rose her hands up to take his hair away from his tail, letting it swish with the wind. His hair was so long, that it matches her own. "You dig in the dirt with your own fingers, and you bury the seed of life. Every morning, every afternoon and night, you tend to this seed, and care for it - You water it and fertilize it, protect it from parasites and the harsher weathers. When it comes up from under the first, you see the cutest, littlest sprout, braving to live and grow more. You watch it get bigger, and stronger over the course of many days, until finally, it reaches maturity, and it blossoms into the most beautiful flower." she smiled widely, creating a gorgeous flower crown, which she placed on his head. "But once it reaches maturity, the risk of illness increases. It matures until it grows old. You watch it lose its vibrant colours, the petals fall off one by one, until only a frail stem remains, falling from the faintest breeze, until finally, the roots rot, and the flower is no more." Siddhartha's grim comment about life made Y/N's beautiful gem-like eyes gleam with emotion. "So is life, yes." despite being overwhelmed with emotion, Y/N continued to speak. "Out of all my flowers - Siddhartha, you are my most beautiful lotus flower, and I am most proud of you." the young man blushed in surprised. "Creating humans, creating life - It is the effort of the collective of Gods, not mine alone; But creating, and caring for, is different. I may not be able to look over every living being in this large, large world, but I am most honoured that I was able to meet you and see you grow into such a wise young man."

At once, Siddhartha pulled Y/N into a tight hug, swinging her around enthusiastically. "Awwww, you're the sweetest! You're making me blush!" Y/N was quickly beginning to get dizzy from all the twirling and swinging around from the awfully strong prince. "What did you promise Bro?" "Oh? You knew about that?" Y/N chuckled softly, trying to regain her balance. "I promised that I would take care of you, the same way I did for him." Siddharta grinned widely. "Nope!" Y/N looked at him, a little confused. "I've got a better idea, actually." he brought Y/N at arm's length, his hands placed firmly on her shoulders. "You knew I liked you, didn't you?" Y/N nodded her head. "But a mortal doesn't live long enough, so they can't hang around an immortal, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered towards the river, before nodding again. "Welp, I've got an idea!" his dazzling smile was more charming than any God. "You see, I want to go on a pilgrimage, all by myself. I want to find myself, and my own happiness. I want to find my purpose. I need to do this alone - Though don't worry, if I am to encounter a like-minded friend, then we will travel together." he spoke. "Will you wait for my return, Y/N? Until I reach my Enlightenment and become an iteration of myself with which I can be proud of?" Y/N smiled dearly at the young man, glowing like the morning Sun. "I will wait for you for as many cycles it takes you to find me again. I hope that, by the time you return, you will have achieved true happiness, and I can see your beautiful smile again. Siddhartha."

The young man smiled brightly before pulling Y/N into a sweet kiss. "Something to look forward to." he gave her a peace sign before walking away. "See ya, Y/N! Laters!" "Have a safe journey, you little troublemaker." Y/N smiled dearly, waving at him. Though life as a God was long and tedious, and relationships were shallow, she felt a pure love like she's never experienced before. Whether she sees the young man again or not, she knew he was going to be just fine.

Since then, Y/N returned to the Gods, continuing her boring life, watching over the nature of Earth from above. Life truly wasn't all that exciting for deities living so long, but once in a while, something big happens - Big enough for the whole foundation of Valhalla to shake to the core.

If a human becoming a demi-God wasn't exceptional enough, considering the bravery and righteousness that Heracles displayed; A man had somehow attained supreme spiritual awakening, and ascended to the title of Buddha the Enlightened, the Wise. A human achieved Godhood.

Siddhartha Gautama

As soon as he saw the Goddess, completely frozen from shock of seeing him in Heavens, he let out a childish squeal and leapt on her, rubbing his cheek on her face as though he's a kitten or something. He told her how much he missed her and what not - Surprise! He even had his own brand of delicious lollipops to share with her! And lots and lots of chocolate too! Oh, and they had so much to catch up!

He told Y/N all about his journey and the people he met, those he guided on their path to achieving happiness, and all the sightseeing he did. Best of all, he reminisced all the awakening he did over the years - And how much he missed her! Haha, a joke - He is always determined to get what he wants, so of course, he was patient. Craving would only bring him suffering, thus the knowledge of knowing the Goddess was there, waiting for him, soothed his worried into a calm peace of mind.

Siddhartha - Now, Buddha - Still felt so giddy, being called by his name. Only Y/N could call him that, of course! No one else had that privilege. The more she spoke his name, the happier he was. Buddha ended up playfully pinning Y/N to the bed, kissing all over her face and tickling her, feeling his heart lighter with every sweet giggle she let. When she couldn't take the tickling anymore, the Goddess wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him flush against her chest; She took off his hair tie once again, and the pretty crown-like accessory holding it in a lotus-like style, and she caressed his locks soothingly. "I missed you." three simple words, yet they had the strongest effect on him. He felt compelled to engulf her in his strong arms, cuddling together, two hearts soulbound for an eternity of spiritual happiness.

Many, many years passed, and Buddha and Y/N were inseparable. Gods may argue, and so do humans, but never once did anyone even see them disagree on anything, let alone argue. Was it the endless patience and compassion of the Buddha, or that Y/N was always too kind to say anything that might upset someone, and detested confrontation; She'd rather walk away, or smile, instead of disagreeing with anyone.

That was their biggest similarity, but also, their biggest difference - Buddha was never one to back away from a fight against someone he couldn't stand - In his case, most of the Gods. Ironic, isn't it, he told Y/N so many times; How one can detest the very being they became, with the same strength that they love another just as much. He was a God who hated Gods, yet a God, who loved a Goddess as much as he loved the happiness and freedom he achieved.

"You have to find your own happiness within you." he told her once, watching Y/N dancing around the forest. Everywhere she stepped, flowers grew. "That may be so, Siddhartha - But my happiness increases whenever I see you." she bent to his side, grabbing his wrists and pulling him up to dance with her. Though all kinds of flowers bloomed wherever she stepped, hence why she always walked with no shoes on; Where Buddha stepped, beautiful white lilies grew. Together, they created endless flower gardens, more ethereal than any other God could make.

One would think eternal bliss was in store for them - Alas, one so connected to Nature as Y/N, was bound to suffer greatly, to the hands of the mankind she cherished so much. Buddha often saw how Y/N would try to sneak away into the forests, all alone. Though he hadn't seen her, he could sense her distress, her agony. After the third time that she refused to confide in him, preferring to keep the problem hidden, the newly Awaken God decided to confront her himself.

Instead, once he arrived at the edge of the forest, he found Y/N collapsed on the grass, writhing in pain. Panicked, he fell to his knees, cradling her in his arms, calling out her name; She seemed feverish and weak, but Gods couldn't contract illnesses, could they? Surely, they can't. He held her tight in her embrace, wishering the Heart Sutra in her ear over and over again, until finally, her breathing evened out, and the pain subsided.

"Pfeww, don't scare me like that, gorgeous! You're going to give me a heart attack!" he collapsed on his back dramatically. "Forgive me... I didn't want you to see me like this." Y/N sighed, rolling on the grass next to him. "I did not want you to see me cursing the humanity that I loved so much." "Humanity caused you this pain? What do you mean?" he turned to his side, his blue water lily eyes widening. "Take a look for yourself." she guided him to the edge of the floating forest. "Look there - They are at war. Countless people are dying all at once, the grass is drowning in blood, the animals are perishing." she sighed softly, before pointing to the opposite side. "And there - The deforestation, the excessive hunting - That whole hill is bare of life and decrepit, all so that humans may build and build and build some more." "Ahh, I see, so I was more right than I realised, though to think it would affect you to the point of being physically ill. My poor, poor baby Y/N!" he threw his arms around her, rolling on the grass with her dramatically. There was nothing that he could do to save her from this - It was the course that humanity took for itself, but perhaps there might be a way to somehow detach her, even by a little bit, from her connection with that which was created. Perhaps, that-a-way, the suffering may subside. Until then, however, he can only distract her with his love and playfulness. It was working wonders.

For thousands of years, humanity existed, with the will of the Gods, until that will was no more. Even Aphrodite herself, disgusted with the state of the world, agreed to decimate mankind. Shocked with the outcome, Y/N was the first to step forward and protest. Though she couldn't see Buddha looking at her, she could feel his presence and his lingering gaze. She wanted to fight for the mankind that destroyed her from within. None of the actions of humanity were directly affecting either of the Gods, except for her for the most part. She was the only one with the validity of voting, and if she wanted mankind to continue living, she had every right to vouch for them.

But they didn't care for her opinions - Instead, they laughed, saying her pain will disappear along with the humans, and she can achieve serendipity. How ridiculous. Thankfully, Brunhilde's plan of inducing Ragnarok worked, and thus, the thirteen fights were to take place.

Worried, Y/N quickly rushed out of the conference room, needing some time alone to regain herself. She was panicking and afraid. True, eliminating the humans was bound to relieve her heart of suffering - But at what cost? There were so many good people, innocent people out there, who did nothing wrong. Why should they perish, for the mistakes of others? Like how Adam and Even were cast away from Heaven, due to the disgusting lies and deceit of the Snake, so will billions and billions of other people suffer eternal Doomsday.

It wasn't fair.

A mother doesn't kill their own child for misbehaving. The Gods were being as selfish as always.

"N'aww, sweet-cheeks, don't tell me you're crying again! You know it breaks my heart seeing you like this!" though Buddha wasn't expecting to be pinned to the wall, Y/N's fingers digging deep into his shoulders. "We can't let them die, Siddhartha! We can't! They are innocent!" Y/N cried out, looking into his beautiful eyes. "Please, don't tell me you're on their side! We can't - We can't let them die! But what can we do? We are so few, against so many of them - And they're all so unreasonable and short-sighted." Buddha felt pain in his heart, listening to the distress of her voice, seeing the glimmering of her eyes. "I know! I'll... I'll fight for mankind! I... I've never fought in my life... But I am the Goddess of Peace. To know Peace is to know War; and to know War, is to know Peace. One must protect that which he holds dear. That's right, isn't it?" "Y/N." he called out in a gentle, calm voice. "Please, calm down." "Siddhartha...?" she found herself calling out his name. "You and I - We are soulbound, aren't we? We want the same thing. And you, more than anyone else in this world, know how much I hate being told what to do." he pulled her into a deep kiss. "And I'll be damned before I allow anyone to make you cry." Her distressed look turned into a content smile of relief, and she snuggled into his arms. "I love you so much." those words never failed to make his heart leap with joy.

Once Ragnarok began, Heimdall would call out the champions of the Gods, while Y/N would call the Mankind warriors to come over. It was the least she could do, apart from encouraging each of the fighters.

Mankind had a staggering two consecutive losses, and each time, Y/N took the short pause between matches to weep and regain herself. Staying in the ring for the duration of the fight, she used her magical powers to create a strong shield for the audience, so that none of the match-attacks would mistakenly harm anyone watching.

She felt sad yet emboldened seeing Lu Bu's tragic death, but also, his horse and brothers in arms asking for death, to be reunited in Niflheim with their General. She saw Thor smile for the first time in his life, after having fought with all of his mind against an honorable and strong member of mankind. Likewise, her heart shattered watching Adam's conviction is protecting his children from perdition, the very same she wished.

Thankfully, the great Sasaki was able to slash to death none other than Poseidon himself; Though not the most agreeable person, she still felt sad to see him gone forever. Alas. Y/N hugged the old man, thanking him for his resilience and strength before picking him up and bringing him to the infirmary.

The same happened with Jack the Ripper, a man despised by all mankind and humanity for being the scum of the earth. Y/N knew better - She knew all of their lives. In truth, though she disagreed with his actions, she pitied Jack, the poor man. He truly was a pitiable one. Unlike Poseidon, Heracles was wept by all, Gods and humans alike, whilst Jack got ostracised, ridiculed and insulted, even having stones thrown at him, despite already being injured. That angered Y/N.

"How dare you speak ill of the man who put his life on the line for humanity to keep living?! He has no descendants, he has no family - He fought for humanity, though he had nothing to gain out of it! He got the recognition of Heracles himself, and tied the score against the Gods with his shrewdness and wit - And yet you dare talk down to him? I don't see you in here, facing the wrath of the Gods who want you dead!" Buddha felt himself cackling from the stand, watching the Goddess pick up a grown man like he was a bride and actively healing him with love and care like none other before. What a darling she always was.

Unfortunately, Mankind lost the 5th match, with poor Raiden dying against Shiva, the God of Destruction. Still, the only good thing coming out of all the matches was that Y/N could sense the fighting Gods getting genuine admiration for the strength, selflessness and righteousness of humanity, beginning with Thor calling Lu Bu his friend, Zeus acknowledging Adam's strength in protecting his kin, Sasaki defeating Poseidon himself, Heracles loving humanity and Jack himself, and Shiva admiring Raiden's power.

And thus, the sixth match was to take place. The doors opened, and two rows of seven pink water lilies appeared - The familiar silhouette of Buddha appeared. Y/N looked at his unbothered face, blowing up bubblegum, his weapon lazily swung over his shoulder. He was smirking, winking at Y/N mischievously, reveling in the spotlight before he stepped by the Goddess' side and pulled her over into his side as he got to where the human representative was to stand.

He spit his gum in Heimdall's hand, snatching away his Gjallarhorn. "Excuse me. Testing. Testing." he spoke into the horn. "Uhhh... I'm gonna fight for Mankind. Ya dig?" the whole arena was in ecstasy. Numerous comments were thrown around, denigrating Buddha as he shattered the horn in his grasp. "Piss off." he pointed with his weapon towards Zeus. "Y'all made my girl cry. Screw you. If the Gods aren't going to save mankind, then I will. And if any God gets in my way..." he slammed the butt of the weapon into the ground, his expression now serious and devoid of any joy. "I'll kill 'em."

He truly is the kind not to take orders from anyone. Though Heimdall tried to press on that he can't switch sides, Zeus himself approved anyway. "Are you prepared to make enemies with all of the Gods?" "Dang, you're such a pain!" Buddha scoffed at Odin, pulling Y/N even closer to his side. "Remember what I said before? Whether you're allies or enemies, good or evil, Gods or Humans, none of that matters!" Buddha was glowing brightly with intense confidence. "In all universe, nothing else matters, except me!"

Such a narcissistic comment, added to the intense frustration of the Gods, made Y/N burst into laughter along with him. Two weirdos. "So, who am I fighting?"

The Seven Fortunes stepped into the arena and fused into a single deity. Vaisravana was no more, and instead, one called Zerofuku appeared. The Eight Gods of Fortune were actually a single entity. This Zerofuku guy was a real weirdo, even for their standards, and he confessed his intense wish to slaughter Buddha with all of his might, as he created his sinister weapons which got bigger and bigger the more misfortune he encountered.

Though Y/N didn't know of Zerofuku's past, he knew Buddha. He was able to take the misfortune of the humans into his own body, until he couldn't any more, only to receive discontempt and realise that those he tried to help were in no way less misfortunate than before. Material luxury and sinful indulgences did nothing to appease the soul. Instead, Zerofuku had to witness strings of people following Buddha in his path to Enlightenment. He got jealous, unable to understand his teachings - Yet somehow, no matter how cryptic or enigmatic Zerofuku found Buddha's words, the other people - Including those whom he helped previously - Began following the Awakened One close behind.

The more Zero attacked, the bigger his weapon grew, for Buddha could see the flickers of his soul and evade all the hits before they even happened. He was even taunting the God, intentionally or not, driving him into a mad frenzy. The few attacks that Buddha threw all landed with tremendous effect, earning cheers and applause from the audience.

Though he couldn't see Y/N reaction, Buddha was sure she was a worrying mess - That's her caring nature, after all - Yet seeing Zero's weapon growing as large as the whole arena, and him not moving from his spot, well - He feared she might be fainting on the spot, like a poor damsel in distress. Well, he'll just have to sweep her off her feet and protect her like the chevalier of light that he is!

Y/N knew, in theory, that Buddha's weapon transformed in each of the Six Paths identities depending on his emotions, and with his being a master at controlling his moods, he could form anything at will, more or less, so she wasn't all that surprised when the weapon transformed into a Shield to block the huge weapon. Still, she almost wished she could see all of the Paths.

Next, he used the Spiked Club of Nirvana, trembling to charge in an attack - And so he did, sweeping to the ground and causing lethal damage on the demon's side. The demon's weapon turned into two swords, to which Buddha made his weapon turn into a large halbert, easily countering every one of Zero's attacks. His misfortune was increasing, and his weapon turned into a multitude of hooks acting like snakes - He retaliated with a Vajra, running around and cutting them away to bits.

"Love yourself!" Buddha encouraged the poor demon. "I actually like you quite a lot, Zerofuku." that comment made the misfortunate one start sobbing and staring at the graceful God, shining brighter than the golden Sun. Zero's anger subsided and he finally understood who he really is, and what he wants from life. His weapon disappeared, and Buddha also threw his own to the ground, proposing an outright fist-fight. What a child, Y/N giggled, watching that playful smirk on his face as he intentionally allowed the pitiable demon to strike him back. Y/N could never image ever letting herself feel physical hurt just for fun - Alas, men were weird, and Buddha especially, was one of a kind.

Zerofuku was on the ground, sprawled, with all his misfortune and anger seeping out of his in a cloud. His purple hair turned pure white, and his blissful grin, that childlike innocence and glee were sparkling in his eyes. Buddha, also, was happy to have helped another worthy person achieve spiritual happiness - Until the horns on either side of his skull penetrated deep into his brain, worming their way inside his body. Zerofuku was engulfed by two dragons, one blue and one red. Buddha could do nothing to safe his new friend. Instead, he was forced to watch Zero disappearing, and a true evil appearing in his stead.

The Demon King of the Sixth Heaven, Papiyas, was reborn.

Buddha immediately leapt back, afraid for the first time, for there was a creature of pure darkness, whom he couldn't read. He hadn't an inkling of brightness in his soul which he could read. Y/N, like everyone else, was trembling from the sheer malevolence of the demon. Terrifying, Y/N ran in front of Buddha, standing protectively in front of him - She knew, if need be, her defense magic was second to none in Valhalla.

There goes this legend about a terrifying foe from Helheim - Hades told her this story once, dating before he was ruled of the Underworld - That this enemy destroyed half of the realm... Or rather, it was lucky enough that even half of it was left intact, to some degree.

Once Papiyas turned his arm into a weapon, Y/N summoned her polearm into her grasp, parrying the attack. The Gods all gasped - It has been thousands of years since they've seen the Goddess of Peace fight. In truth, it was only during the Titanomachy that she fought - To protect her Peace, one must go to War. It was an irony that she had to accept as a true axioma.

"H-Hey, Y/N, it's not your fight! Two people can't fight for a single side!" she heard Heimdall's shaky voice call out. "To hell with your rules, Heimdall! If this freak doesn't die, we're all screwed!" Y/N growled, struggling to push him back, counter and block all of his strikes that came at the speed of lightning. "If Zeus accepted the intervention of the Valkyries for all the other fights, then for goodness' sake, there's hardly any difference, is there?!" "I SHALL ALLOW IT!" Zeus' amused voice called out from the stands, as Y/N leapt back, just a step in front of Buddha. She was breathing heavily from the effort. "Siddhartha, stand back." her overprotectiveness was taking over her senses. "I will fight with my fullest power." Papiyas glared at the two. "THAT WAS YOU HOLDING BACK?!" Y/N cried out at him. "Gosh... Buddha, come over." quickly, Y/N placed a few flowers in his hair. "This will protect you from harm... I hope." she muttered the last bit, watching as Papiyas was preparing a drill-like strike called the Pandaemonium Cycle. Before she could react, Buddha dragged Y/N behind him, pulling his shield up - But the drill was capable of penetrating through it, gouging his left eye out.

"S...Siddhartha...?!" Y/N started, shuddering in distress at her lover's injury. He protected her, while he got his eye drilled into mush. "Don't worry about me, worry about that monster!" Buddha transformed his weapon into the sword away, engaging in an exchange of slashes that barely left a scar on the demon's neck. Buddha had to make adjustments to his attacks, because of his blindspot. fighting with one eye only as he was gradually being whittled down.

"Judgement." Papiyas smirked, impaling Buddha's foot, urging him to leap back once again. Y/N couldn't believe there were idiot Gods out there, begging for Buddha's death - Idiots. The Demon King pointed out Zerofuku was no more - He ate him - Shocking both Buddha and Y/N. What a monster, they thought, and the Enlightened one was feeling even more angered, enough to curse at him. "I've made up my mind. I'm gonna KILL YOU!" Y/N, nor anyone else, ever saw Buddha's wrath. Hopefully, it will serve him and humanity well. His staff transformed into the Hatred Emotion which created a weapon he's never seen before, the Warscythe of Salakaya, which had a menacing head of a roaring lion on it. "Preposterous." Papiyas spat. "For a piece of trash such as you, to defy a supreme being like me... I will waste no time passing judgement! And nothing could be more pleasant than that!" his laugh roared through the whole arena. "Stick that judgement up your ass, you sick fuck!" the audience gasped with the curse of the Goddess as Buddha attacked first with his blade, before unleashing an infernal fire towards the demon.

Blood spilled to the ground, though Buddha was the most confused of all. He was the one who initiated the attack, and it was his blade that cut away at Papiyas' arm. It was him who was supposed to get impaled by the enemy's weapon - So why the hell was Y/N standing before him like a meat shield, while he was unscathed?! "Y/N...?" his single remaining eye was wide with shock, staring at the blood splattering to the ground, and the soft tremble of her body. "The flower protected you." Y/N smiled weakly. "That is my happiness in life. Caring for those I hold dear to my heart." she giggled softly. "How pathetic. Any last words?" Papiyas grunted menacingly. "The whole world shall freeze over before I allow a pathetic little shit like you hurt my children. You, and all the Gods that oppose us - All who wish for mankind's erasure - I will fucking burn you all to death until there's nothing left of you to commemorate your wretched existence." Y/N smirked, grabbing Papiyas' arm and forcing herself through the weapon, sticking her own blade into his shoulder. That pissed the demon enough to kick her into the God behind her, toppling them to the ground. "Never do that again!" Buddha briefly scolded her. "Sorry, love, but I will do that, for as many times as my body keeps holding me. I am not strong, but I am resilient. It is you who can kill him, not me. If you are alive, we can win this. Together." Buddha got up, glaring angrily at the demon. "You have twice more, Siddhartha. That is my limit. After that, you're on your own. Use my power wisely." Buddha understood the implication well enough without any explanation - If he gets careless again, Y/N will die, protecting him. Similar to the story of the Moon Rabbit, so is she; Whilst the monkey, the fox and the bird gathered fruit, mean and nuts for the traveler to eat, the rabbit, knowing it could only gather some grass, threw itself into the fire for the man to eat him. Moved by the selflessness of the rabbit, the traveler, who was actually Sakra himself, made it so that the fire did not burn the rabbit, and instead, created the moon in its liking, and the fumes that would have burnt it, the fog surrounding it.

Still, Siddhartha did NOT want to see Y/N actually killing herself like that; Though an admirable and selfless act, he did not want to mourn her, the way he did Jataka long ago. He had to win. He MUST win.

"You're weak. Way weaker than Zero." Buddha taunted the Demon King into attacking him, and he parried all of his hits for as long as he could, before getting kicked away again. His continuing of the mocking caused the Demon King such rage, that he managed to find the perfect opening through his attack, impaling him again - Only, it wasn't him, but Y/N, much to Buddha's dismay. "Damn it, Y/N! Damn it, damn it, damn it!" he wanted to destroy the last flower in his hair, but he didn't have the strength. "One last chance, Siddhartha. Don't waste it." Y/N felt so weak as she got thrown away to the other side of the arena, rolling to the ground like a used ragdoll. "Y/N!" she heard her lover called out, afraid for her life - But as long as the flower of life was pulsating energy within him, he was reassured she was still alive and continuing to actively heal him.

Buddha continued his plan of mocking the enemy, causing him uncharacteristic fright, to the point that he tore off his arm to create a mighty weapon.

Buddha attacked again, though surprisingly, the blade of his Scythe got cut off and shattered to the ground. "Seriously...?!" he gasped, not having expected his Divine Treasure to break, of all things. He tried to defend with his staff, but that, too, broke, sending him away. He was sent to the ground, crashing down with such force that he couldn't move. "SIDDHARTHA!" Y/N cried, crawling to his side and holding him in her arms. She tried desperately to heal him, but he was unconscious, thus nothing she could do. As Papiyas was menacingly approaching, Y/N used her weapon to hoist herself up, creating a shield to protect the two until he woke up.

Thankfully, Buddha achieved enlightenment once again, and he got up, holding Zerofuku's old weapon. The crown holding his hair together shattered, and his gorgeous hair was shown for all to see. "Thank you, Y/N, Zero. Let's fight together, yes?" Y/N smiled sweetly, seeing him confident once again. "Yeah. Let's." despite her bloodloss, Y/N smiled, preparing her weapon. "Samavadhana Volundr!" Buddha and Zero together created a Divine Weapon that only Buddha could attaint through sublime enlightenment. A gorgeous and strong weapon, containing the strength and feelings of all the Gods of Fortune.

Ready to fight, Buddha kept up perfectly with the Demon King, parrying all of his attacks as strong as never before - And he was grinning, confident and self assured, even managing to inflict massive damage, at the cost of some minor injuries on himself. Still, he had to finish things fast, before either he or Y/N perish. He managed to slash away perfectly at his chest one again, though it wasn't as deep as he'd have liked. The climax was approaching fast. Y/N stepped by his side, holding his hand to transfer the last bit of energy into him, so he could keep going - At this rate, he'd only get more injuries, so at least he must keep his vitality and strength, for as long as it lasts. The one sided exchange of life that only Y/N could gift to another.

No matter how Papiyas continued to attack, Buddha was so fast and accurate that no more hit grazed him. The last ultimate attack of the Demon King - All thought landed, but instead, it was a clone, crumbling in an array of petals. Y/N grinned impishly, pointing behind him, as Buddha was ready to kill the foe.

Just as he turned, the last thing Papiyas saw was Buddha's Godly form, perfect beyond boundaries existent to Godhood, and the sword of light, love and compassion shined bright through the dark arena, slicing down the Demon King in two or three. different parts. It didn't matter that Papiyas tried to attack again, for Y/N slapped his hand away, watching as Niflheim was crumbling him to dust.

Somewhere in the sky, the light of heaven showed the happy soul of Zerofuku and the other Seven Gods of Fortune, ascending to Nirvana - Together, in friendship. Buddha couldn't contain his tears of glee, as he brought Y/N into his side, holding the sword dearly into his grasp. Everyone was chanting Buddha's name as he reveled in his win. The sword disappeared, but a bird that loved Zero sat on it, weeping for the loss of its benefactor.

Barely able to stand up, Buddha used all of his strength to drag Y/N out of the arena - Somehow, he was rather sure she was in a far worse shape than he was, having taken two direct hits like that. Not only that, but the refreshing feeling of the gentle caress that Y/N's energy felt, healing him, was keeping him very much alive and giddy. "You were so cool, Y/N. I didn't know you could do all that." Y/N smiled enigmatically. "They say true strength can be found when protecting that which is dearest to you. The truth is, Siddhartha, that I love you more than anything else is this world. You make me the happiest I've ever been." "Ha! Hear you, all sappy and sweet! Y'know you're gonna make me melt!" he cackled, pulling her into a gentle kiss, afraid of causing her more pain. "Let's get all better and continue rooting for humanity, yes? We've done all we could. The rest is their burden to bear - And I think they've done a pretty damn good job so far, don't you think?" "Hella." when she lost strength in her legs, Buddha immediately reacted, picking her up and cradling her in his arms like a princess. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you did that intentionally." he teased her, kissing her forehead. "If most of my blood was inside of me, and not out in the arena, it would have been intentional." she smirked back at him just as comically.

After getting the much required medical care, they continued watching the matches from the comfort of their chamber, laying on the comfortable, fluffy bed, cuddled in each other's arms. Y/N had tied his hair up again, and instead of his golden crown, she replaced it with one made of flowers. He, in return, caressed her hair until she relaxed completely, singing softly the Heart Sutra for her, for as long as it took for her to achieve a much needed peace.

All things are empty: Nothing is born, nothing dies, Nothing is pure, nothing is stained, Nothing increases and nothing decreases. So, in emptiness, there is no body, No feeling, no thought, No will, no consciousness.

There are no eyes, no ears, No nose, no tongue, No body, no mind. There is no seeing, no hearing, No smelling, no tasting, No touching, no imagining. There is nothing seen, nor heard, Nor smelled, nor tasted, Nor touched, nor imagined.

[cannellee]

Speaking of yandere omegaverse, may I make a request for yandere alpha!baji? Istg I absolutely need that man, literally making me feral and FOR WHAT?

TOKYO REVENGERS YANDERE OMEGAVERSE ★

୨୧ yandere!alpha! Baji x omega! Reader

— yandere omegaverse headcanons

you're absolutely right anon & i live for soft baji, even as a yandere he is a softie in my eyes>:(

my masterlist : ☆

YANDERE!ALPHA!BAJI

alpha baji is a complete menace to anyone foreign to the both of you.

he doesn't let you out of his sight and he'd like it best if you could stay still somewhere he can watch over you.

anyone who is allowed to go near you has passed baji's approval, if not, expect a few limbs torn apart. they just had to listen.

he doesn't joke around when it comes to your protection, and you should act right if you don't want to meet one of his punishments.

considering his aggressiveness when he interacts with others, you would expect something similar for you. but he's actually a big sweetheart, although he won't actively show it. but you can be sure to never receive any physical punishment from him.

you're his beloved omega, fragile and kind, his role is to protect you obviously, he wouldn't go against his own instincts & inflict you pain. he would rather die.

not a big surprise but you can't go anywhere without his scent on you. his pheromones are so strong it drives off any curious alphas.

baji is patient but he needs his bite on your neck, it's an alpha thing. he can't consider you his if you're not even claimed by him in that way. that's why he's sinking his teeth into your skin the first day of your relationship. no wasted time with baji!

he knows you're the one so he doesn't need any more time to think and wonder if that's the right move. he knows it is.

baji didn't fall for you instantly unlike most yandere. he helped you out during a delicate situation and ended up walking you home at night for safety reasons. he got curious about you, your soft speech, sweet gestures along with your smell he would spray himself with if it was a perfume.

all of this beckoned him to follow you home when he came across you a few days after first meeting you. he remembered how a group of alphas cornered you into a dark alley and this new feeling ordered him to make sure you got home safe tonight as well.

he didn't lose time making a move and befriending you before courting you for real.

scented plushies, necklaces with a small piece of clothing that smells just like him inside a locket, things that remind him of you like flowers or sweet food like cupcakes and fruits... he's one to make you wear his sweaters that he wore all day later in the relationship, he desperately needs his scent on you.

baji was always so stoic and seemed so sure of himself you couldn't help but let this sensation of pure peace and safety take over you.

whereas, he saw you as something delicate who needed to be protected and looked after. he was so used to hang out with other alphas, fighting alongside them and giving harsh slaps as hellos. he couldn't comprehend how omegas were so weak compared to him. your eyes were so pure, an innocence in your scent told him you only ever acted kindly and in consideration of others. he was fascinated and enamored.

he also is really lucid with your feelings, he's not delusional and acting like you're so in tune with how he's feeling. he's aware that while he has a sense of purpose when you're by his side, it isn't reciprocated by you.

it's not that he doesn't care about your feelings, it's more like a "she needs more time". he loves you a lot, he really does, that's why he tries as much as possible to not come off as overbearing and overwhelming.

he'll scent you slowly and softly, making sure you associate his touch with something positive to teach you to long for his affection.

as I said he's patient, and smart, he won't rush things in fear of messing up everything. one wrong move, a slight negative change in his voice while he talks to you, a harsh gesture that could be misinterpreted, and all that trust he so carefully built up will collapse because of his behaviour.

he wouldn't let that happen, so of course he's always being extra cautious and adopts a very welcoming and reassuring approach.

you have no reason to feel threaten, that's why when he eventually starts locking you up inside his house : you don't really say a thing, you've grown too dependent on him.

you find yourself lucky to have an alpha such as baji, who would tear anybody's throat just for you but gently cradles you in his arms when he's in your nest.

he loves it when you asks for his permission to do anything you think he might disapprove. knowing your place saves him the trouble of lecturing you and ruining the mood.

he'll make you wear a collar if you seem too adamant about listening to him. on some occasions when he's particularly tired or irritated, he might scare you into obeying him, but just so you know he'll never actually be true to his threats.

when you're in heat, you can be 100% sure he'll be at your side. your heats trigger his rut so expect double trouble : while he has some self control around you and acts as carefully as he can, the fog in his brain when his mind is solely focused on breeding you can make him quite demanding.

your house will reek alpha pheromones for a few days, other people literally running away once they as much as catch a sniff from under your door. the smell is so strong it's impossible not to notice it if you pass in front of it.

he gets extra protective when you're in heat, so you'll never be leaving the nest and you'll obey to whatever he says, because he's your alpha and he knows better, especially when you're this vulnerable and incapable of taking care of yourself.

forces you to lay still under him while he pounds into you with full force. he covers you with musky pheromones and others displays of dominance that you need to accept. and you do, the heat making you way more docile than usual.

he's biting and licking your neck the whole time, leaving it completely swollen and red from all the marking at the end of his rut. he doesn't feel bad about it afterwards, it's only natural as your alpha that he marks what's his.

as sweet as he is, he's a very controlling alpha. everything you do needs his approval. there's this power imbalance between you where baji clearly has the upper hand, he's the one who decides and you're the one who follows.

you have a tracker on your phone (if he even lets you have a phone), he chained you the first weeks after locking you up not wanting to see you escape and sometimes remind you of his clear dominance by making you feel dumb & dehumanizing you. he wants you to understand that you need baji as much as he needs you. you're an omega and having an alpha such as baji by your side is an accomplishment in itself. that's how you're supposed to feel. and you will in a few months, because baji will make sure you become unable to function properly without him.

he'll feel so satisfied when you finally recognize him as your alpha. he wants to reward you for being so good to him!

the rare times you both go out, you're always surprised how everybody seems to cower away from the both of you. you know baji looks and is threatening, you know what he's capable of and what reputation he has, but still, it sometimes feels a bit weird. you're not dumb enough to not notice the subtle glares and literal warnings in his scent and behaviour. nobody wants to be in his way.

and when you've been good and baji thought it was a good idea to allow you a small walk outside, you both came across the 1st division.

chifuyu was there with no more than 10 guys, all alphas. while baji never really let you out scared you'll get hurt, he trusted chifuyu enough to let him meet you, though rarely. your alpha's friend greeted you warmly, keeping a distance with you knowing the possessive nature of baji and having already witnessed first hand his anger when a stranger touched his omega.

he knew baji valued him as a close friend, but you would always come first and chifuyu wasn't willing to compromise both his friendship and his life.

while baji and chifuyu were happily chatting, baji always kept you close by with a hand on you waist or holding yours. you didn't say a thing and just waited for him to finish talking like the obedient mate you knew he liked.

what you hadn't expected is for an overjoyed recruit to clumsily push you aside to have a chance to talk to baji. he looked like a weird fanatic and addressed himself to baji with bright wide eyes and pure adoration.

you didn't mean to fall down, it was a slight push and you would have landed right back on your feet if you hadn't walked into a puddle of water. slippery feet and surprise made you touch the ground in a second while baji didn't even have time to comprehend what happened.

the young alpha didn't even look back at you and acted like nothing happened, you weren't sure if he actually even saw you fall. either way, the issue was be the same.

chifuyu instantly stopped talking and sent worried looks to baji, and the other members knew better than to stay close while sensing what was about to unfold. they all knew baji, and one of the most important unspoken rule was to treat you with respect while keeping a good distance. not having been informed, this guy was dead meat, and you understood it as soon as baji helped you up.

your hands were wet and bruised, he picked you up quickly and very carefully. he ordered you to go sit on the bench a few meters away to wait for him while he 'has a word with him'.

cut short in his words, the young alpha was thrown to the ground and you turned your head to the other side not wanting to see anything else, the sound of punches being already too much for you.

he wasted no time in joining you, told you that you would go back to your house for now and could always go out another time. for now his instincts were urging him to carry you somewhere safe and far from potential danger.

you know that despite his words, you wouldn't see the light of the sun anytime soon. those type of scenarios make him more cautious than usual and he won't risk anything like that to happen again.

he'll bring you snacks, ice creams and other stuff from outside in hope of making you stop pouting. he can't let you go out, you should understand why he does that.

just let him take care of you the way any omega needs and would absolutely crave. baji only want one thing and it's to keep you safe and sound, there's nowhere where you're more protected than by his side.

[backtothefanfiction]

Make Me Forget | tasm!Peter Imagine

Summary: After Harry nearly strangled you, things can never be the same again. (A follow on from Crushed)

Warnings: 18+ Only, smut, cheating, guilt, violent boyfriend, trauma, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N- I never planned on making a follow up to crushed but this just came into my head and I needed to get it out. This is a quick one before bed, but smutty because I’m trying to get my head back into the smutty game to complete some of my other WIPs. Also I haven’t written for Peter in a while and thought he deserved some love.

You: Hey…

You: Can we talk?

You: Please?

You: ….

You: Peter?

You: Please Peter, don’t ignore me.

You: ….

You: Please….

You: I need you.

It had been nearly two weeks now since the night Harry almost killed you. The night that Peter saved your life. The night you kissed him and asked you to stay. When you had woken the next morning, he had already gone and he’d clearly been avoiding you ever since.

You tried to push the whole thing to the back of your mind. Tried to play along with Harry and pretend nothing had ever happened. But ever since that night, it was like something had died inside you.

You didn’t want to look at Harry in a different light, but you couldn’t help it. Although you both tried the bruises around your neck, the one clear reminder of Harry’s little episode remained; and although you covered them with a scarf until they disappeared, you still felt them as if they were burned on your skin. Every time you breathed, it was like the scarf that covered them, grew tight and brought you back to that moment every time.

All you wanted to do was talk to someone about it. As Peter was the only other person who knew, you wanted to talk to him about it, but you hadn’t seen or heard a single word from him since that night. You dared not ask Harry about Peter either, for fear it would trigger something. So you just sat and let it eat you from the inside out alone.

In all truth, the moment it had happened you knew you wanted to leave Harry, but every time you tried to do it, you couldn’t, guilt eating at your insides like a parasite. Guilt for knowing it wasn’t truly Harry’s fault. Guilt for knowing his illness would kill him before long and not being able to make him go through it alone. Guilt for kissing Peter, Harry’s best friend…. and of course for wanting to do it again.

You: Peter, please talk to me!

It was no use. No matter how many times you tried, he just seemed to ignore any attempt you made to contact him.

2 weeks turned into 4. The bruises faded completely. Harry was trying to do everything he could to make it up to you. You knew Peter had been around because Harry began to bring him up in conversation again; but it was clear he was making sure to see Harry only when you weren’t around.

At 6 weeks, things began to turn again. Although he never laid a finger on you, Harry became spiteful again. He would rant about work. Rant about random people he’d run into on the street. When he grew extra heated you would see a flash of green in his veins at his neck or he’d smash a glass and it would take you straight back to that night. But he’d always see you flinch. Always realise when he’d gone too far… until one night, he didn’t.

“WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?” Harry screamed, the highball glass in his hand collided with the marble floors and shattered into a million pieces. “I MEAN I-“ he said storming towards you, his finger prodding at his chest, “I!” He reiterated louder, “PAY FOR HIS FUCKING SALERY!”

You shrank back against the wall as he stomped passed you, crossing to the bar in the living room to fix himself another drink. You knew it was a bad idea to let him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him, worried it would only anger him more.

“The ONLY reason he’s still even on the board is because he was my father’s best friend.” He seemed to laugh at that. “As if you could imagine anything so ridiculous as my father having a best friend. SOME BEST FRIEND, LETTING HIM DYE ALONE!” He knocked back the last of his drink, before that glass collided with the wall. Suddenly it became all too clear this wasn’t about the guy on the board at all- but Peter.

“Harry-“ you said tentatively as you stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly had happened, but the closer you got, the clearer the green in his veins showed. When his eyes locked on yours, you knew he was gone.

“DON’T HARRY ME, SWEETNESS! WE BOTH KNOW THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” He spat as he crossed the room towards you. “You in your little SLUT dresses! Fluttering your WHORE LASHES all over the place.”

It was like walking into a lions den wearing the famous Lady GaGa meat dress, you knew you’d fucked up, quickly trying to step back and run away before you got eaten, but it was no use as he charged at you. “Harry- stop- please!” You cried, “I don’t know what you’re taking about. I haven’t seen Peter in weeks. HARRY! PLEASE LISTEN TO ME!”

You raced around the room, attempting to place large pieces of furniture between you. To give yourself enough space to get out. At the memory of what happened before, your throat grew tight. Words began to fail you. You knew you were on your own this time. You had to get out. You needed to distract him. You used the only thing you could think of that Harry hated more than anything else lately- Spider-Man.

You made your eyes dart towards the window behind him and back again. Then you did it a second time, catching his focus before you said, “Hey, is that Spider-Man?”

“SPIDER-MAN!” Harry fumed, his anger dialling up a notch, but with his new hatred peaked, he turned his back on you to face the window. As he stalked towards the rooftop doors, ready to fling them open in search of the masked vigilante, ready to curse him out, you ran. He barely had time to realise what you had done and come back and curse you out for it, when you were already in the elevator and on your way back down to the lobby.

🕷️ 🕷️ 🕸️🕷️🕷️

When Peter got back to his apartment, the last thing he was expecting was to find you, curled up in a ball on his doorstep waiting for him.

“Y/N?” He asked confused. When you looked up at him, he immediately knew something was really wrong. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying. He immediately knew it was because of Harry. Peter frowned, remembering what had happened last time, sudden fear coursed through him. Fear… and guilt. He should have never ignored you. Never left you alone. No matter how hard it hurt to see you with him. “What did he do?” He almost snarled, but knew it was the wrong move as he saw the panic and fear in your eyes.

He quickly softened and you picked yourself up off the floor so he could get to the door to open it for you both. Neither of you said anything more until you were inside. The silence as you both made your way through the tiny apartment, Peter dumping the bag of groceries that had been in his hand on the small kitchen side, gave you time to compose yourself, to wipe at your face and the last traces of tears on your cheeks, as you took in the boxy studio apartment. You sat yourself down on the end of his bed.

“Do you want anything?” He asked as he quickly put away his groceries; a carton of milk, a box of sugary cereal, eggs and three frozen pizzas- all pepperoni. “A glass of water or-“

“I want you to make me forget.” Your small voice said as you looked down at your hands.

His hand hesitated a moment, half frozen on its way to get a cup out of the cupboard. You mustered up some confidence and stood again, moving across the floor towards him. He slowly lowered his hand from the cupboard as your hands reached for him. Your fingers clawed at his shirt with need as you came to a stop and stared up into his soft brown eyes. The only eyes you had thought of for the last 6 weeks. The ones that had got you through. You then lowered your eyes to his lips. “Please, make me forget.” You spoke to them, your eyes heavy, your need for him now you were stood before him once more growing too great.

“Y/N, I can’t. You know- Harry- I”

“It’s over. Me and Harry are done. I’m not going back- I can’t- just… please.” You said, your eyes meeting his once more, softly pleading with him. He hesitated as he stared at you, clearly weighing up the right thing to do in his head. “Please, Pete,” you whispered as your hands ran back up his sides, your eyes falling back to his lips, “please just make me forget.”

You reached up on tiptoes to capture his lips in yours. When his hands gripped hold of your arms you stopped, moving your head away. Sure he was about to push you away. You watched closely as he fought to push away, to do the right thing- but he just pulled you in closer.

His mouth was on yours hungrily as you both leaned into the kiss, your arms flying around his neck, his arms twisting around your back as he lifted you off the floor, walking you both towards the bed. As he tried to place you back down on it, you refused to let go of him, pulling him down on top of you, your tongue reaching to lick into his mouth. He tasted of coffee and sugar, far from the bitterness and whiskey Harry tasted off.

His fingers were gentle as he pushed your hair back away from your face, his fingers tangling with it behind your ears, the safety and security of his touch making you soften beneath him. The realisation made you well up and when Peter wiped his thumb across your cheek and it came away wet, he quickly moved back.

“You’re crying.” He said.

“I know.” You replied as you reach to pull him back to you.

“Wait-“ he said.

“It’s okay. You replied, they’re happy tears.” You said softly, but he didn’t quite believe you.

“Pete, please, you just-“ you swallowed away your tears, willing him to believe you, “you make me feel safe.”

“And that made you cry?” You didn’t say anything, but he could see the truth in your eyes- and it made him soften. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, as he wiped away at the trail your last tear had left behind. “I’m sorry he did this to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there-“

“You’re here now Pete,” you reassured him, “please, Peter, I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I don’t want to think about him. I just want you,” you said, breathing the last words into him. “Please… make me forget.”

He paused for a moment, letting you know with his eyes that he understood, a silent promise that he would. He had already let you down once- had been letting you down these past 6 weeks. He wouldn’t let you down again.

When he leaned back down to capture your lips with his again, they were softer, his kisses slower, more gentle, with more purpose. Lazily pulling every little tingle, relaxing every tight pent up muscle from you, one kiss at a time. He moved from your lips, to your jaw, down your neck, your fingers curling into the strands of hair on the back of his head. He suckled and licked his way all the way down the exposed skin on your chest. When he reached the neckline of your top he stopped, moving away and shuffling himself back, his fingers reaching for the fastening of your trousers.

He paused only for a second to double check this was truly what you wanted and when you silently nodded your head at him, too relaxed, too dreamy and drunk on him, he finally pulled down your trousers and your underwear, exposing your lower half to him.

When he knelt down and parted your legs, you barely had time to acknowledge the cold air against your sex as he covered it with his warm tongue, slowly licking and kissing his way between your folds. He relished every sigh and moan that escaped your mouth. You wanted him to make you forget, but he took his time, savouring every second so he would always remember.

When he sucked your clit between his lips, your back arched off of his bed, body squirming with over stimulation, breath hitching and squeaking in your throat. He hoped to all gods it was healed enough and that you’d let him slide his cock down it later.

When he began to work two of his fingers into your now dripping cunt, curling them, begging for you to give him all you had, you sighed his name and he swore he almost came in his pants.

He seemed to drag out your pleasure for nearly an hour, building you up, letting you cool back down again until you were a pleading puddle, putty in his hands with nothing on your mind other than him.

When you whined, “Peter, please,” after your third lazy orgasm, he finally obliged, climbing back up on top of you, safe in the knowledge that the only thing you will ever have on your mind now, for the rest of time, will be this moment and him.

[meownotgood]

thinking about aki who's a bit of a pervert.

you find yourself over at aki's place to drink an awful lot these days. he's been inviting you, and it's not like you have any reason to say no. work has been stressful, you could use the break. it's more fun to drink with him anyways, with just him. aki is kind and thoughtful, he's reserved and he isn't like all the other guys in your department that turn into idiots the moment they've had a drop of alcohol.

no, aki is sweet. gentlemanly, you'd say. innocent, even. he told you one time that he's never had a girlfriend before.

aki's your best friend, the kind of guy someone might bring home to their parents — the only guy you have absolutely no problem getting shitfaced around because you know he'd stop at nothing to take care of you.

and once you've had a bit too much to drink (because you always seem to) aki will do as he always does: insist you stay the night instead of trying to go home. it'd be dangerous for you to try and travel when you're this inebriated. he's looking out for you, that's all.

although, tonight, one thing is different from before. usually, he'd give you his guest room to have all to yourself. but now that denji and power have moved in, aki supposes there's no other option than to have you sleep with him.

he's not going to allow you to sleep on the living room floor, that's just rude. you're a guest. his closest friend. it's getting cold these days, you'd be freezing if you had to do that. besides, you trust aki more than anyone, so you have no problem sleeping in his bed next to him, do you?

of course not.

aki's just being polite, like he always is, and you're none the wiser. he's polite when he offers to toss your clothes in the laundry and give you his to sleep in. he wants you to be comfortable, that's certainly true, but it definitely isn't also because he was hoping for a chance to touch your stockings and your bra. he commits the feeling of the fabric to memory, the way your stockings stretch when he pulls at them — they stretch the same way around your thighs, too. he drags his fingers across the intricate lace of your bra — lace? he didn't think you were the type to like something like that, but it makes sense. it'd look better if it was on you.

he compares the size of his hand to the size of your bra and tries not to forget that either before tossing everything in the wash. maybe he'll get lucky, and you'll forget to grab your clothes before rushing home.

he scoops you up and carries you to bed when you're too exhausted and drunk to move. he's trying not to think anything dirty as he sets you down in the center of his bed and props himself up over you; he's breathing hard, starting to sweat, the sight of you under him is the prettiest thing he's ever seen, but his breath gets caught in his lungs when you wrap your arms around him and pull his body close to yours with a drunken giggle. aki leans his head into your shoulder, and he doesn't attempt to separate the two of you.

yeah, and it's really only out of politeness that aki's offered to have you sleep in his bed. it's not because he grows warm to the ends of his ears at just the thought of someone, of you sleeping beside him. nobody's ever slept with him like this before. he can hear your breathing, he can feel it on his neck. he shifts away from you a little and he can see the bare skin of your collarbones peeking out when his shirt that's way too big for you starts slipping down your figure. god.

he won't sleep tonight, he's already sure of it. but how could he? between this and the way you were acting earlier, how is he supposed to get any sleep?

you're such a sweetheart when you're drunk, more than you are usually, you'll sway left and right and end up clinging onto aki's arm to keep yourself steady. you'll coo his name so sweetly into his ear, you'll thank him for inviting you and mumble something about how much you appreciate him, how good of a friend he is.

you're welcome, aki tells you with a completely level tone, despite the fact his heart is fucking hammering in his chest so hard it hurts because you've really just thanked him, you're happy because of him, you really are. he wants to make you even happier, he wants you to sing his praises more. he wants to hear your soft voice pant his name over and over again.

he's terrible, really. maybe it's because of his lack of intimacy. maybe the frustration of always being alone. maybe it's his fault to begin with for falling so head over heels for you. aki has no idea.

he can't help but feel guilty every time he invites you over, knowing it's because he wants to be close to you and have you all to himself. he hates how he can never seem to stop ogling you, hates how he can't even get a moment of sleep right now because you're hugging him, you're fast asleep with your arms around him and he can't think, he's so hard his poor cock is throbbing.

aki shifts off of you, tearing your arms away from him and curling up at your side. he mutters a quiet I'm sorry when you grumble with displeasure in your sleep, he tugs the blanket around you and lifts your head to tuck his pillow underneath.

turning over, he forces his eyes to close. aki ignores the ache in his gut, he resists the urge to slip his hand down his pants while you're lying right beside him. he breathes in shuddery gasps, says a silent prayer to himself that you'll stay for at least a few more hours tomorrow.

it'll be fine. he'll forget about all of this until next time. when you're gone.

because if you've slept with him, even after you've left, his sheets and his blankets will smell like you. the clothes you wore, too. then, when he's lying in bed at night, all alone, with the shirt you were wearing pressed up to his nose, and maybe the stockings you wore the day before in his fist and around his dick (if you managed to forget them), it'll be so much easier to imagine whatever the hell he wants about you. and you'll have no idea.